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The Faithful and the Fallen: Ruin Part 47

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'I am,' Alcyon agreed slowly.

'Where are they from?'

'We lived once in your Tenebral, our realm stretching further north and east, all the way to what you call Arcona, the Sea of Gra.s.s.'

'And within your clan, who are you?'

'What do you mean?' Alcyon asked suspiciously.



'You see how our people are divided king, s.h.i.+eldman, warrior, blacksmith, horsemaster, s.h.i.+pbuilder, and so on. What were you?'

Alcyon's brows jutted, a frown creasing them. 'I am nothing,' he growled.

Veradis shrugged. 'It's your business. But for my part, I don't agree that you are nothing, now. If nothing else you are my friend.'

Alcyon turned his gaze upon Veradis for long moments. Then he nodded. 'As you are mine,' he said.

Nathair turned and walked over to them.

'I am sailing for Tenebral today,' Veradis said, remembering why he came here. 'I wished to speak with you, before I left. As we once did.'

Nathair nodded. He looked pale, much as he had after taking his wound when Aquilus had been murdered. 'I have wished to speak with you, share that jug of wine. But . . .' he spread his hands.

'I know. The days are too short,' Veradis finished for him. There was a change in Nathair. Veradis recognized it. The same aura surrounded Alcyon, always had.

Melancholy.

'Aye, they are,' Nathair agreed.

'We have now, though, at least.' Mist drifted around their feet, evaporating with the rising sun. Behind them Uthandun was a hazy shadow, the sounds of its waking distant and muted. All seemed still and silent. Veradis pulled a wine skin from his shoulder and pulled out the stopper with his teeth. 'Good wine from Ripa,' he said, grinning.

Nathair smiled at that, took the skin and drank deep. For a moment Veradis thought he'd drain the whole skin. He pa.s.sed it back, a drop of dark red wine running into his short beard.

Veradis offered some to Alcyon.

'So, tell me of Murias,' Veradis said to Nathair.

Nathair grimaced, a twist of his mouth. 'The Benothi were fierce, fought harder than I imagined possible. Wyrms guarded the cauldron, many. Three, four score of them. Near a thousand of the Jehar fell.' He recited the facts with little to no emotion.

He speaks as if he is reading it from the histories, not as if he were there, in the thick of it.

The Jehar were the most accomplished and deadly warriors Veradis had ever witnessed. He could not imagine a foe strong enough to slay a thousand of them.

'How many Benothi were there?'

'A few hundred,' Alcyon said. 'But many sided with Uthas.'

'Survivors?' Veradis asked.

'Uthas has fifty or so Benothi with him,' Alcyon answered. 'Of those who stood against us, they have joined with Meical and the Black Sun. Maybe thirty.'

'And what of Cywen?' That was a question he'd wished to ask since Nathair had arrived, but felt somehow foolish asking it when the others were around.

'Cywen,' Nathair raised his eyebrows and Alcyon looked at his feet.

'She escaped,' Alcyon rumbled. 'Another failure that I am held accountable for.'

'Corban took her. He appeared when the battle for the cauldron was at its most fierce,' Nathair said. 'I saw them flee the hall together.'

Good. Veradis did not know why, but it was important to him that Cywen lived. That she was safe. She had seemed to be an innocent swept up in dark times. Not that she is safe while in the company of the Black Sun.

'I met Corban, the Black Sun,' Veradis said. 'He was at the Battle of Domhain Pa.s.s, led a night raid on Rhin's warband. He wore a wolven pelt, he and a few others.'

'He has a wolven,' Nathair said. 'Storm, he calls it. It was at Murias.'

'Aye. Between them they scared the living h.e.l.ls out of Rhin's men. Many fled during the night.'

Nathair shrugged. 'I'm not surprised, if they thought wolven were fighting against them.'

'He called for you Corban, when he saw the eagle-guard and our s.h.i.+eld wall.'

'Called for me?' Nathair raised an eyebrow at that, for the first time looking more than mildly interested.

'Aye. He called you out, declared you coward, claimed you slew his da.'

'I did,' Nathair whispered.

'He challenged you to the court of swords.'

'He did? Brave of him.'

'Aye. I went to fight him in your place, but . . .' He trailed off, remembering Bos dragging him back, because of the Jehar who had stood beside Corban, the one that had single-handedly slain Rauca and near a dozen other eagle-guard. He closed his eyes, the chaos and panic caused by the night raid coming back to him in vivid detail, could hear the crack of the s.h.i.+eld wall closing up tight before him.

'He got away,' Veradis shrugged.

'Aye, well. He seems to have a knack for that.'

Veradis dropped his eyes.

'It was meant to be, I suspect,' Nathair said, his voice softening. 'We shall meet someday, he and I, of that I have no doubt.'

'Aye. As long as I am with you when that day comes. We should face him together. That is my dream our warbands gathered behind us, facing the Black Sun and his allies, the war to be decided in one fell battle.'

'That is how I imagined it, once.'

'You don't think it will happen like that?'

'Perhaps,' Nathair sighed. 'The Black Sun,' he whispered, speaking the words as if for the first time.

'Aye.' Veradis frowned. What is wrong with him? It is as if he suffers with some malaise. 'We will hunt him down,' Veradis repeated, trying to stir up some spirit in his friend. 'But first I must deal with this rebellion in Tenebral.'

'Aye. It is a delicate situation,' Nathair said. His face became stern, angry, more fire in his eyes than Veradis had witnessed since they'd been reunited. 'But it is Tenebral. How can I lead an alliance or rule an empire if I cannot keep my own realm in order. You must be my hand of justice, Veradis.'

'I know,' Veradis said, fear edging his voice. Not fear of battle, of death, but fear of what he may have to do. My father. My brothers.

'It is your kin, I know,' Nathair said, his face softening. 'I suspect your father's hatred of the Vin Thalun is at the heart of it.'

'And my brother's,' Veradis muttered. 'Krelis despises the Vin Thalun.'

'If that is the root of the problem then I think you can repair the damage that has been done. It will require some diplomacy, which is not your strongest point, but it could be done.'

'Aye. If that is the problem, then I will solve it.' But what if it is more? What if it is deeper than that? I remember how my father spoke to Nathair. Dismissing him as an arrogant boy. I chose whom I would follow that day. He took a deep breath, swallowing his worry. All choices have consequences.

Nathair put a hand upon Veradis' shoulder. 'Perhaps I should send someone else, it is unfair to ask you to do this.'

'No,' Veradis said. 'You can trust me in this.'

'Trust you to do what?'

'Whatever is right. To enforce your will. You are King, your will and word is law.'

Nathair smiled, but even that was a faded shadow of its former self. His eyes narrowed as if he were in pain. 'If you judge that force is necessary . . . tread carefully. Keep your blade sheathed until all other routes are exhausted. He is your father . . .' Nathair looked at the palm of his hand, where he traced a white scar. Veradis had one of his own, made the night he and Nathair had sworn their oaths to one another, become brothers bound by blood. Alongside Nathair's old scar was a new cut, pinked now, healing but obviously fresh.

'What's that?'

Nathair stared at the new scar, then looked up at Veradis, emotion heavy within his eyes.

'Someone comes,' Alcyon said.

'There you are,' a voice called, Calidus and Sumur appearing over the crest of the dell. They marched quickly towards them.

Nathair leaned close to Veradis. 'It marks a new oath,' he whispered.

'A new oath? To whom?' Veradis asked.

Nathair's face s.h.i.+fted, emotions crossing it like clouds on a windswept day. 'Remember what I said, about your father.'

'Of course,' Veradis said. 'Nathair, you are troubling me. What is wrong? What new oath?'

'It is nothing,' Nathair said. He turned away, back to his draig, then glanced back over his shoulder. 'Keep a close watch on the path you follow, my friend, else one day you will look about you and not know where you are,' Nathair said quietly.

'Veradis,' Calidus said as he reached them. 'I have been looking for you. There are many last arrangements to speak of, before you sail.'

'Of course there are,' Veradis sighed. He was frowning, still looking at Nathair. 'I was just . . .'

'What?' Calidus asked, his wolf eyes boring into Veradis.

'Saying goodbye,' Nathair said for him.

'Ahh.' Calidus looked between the three of them Nathair, Veradis and Alcyon.

Veradis looked behind Calidus to Sumur. He had seen little of the Jehar since they had arrived, so busy had he been with the organizational duties of the journey to Tenebral that he had not even had time to go and view the cauldron, something that he had dearly wanted to do.

Seeing Sumur now he blinked and swore.

'What has happened to you?' he gasped. Sumur was clothed in his usual dark chainmail, his curved sword arching across his back; he was eating a chicken leg. His tanned skin had paled, though, veins clear beneath the skin. More striking though were his eyes. They were black, no pupil, no iris, just dark, inky wells.

'A token of the battle for the cauldron,' Calidus said. 'Witchcraft was used by the Benothi, and the Jehar bore the brunt of it. Many died, and those who survived now bear this memento. Think of it like a scar. A badge of honour, of their bravery.'

'This has happened to every one of them?' Veradis asked.

'Aye. Every last one who survived.'

'What of your vision?' Veradis said to Sumur, peering closely at the Jehar. 'Is it hindered?'

'No,' Sumur replied, his accent thick.

Veradis frowned, not quite believing him.

Sumur threw his chicken leg into the air; faster than Veradis could track he drew his sword from his back and left a silver blur as the blade hissed through the air.

The chicken leg fell to the ground, in two portions, neatly chopped in half.

'See,' Sumur said, sheathing his sword smoothly.

Veradis shrugged. 'Clearly your vision is fine.'

Calidus put an arm around Veradis' shoulder and steered him away.

'I wanted to talk to you,' Calidus said. 'Of the rebellion in Tenebral.'

'We have just been speaking of it,' Veradis said.

'No surprise, it must be on your mind.'

'Aye, it is.'

'Kin, eh. You can choose your friends, but not your kin,' Calidus said. 'My kin have had a habit of getting me into trouble. Try and find the middle ground. Avoid bloodshed if you can.' Calidus steered him back towards Uthandun. 'Of course he is your kin so a peaceful solution must be sought, but even putting sentiment aside, we need your father, Ripa, and his swords. Only remember, most of all you must support Lykos, not undermine him. And let your support for him be seen.'

'I will. Nathair has already asked as much.'

'Good. There is more, though. The situation in Tenebral is delicate.'

'What do you mean?'

'Fidele is involved.'

'Fidele, how?'

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