Valour

‘Thank you for coming,’ Eremon said. His eyes were sunk to dark hollows. He held out a hand to Edana and she stepped forwards and took it.

 

‘You must leave, tonight,’ Eremon said. ‘I have sent messengers ahead. A ship will be waiting for you on the coast. Baird will take you.’

 

‘What?’ Edana said.

 

‘I shall muster my warband on the morrow and order them to give Rhin battle,’ Eremon said. ‘The sensible choice is to stay behind these walls until they try and climb them, but I think my people would have opened the gates to Rhin before then. We are likely to lose,’ Eremon said. ‘We have no answer to their wall of shields.’

 

‘We will stay and fight,’ Edana said.

 

‘No. I am not asking you to leave, I am telling you, as one of my last acts as King of Domhain.’ He patted her hand. ‘You are young, but with a wise head on your shoulders, Edana. You are the best hope for all those who would stand against Rhin. You must not throw your life away.’

 

‘But where will I go?’

 

‘My ship will take you to wherever you wish to go. My advice would be to sail back to Ardan, to the south-west and the swamps of Dun Crin. I have had word that a resistance to Rhin grows there even now. Go back to your people, and lead them.’

 

A frown wrinkled Edana’s brow as she considered his words.

 

‘I will do as you say,’ she said. She leaned forward and kissed Eremon’s cheek. ‘I thank you for all that you have done for me. You may yet win the day. Your warriors are brave, and Rath is no fool.’

 

‘If Rhin’s host fought like honourable men we would have won already,’ Baird muttered.

 

‘Do not think me so selflessly kind,’ Eremon said. ‘I have one thing to ask you, in return for safe passage on my ship. Take our son, Lorcan.’ His eyes flickered to Roisin. ‘I know that you have agreed to be handbound to him, but if Domhain falls and I die then it is your choice whether you honour that agreement or not. Either way, take him to safety with you.’ He smiled at her then. ‘And for myself, I hope that you and Lorcan do marry. You’ve good hips on you – there’ll be plenty of fine children, I’m sure.’

 

This man would have been good drinking company, thought Camlin.

 

‘I’ll go, as you ask,’ Edana said, blushing. ‘But why do you not come as well? We could all leave, now.’

 

Camlin watched them all carefully, saw the redness around Roisin’s eyes, the way Eremon’s gaze dropped to the floor.

 

They have already discussed this, Camlin thought. Disagreed about this.

 

‘I cannot run,’ Eremon said. ‘My people may be in the process of choosing another over me, but they have not done so yet. I cannot just abandon them.’

 

‘But if you stay and give battle, many will die. If you run, you will be saving lives,’ Edana said. ‘Bring your loyal shieldmen, let them live to fight another day.’

 

‘I cannot slink away like a kicked hound,’ Eremon snapped. ‘I will not do that.’

 

This honour thing, Camlin thought. It has its downside. I’d not think twice about running away. He looked at Edana. Or maybe I would.

 

A silence settled on the room. Maeve stepped forward with a jug and refilled Eremon’s cup. Camlin saw her hand was shaking. She spilt some ale, then dropped the jug. It smashed on the stone floor, shards exploding.

 

For an instant all eyes were on the jug. Then Camlin saw Maeve move, a glint of metal in her hand. She lunged forwards and drove a knife into Eremon’s throat, blood gushing in a steady pulse.

 

Everyone moved at once: Maeve diving across Eremon’s kicking legs towards Edana; Rath, Baird and Halion surging towards Maeve; Roisin rising from her chair.

 

Edana lifted her arms, an instinctive reaction, but Maeve was not aiming at her. They collided but Maeve was rushing with her knife at Roisin, scoring a gash across her ribs. Then Rath had Maeve about the waist, was hauling her away. The knife clattered to the ground as he twisted her wrist.

 

Eremon was white, his skin almost translucent. Life flickered in his eyes and then vanished. Roisin screamed and fell across his body, hugging him and keening. Eremon’s head flopped.

 

‘Why?’ Rath said, clutching Maeve tight.

 

‘Because he would let so many die. Because he was old and close to death, anyway. Because I hate Roisin and her spawn. Because I want Conall to be king.’ She glared at him unflinchingly.

 

Rath drew his own knife and plunged it into her chest, then embraced her as her life fluttered away. He lowered her gently to the ground. Tears filled his eyes as he turned back to them.

 

Roisin stood slowly and stepped away from Eremon, blood staining her gown.

 

‘I think this changes things,’ she said.

 

‘This way,’ Baird said, leading his horse through a hole in the stable wall that hadn’t been there short moments ago.

 

Those giants were a mistrustful lot, Camlin thought, remembering the tunnels beneath Dun Carreg, always with their bolt holes.

 

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