Trust her to ask that question, Corban thought.
Gar looked at him, waiting for his permission, and Brina gave Corban a sharp look. Corban nodded.
‘You have all heard something of Brenin’s journey to Tenebral, of the council he attended?’
There were murmurs of assent. Corban noticed Edana stand straighter, looking as intent, as focused as he had seen her since they had left Dun Carreg.
‘And you all know something of the subject of that council, the God-War?’
More murmurs, coupled with frowns this time.
‘What’s that got to do with anything?’ Dath muttered.
‘Some here know more than others about these things,’ Heb said, moving to stand beside Brina. ‘Why don’t you tell what you think is necessary for all to know, to understand what you are saying.’
‘All right,’ said Gar. ‘There was a prophecy spoken of at the council, discovered in the city of Drassil, the heart of Forn Forest. It was written by Haldor, a giant from the time of the Scourging.’
Now everyone in the camp was silent, fixed on Gar.
‘The prophecy spoke of the God-War, spoke of signs of its coming: the giant-stones weeping blood, white wyrms roaming the land, the awakening of the Seven Treasures, of Midwinter’s Day, when day became night. Those portents have all occurred. It said that the gods Asroth and Elyon, and their angels and demons, would make the Banished Lands their battleground, and that each god would be championed by a chosen avatar: the Black Sun and the Bright Star.’ Gar took a deep breath, shoulders straightening. ‘I am Garisan ben Tukul of the Jehar, and my life from the moment I first drew breath until now has been dedicated to Elyon. I have been given a great honour, chosen to protect the Bright Star, to defend him with my life.’
‘I don’t understand,’ Dath whispered to Farrell.
‘Shut up and listen,’ Farrell hissed, jabbing Dath with his elbow.
‘So, again,’ Brina said, eyes narrowed to slits now. ‘Why are you here?’
‘Because Corban is the Bright Star, the Seren Disglair, avatar of Elyon.’
There was a long silence, then Dath laughed.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
FIDELE
Fidele rode through the wooden gates of Ripa, Peritus at her side, two score of her eagle-guard behind them. Things had escalated since the discovery of the body in the lake. The discovery of Jace – give the dead a name. He had obviously been murdered for his part in informing her about the Vin Thalun fighting pits. Peritus had had a fire lit in his bones, then, and had set about rooting out every scrap of information in Tenebral about the Vin Thalun. Word had reached them from Lamar, Baron of Ripa, that had been worth investigating in person.
It was late in the day, the sun low but still warm. The smell of salt filled Fidele’s lungs, the calling of gulls and the murmur of the sea underpinning all else.
They were met by a group of mounted men, Krelis ben Lamar at their head.
‘My lady,’ he said to her. ‘You would be best served by staying here. There may be hard words and bloodshed ahead of us. My father is looking forward to the pleasure of your company.’
‘Well, he will have to wait a little longer for it. I did not ride over a hundred leagues to sit in a tower and wait for others to tell me of events,’ she said, less politely than she intended.
‘But—’ Krelis began.
‘No. I am coming. There will be no discussion on it. I have my guards.’
Krelis frowned but said no more.
Not as brainless as he looks, Fidele thought.
He led them out of the fortress, turning north once they had left all buildings behind. They skirted Sarva, last great forest of the south, travelling steadily north as the sun sank into an ocean of green boughs. Fidele saw the outline of a fortress on a hill, ringed by trees. Its towers and walls were jagged in their ruin, framed by the dying sun.
Balara, once-great fortress of the Kurgan giants.
They rode up the hill, shadows stretching far behind them, through a thin scattering of trees and up to the walls of Balara.
‘The gates have been cleared,’ Krelis said to her and Peritus, pointing to where fallen rubble was piled high to either side of a wide stone archway.
‘You see,’ Peritus said to her, ‘the reports are true.’
‘Let’s go and see why they have gone to all this hard work,’ Fidele said. As they rode forward a horn call rang out, high and ululating.
‘They’ve seen us,’ Krelis called, spurring his horse to greater speed.
He clattered onto the stone, Fidele and their mingled warriors close behind. They passed through a wide stone street, then Fidele saw faces, saw figures running in all directions, others standing, just staring. As she sped closer she could see the iron in their beards.