Camlin sat at the table in their kitchen, wrapping sinew about iron arrowheads, tying them to a bundle of arrow shafts he had cut and left in a local smokehouse to dry out. He’d already fletched them. He finished the one he was working on, placed it in a pile, then took another unfinished shaft.
He had spent the rest of his day here, after Rhin’s speech. The five of them, six if you included the bird, Fech, had hurried back to their rooms through streets thick with unrest. Conall’s unveiling had had an effect similar to a boot kicking an ants’ nest. Everywhere there seemed to be activity, people standing in groups, talking, arguing, where only the day before the streets had been deserted.
‘We should have expected it,’ Edana said. ‘Rafe told us that he lived, and that he was Rhin’s first-sword.’
‘It is a clever move,’ Marrock said. ‘It gives people a way out of starving without losing any honour. And Roisin is hated, which makes matters worse.’
‘Halion, are you well?’ Edana asked.
Halion was sitting with his head in his hands. When he looked up his cheeks were stained with tears. ‘He’s my brother. Once things seemed so simple, just the two of us against the world.’ He took a shuddering breath and sat straighter.
Camlin felt a stab of sympathy for the man. How old is he? Not yet thirty summers, I’d guess, yet he is forced to be older, more like Conall’s da than his brother. Responsibility has been the force that guides his every choice.
‘There was always something dark in Conall’s heart,’ Halion continued. ‘A bitter seed. Evnis and Rhin have cultivated it, and now I do not know who he is. Rule Domhain! He should have laughed at the thought, and refused it. Who has he become?’
‘The enemy,’ Vonn said clearly. ‘That is what he has become. He stands with the woman who plotted the fall of Brenin, of Alona, and Edana. Not just their fall, but their deaths. She would see Edana dead still. Sharing the same blood sometimes is not enough.’
They all looked at Vonn then; he rarely spoke, and never about his da, Evnis. Even though he had not used his name, they all knew it was him that Vonn was speaking of.
Fech fluttered nearer to Edana at Vonn’s words, as if his closeness would somehow protect her.
‘What will Eremon do now?’ Vonn asked.
‘I don’t know,’ Halion said. ‘If it were me, and I was sure of my people’s loyalty, I would wait longer – hope that they would resort to an attack while we are still safely behind these walls. But I don’t think that Rhin is that stupid. Geraint maybe, but not Rhin. She will be happy to wait until we’ve all died of starvation and there’s nothing left but the bones of the dead.’
‘And I do not think the loyalty of your da’s people can be guaranteed,’ Edana said.
‘No. So he must do something. And soon. Perhaps muster an attack.’
‘It would need to be something clever to beat that wall of shields,’ Marrock said, ‘otherwise it would just be warriors marching to a certain death.’
‘What’s your advice, Fech?’ Edana asked the raven. She had taken to talking to the bird more and more as if it were a human, and what was more, a wise one. Camlin wasn’t wholly comfortable with that.
‘Kill Rhin,’ the bird squawked. ‘Sever the head, the body wriggles and dies.’ He snapped his beak as if to emphasize his point.
‘Aye, good advice,’ Marrock said. ‘It’s just the how that is a problem.’
‘I am sorry,’ Halion said. ‘For bringing you here. I should have listened to you, Marrock. We should have gone to Dun Crin.’
They all looked at him in silence, none knowing what to say.
‘Do not blame yourself for this,’ Marrock said. ‘All along you’ve done what you thought was right. I cannot fault you for that. And who is to say that things would have fared any better at Dun Crin? For all we know, our heads could be on spikes by now. We live. We have one another, oaths and friendship that bind us.’ He held Halion’s gaze until the warrior nodded at him.
There was a knocking at the door, a warrior from the keep.
‘Eremon wants to see you,’ he said. ‘All of you.’
Almost silently they passed through the streets, the only movement a rat in the gutters. That surprised Camlin: there had been a distinct drop in the number of animals wandering Dun Taras’ streets – even down to dogs and rats. Disappearing into people’s bellies.
Camlin heard a sound in the distance, faint but growing. The roar of a crowd. An orange glow floated like a nimbus in the sky, highlighting buildings in the direction the noise came from, and the sudden smell of burning wood hit his nose and throat. There was a sense of tension amongst them, like a rope pulled taut, close to tearing. They picked up their pace and soon were walking into the keep. Warriors stood vigilantly beneath flickering torches. The group was eventually ushered into Eremon’s chambers.
The King and Roisin were there, along with Rath. His wounds had almost healed, though Camlin saw a stiffness in his movements. A pair of serving-girls hovered, refilling Eremon’s cup as he drained it. One of them was Maeve.