‘Peritus is a skilled warrior, wise in the art of war, in tactics and strategy,’ Fidele said.
‘I know it,’ Krelis murmured. He had spent over a year riding with Peritus and his warband, learning from the battlechief, much like Veradis had done with Nathair. Although Veradis had stayed, while Krelis had returned home to Ripa and his father.
‘That is why he was my husband’s battlechief. I am not highlighting the difference in casualties during the campaign in Carnutan to shame him, because I know that he is truly great at what he does, and the best that Tenebral has to offer. But my son is a strategist, with a craftsman’s heart. The fact is that a war to end all wars is coming. The God-War will claim many lives, maybe even our own. My son’s logic is faultless – the shield wall stops our men from dying. And it kills the enemy with an efficiency that has not been seen before; is that not right, Peritus?’
‘Just so,’ the battlechief said.
‘You will train your men in the shield wall, and after your first battle remind yourself of this conversation. And your warriors’ wives and mothers shall thank you, honour be damned.’
‘Of course Krelis will do as you say,’ Lamar said, giving his son a stern look.
‘The God-War,’ Ektor said, animated all of a sudden. ‘Nathair and Veradis talked of it when they visited after Aquilus’ council. Nathair spoke of a book, a giant book and a prophecy.’
‘Yes, the writings of Halvor.’
‘I would dearly love to see it.’
‘That’s impossible, I’m afraid. I do not have it.’
‘Why, where is it?’ Ektor looked devastated.
‘Meical had it. As far as I know, he has it still.’
‘I have heard that name before – Aquilus’ counsellor, yes?’ Lamar asked.
Fidele nodded.
‘And where is this Meical?’ Lamar said.
I have asked that question more times than you can imagine. Fidele had liked Meical, even though there had been something frightening about him – an intensity thinly veiled.
‘He has not been seen since my husband was murdered,’ Fidele said.
‘What do you know of him?’ Lamar asked. ‘What realm is he from? Does he have kin that he could be tracked to?’
‘I do not know,’ Fidele said, feeling foolish before the words were out of her mouth. Meical had come to Tenebral a long time ago, before Nathair was born, and spent a long night in council with Aquilus. When day had dawned, Aquilus had brought Meical to her, and that had been the first time she had heard the God-War mentioned. Meical had soon been declared Aquilus’ counsellor, and almost immediately had left – travelling to Forn in search of Drassil, the hidden fortress. Aquilus had trusted him utterly, and so had she. But, who are you, Meical?
‘Well, he must be found. I need to see that book,’ Ektor said.
‘Really, why?’ Fidele asked.
‘My son is a scholar,’ Lamar said. ‘The past is his passion. We have an extensive library here, at Ripa. Left by the giants.’
‘Aquilus spoke of it to me,’ Fidele said.
‘I need to see that book,’ Ektor repeated, almost to himself.
‘Why?’
He looked up then, held her gaze with bright, sharp eyes. ‘Because I think I know who, or what, Meical is.’
CHAPTER FORTY
CORALEN
‘I see them,’ Coralen said, turning in her saddle and gesturing to Rath.
‘Where?’ asked Rath, squinting into the distance.
‘There,’ Coralen said, pointing. ‘Not on the giants’ road. To the south, moving into the foothills before the mountains.’
They were riding through grassland, skirting the giants’ road. Up ahead loomed the range of mountains that separated Domhain from Cambren, the giants’ road cutting a deep gully through them.
‘Damn my old eyes,’ Rath said, then was silent a while. ‘I see them,’ he said finally. ‘Well done, Cora; you’re the best tracker I’ve known, and I’ve known a few.’
Coralen snapped a glance at him, surprised. ‘You going soft in your old age?’ she said.
‘Maybe I am. How long till we catch them?’
‘Depends. One day, if things stay as they are.’
‘Good. My arse is sore – too much riding. I must be getting old – I’d rather be having a drink back in Dun Taras.’
Coralen snorted.
‘Still don’t like visiting your home?’
‘Dun Taras? That’s not my home. Here’s my home.’ She slapped her saddle. ‘Anywhere you are is my home.’
‘Now who’s going soft?’
Coralen smiled at that. Truth be told, she’d rather be just about anywhere than back in Dun Taras.