‘The other we shall not speak of,’ Brina said.
Heb regarded her a moment, then shrugged. ‘Suffice to say that blood seems to be important. There are suggestions that some bloodlines are stronger; perhaps a purer lineage from the first men. And then there is the use of actual blood; from a living body—’
‘I said we will not speak of that,’ Brina snapped.
‘As you wish. You must understand, Corban, that this is not set out plain. Brina and I have spent years putting scraps of knowledge together.’
‘We studied and learned,’ Brina said. ‘There is value in reading, as I have always told you, though it took us years, decades, to discover even a small portion of what is contained in this book.’
‘So how do I make mist rise from the ground?’ He liked the thought of that, remembering the escape from Dun Carreg – a thick mist enveloping them, hiding them from their attackers. That could be a handy trick to know. He felt a glimmer of excitement.
‘In essence, the act of elemental control can be broken down to two parts,’ Heb said in his loremaster’s voice. ‘You have to believe it, and then you have to speak it.’
‘So if I tell mist to rise from the ground, then it will? It cannot be that simple.’
‘Well, yes and no,’ Heb said with a faint smile. ‘Your words show you are defeated already – you do not believe it will happen. I do not mean that you think it might happen, and so give it a try. You have to believe it, absolutely, as you believe a chair will support your weight before you sit upon it, or that an apple will fall to the ground when you drop it.’
‘And there is common sense,’ Brina added.
‘Yes, you must be aware of your surroundings. For example, you could not command a mist to arise from a desert. Mist is moisture, water. In Dun Carreg Brina and I commanded the moisture in the ground to rise up. If it had not been there to begin with, then nothing would have happened. You understand?’
‘Yes.’ Corban nodded. It did make sense to him. This is becoming interesting.
‘So, then, I have to believe whatever it is that I want to happen, and then I just speak it.’
‘Yes,’ Heb said.
‘Though it’s still not quite that simple,’ Brina said.
Of course it isn’t.
‘You have to speak it in this language,’ Heb said, taking the book from Brina and opening it. It was full of runes, a script that Corban recognized from the inscription carved into the archway of Stonegate, back in Dun Carreg.
‘Is that giantish?’ he asked.
‘Yes,’ Brina said.
‘It is much more than that,’ Heb said. ‘It is the first language. The tongue of angels, giants, men. It is the language of Elyon, the Maker.’
‘So I have to learn giantish.’ Inwardly, Corban groaned.
‘Yes,’ Brina said. She smiled.
There was a rustling in the undergrowth and Storm appeared. She nudged him, making him stagger, and then she growled, looking through the trees.
‘What is it?’ Corban said, then saw three figures appearing from the underbrush. He recognized Halion. Immediately Corban knew something was wrong – the figure in the middle was being supported, half carried.
Marrock.
He was waxen pale, one arm hanging limp, blood dripping from it.
‘What happened?’ Corban called as he ran to them, to help carry the injured man into their camp.
‘Wounded during our raid,’ Halion breathed. ‘Think he was mauled by one of their hounds.’
‘It’s not that bad,’ Marrock said.
‘I’ll be the judge of that,’ Brina snapped. She sent Corban running for her pack as she examined Marrock’s arm.
‘Everyone be ready to ride,’ Camlin called out, marching through the camp. ‘We need t’move. Think we’ve been tracked.’
All the mounts were saddled and ready.
When Corban returned to Brina she was pouring water from a skin over the wound. Corban caught a sight of frayed flesh and white bone amidst the blood. Brina took her pack from Corban, rummaged inside it a moment, then unstoppered a jug of something, muttered, ‘This is going to sting,’ and poured it over the wound. Marrock drew in a sharp breath and Brina bandaged his forearm, placing leaves over the bite-marks.
A horn call rang out behind them, answered by the baying of hounds, much louder than Corban would have liked.
‘We must leave,’ Halion said.
‘Dath, string your bow and follow me,’ Camlin said, mounting a saddled horse. Dath looked about nervously, then followed the woodsman.
‘Can you ride?’ Brina asked Marrock, who was drenched in sweat. He nodded and was hastily assisted into a saddle, then they were all riding hard away from the sound of their pursuers.