The warrior shrugged, peering at Camlin. ‘Well enough. What can we do for you?’
‘Just came to check on my horse, an’ stretch my legs. Can only do so much sitting and drinking.’
Another figure appeared at the doorway, taller than the first. ‘Can never do enough drinking,’ he said. ‘Don’t happen to have a drop, do you?’
‘No,’ Camlin said, close enough to touch them, now.
‘Pity.’ The new figure shrugged and stepped back inside.
‘All quiet, then?’ Camlin asked, glancing through the doorway after the disappearing figure. The smell of fish drifted out. A pot was warming over a fire, saddles and rugs stacked along one wall, bridles, reins, girth straps all hanging on another. There was only one man in there.
‘Aye,’ the first man said.
‘No sign of Haf an’ his lads?’
‘Haf?’
He led a few of our boys into those woods over there,’ Camlin said, pointing into the distance. ‘Someone saw a boat land out that way, thought it might be spies of Owain.’
‘I hadn’t heard,’ the warrior said, stepping forward, peering at the woods. They were just a deeper shadow in the gloom of dusk.
‘I’ll go check on my horse,’ Camlin said, stepping out of the doorway’s light.
‘There are a lot of horses out there,’ the warrior said.
‘’S all right,’ Camlin said. ‘I can see her from here – over there – big piebald mare.’ He pointed to a cluster of horses.
‘Did you see that?’ the guard said, taking a few steps into the field.
‘Where?’ Camlin said.
‘Near your horse – I thought I saw . . .’ He took another step into the field, further from the light, hand going to his sword hilt.
There was a whistling sound, a wet thud and the guard staggered. In a second Camlin was behind him, one hand across his mouth, the other stabbing into his back, the blade slipping through ribs, puncturing a lung. The man sighed and sank to the ground, Camlin lowering him.
Quickly he turned and strode back to the smokehouse, sheathing his knife. Vonn crept out of the gloom, and he heard Dath’s feet behind him.
Camlin held a finger up to Vonn, pointed at the smokehouse and then stepped through the open door.
The man inside was bent over stirring some kind of stew. Camlin’s knife took him in the gut as he turned. He struggled, gripping Camlin’s wrist, then the strength went out of him and he fell across the pot, spilling it. Flames scattered and Camlin stamped them out.
He looked up to see Vonn staring at him.
‘That wasn’t very honourable,’ Vonn said.
‘No,’ said Camlin amicably, ‘it wasn’t. He’s dead, though, an’ I’m alive. An’ you’re still breathing too, for that matter.’ He pushed past Vonn and stood in the light of the doorway, raised an arm and waved. Dath was standing beside the shadow of the dead warrior in the grass, pulling his arrow from the man’s chest. ‘You did good,’ Camlin called to him. ‘Now, both of you, help me get some saddles and tack together before Marrock arrives.’
It had taken over half the night for Camlin and Marrock to catch up with Halion and his companions.
Still, they were all alive, and everyone was mounted on a strong horse. Things could be a lot worse.
Marrock and Halion moved apart, Halion riding to the front of their small column.
‘Domhain is north-west of here,’ he said, turning in his saddle, ‘so that is the direction we will ride, and fast, to put some distance between us and our trackers. I have travelled through Cambren before, but not this far south. I know there is a good pass through the mountains to Domhain, but it is much further north, so that is where we are headed.’
Good. Now let’s just get on with it, instead of talking about it, Camlin thought, looking back over his shoulder for the signs of pursuit – a cloud of dust from horses’ hooves, the startled flight of birds, anything, but so far the land looked quiet and clean behind them.
They stopped beside a stream at highsun and Camlin dismounted, drinking deeply and splashing some water on his neck. He heard a cracking noise, looked up and jumped; only a pace away Brina’s crow was sitting on a dark granite rock, gleefully smashing a large snail to pieces. It speared the soft body within and slurped it down.
‘I hate that crow,’ a voice whispered beside him. Dath. Camlin nodded, not really wanting to say it out loud, in case the crow heard him.
‘Mount up,’ Marrock called out.
As Camlin climbed into his saddle he noticed the wolven standing perfectly still, looking behind them. Its hackles were up.
He paused, staring hard into the distance, along the path they had travelled. ‘Chief,’ he called.
Marrock rode over to him.
‘What is it?’
Camlin pointed. In the distance, almost beyond eyesight, something was moving, like a line of ants.
‘Best pick up the pace,’ Camlin said. ‘We’ve got company.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
VERADIS
Veradis reined in his horse as Dun Carreg came into view.