Noise from the feast-hall leaked out into the courtyard, some kind of commotion – men shouting, a deep growling. Storm?
Then she was dashing through the open doors, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the gloom. Everything was chaos in here, tables and chairs overturned, timbers blackened and charred with fire, clouds of smoke still clinging to the rafters where the flames had only recently been doused. There were many people gathered in here. She saw Owain talking with Nathair, a cluster of the black-clothed warriors that had stormed the gates gathered about him. Evnis was amongst them, and Conall. Anger flashed in her gut and her hand instinctively reached for her knife-belt. She scowled as she remembered she’d used all the blades last night on the wall.
Then her eyes were drawn back to the commotion that had first caught her attention. A group of warriors were circling something, a snapping, snarling something.
‘Just kill it,’ she heard one of the warriors say and saw a flash of sharp white teeth, a flat muzzle, brindle fur.
‘Buddai,’ she whispered and ran forwards, elbowing through the line of warriors.
They were grouped in a half-circle about Buddai, the great hound standing with his head lowered, teeth bared.
Cywen stumbled to a halt and Buddai’s big head swung round to face her, teeth snapping. Then, suddenly, he knew her. He whined, his tail wagging hesitantly at seeing someone familiar in this place of death, someone that was pack. She threw herself upon him, arms wrapped about his neck, and buried her face in his fur. She stayed like that long moments, tears spilling into Buddai’s fur. In time she leaned back, got a lick on the face and looked down.
‘That’s why you’re here,’ she mumbled. Her da lay sprawled on the ground, eyes glassy, flat, wounds all over his body, blood crusting black. With a deep sob she knelt beside Thannon’s corpse and gently brushed her fingertips across his cheek. Are they all slain, then? She laid her head upon Thannon’s chest. Buddai snuggled in close to her and nudged Thannon’s hand with his muzzle. It flopped on the ground.
‘Girl,’ a voice said and a spear butt dug into her back.
‘What?’
‘You need to move,’ the man said, an older warrior, silver streaks in his red beard.
‘No,’ she said, squeezing her da tighter.
‘We have to clear the hall, lass, an’ that hound won’t let us near him.’ He prodded Thannon’s boot with his spear butt. Buddai growled. ‘If you can get that hound to go with you all the better, otherwise we’ve no choice but t’kill it.’
Kill Buddai. No more death.
‘I . . . yes,’ Cywen said, wiping her eyes and nose. She knelt before Buddai, running her hands over him. Blood crusted the fur on his front shoulder and he whined when she probed the wound. ‘Come with me, Buds,’ she whispered, ‘else they’ll kill you too.’ He just cocked his head and stared at her with uncomprehending eyes.
Cywen stood, took a few steps away from the hound and called him. He took a hesitant step towards her, then looked back at his fallen master and whined pitifully.
‘Come on, Buds. Come.’ Cywen slapped her hand against her leg, and this time he came to her. The red-bearded warrior nodded and continued with his work.
No one was taking any notice of Cywen; she was just another blood-stained survivor of the night’s dark work. All of the warriors in the room seemed to be busy clearing the floors, tending to wounded comrades. Owain and Nathair were still deep in conversation, though Cywen saw that the King of Tenebral’s shieldman – the black-clad warrior called Sumur – was staring back at her.
‘Come on, Buddai,’ Cywen said. ‘Best be getting out of here.’ She turned towards the feast-hall doors and with a thud crashed into someone.
‘Oof,’ the man grunted. ‘Watch where you’re— You.’
Cywen stood frozen, staring at the person she had collided with. It was Rafe.
The huntsman’s son glared at her. Buddai growled and Rafe took a step backwards.
His fair hair was dank, ash stained, his eyes red veined with dark hollow rings. He had been crying. There was a gash in one leg of his breeches, just above the knee, and drying blood soaked down to his boots. A ragged bandage was tied tight above the wound.
‘Your brother did that to me,’ he said, following her gaze to his wounded leg. ‘One more thing I owe him for.’
‘Ban,’ Cywen gasped, her heart twisting at the mention of her brother. ‘He lives, then?’ She was almost too scared to speak the thought out loud.
‘Maybe, but not for long. We’ll catch him, catch all of them.’
‘All of them? Who else? My mam, Gar?’
Rafe just looked at her, then smiled slowly. ‘All on your own, little girl? Best be getting used to that.’