Malice

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

CYWEN

Cywen gritted her teeth, sweat trickling into her eyes, stinging, making her blink. She shook her head, trying to clear her vision, and felt Corban’s weapon thump into the join between neck and shoulder. Not that it was really a weapon, but a branch that they had tried to shape to resemble a practice sword.

She scowled, flung her own stick to the ground and held a hand up.

‘One moment,’ she muttered, trying to catch her breath.

Corban nodded, a smirk twitching at his mouth as he took a step back.

They were in their garden. The sky was a searing blue, cloudless, the sun high, hot, even though Midsummer’s Day was long past. She wiped sweat from her face and sat with a thump in the grass. Storm was nearby, oblivious to her, a coiled spring of soft fur as she stalked a clump of grass and goldenrods. Ears pricked forward, hugging the ground, she pounced. A toad leaped into the air, through her clumsy paws, and disappeared into more grass.

Corban tapped a skin of water against Cywen’s arm. She scowled at him again, but took the skin and gulped thirstily.

‘You’re supposed to be grateful,’ he said, standing above her.

‘For what? A new bruise?’ She rubbed her shoulder.

‘No. For teaching you the ways of a warrior.’ He spoke as if talking to a child.

‘Warrior,’ she snorted, raising an eyebrow at him.

He pulled a face at her.

‘I am grateful,’ she grinned, holding out a hand for him to help her rise. ‘It’s just annoying. How easily you beat me.’

‘It makes a nice change for me,’ he said with a smile. ‘I’ve more than enough of my own bruises.’

It was frustrating, feeling that you were learning something, progressing, becoming better, yet never getting closer at touching her pretend blade to any part of Corban. In fact, if anything, the gap between them was growing wider.

He must actually be learning something, she thought, looking him up and down.

He’s changing. The thought struck her suddenly, as she stood there. Not just his shape, although that was obvious — arms growing thicker, shoulders broader, face more angular. But in other ways, inside. Even today. He had returned from the Rowan Field quiet, thoughtful, but less troubled than she had seen him for some time. His smile seemed different, deeper.

‘Come, then,’ he said, setting his feet and raising his stick.

She retrieved her own, then looked up. Taking a few paces backwards and to her left, she set her back to the rose wall, stood in the shade of a squat tower that loomed over the garden, the sun behind her.

Corban chuckled, knowing she was trying to use the sun to blind him, as he had taught her, and attacked her anyway.

She did better this time, remembering how Corban had told her to use her feet, to keep her balance when lunging, how to avoid overstretching. She still didn’t touch him with her pretend weapon, though, not even coming close, but she did avoid being whacked for longer than the last time.

That must count for something.

Eventually, though, the frustration became too much. She rushed him, certain that she had him. . only to end up face first in the grass with dirt up her nose and laughter rising behind.

She turned her head, a curse forming, but Storm bounded over, sniffed her ear with a wet nose and pawed her face.

‘You let your emotions rule you,’ Corban said.

‘Idiot,’ Cywen muttered.

He turned away and looked up at the sun, shading his eyes. ‘Enough for today. Keep practising, Cy. You’re doing well.’

‘Ban. .’ she said, following him, but he ignored her, walking quickly towards their house.

Their da was in the kitchen, helping himself to a slice of meat and a cup of mead.

‘Da, I wanted to ask you something,’ said Corban.

‘Aye.’

‘Why did you not stop me from taking Storm to the Field this morning? After you had forbidden me for so long?’

Thannon swung his gaze onto Corban, was silent awhile. Then he shrugged.

‘I judged you ready,’ he said. ‘I knew it would not go easy on you, so you had to want it. Really want it.’ He smiled. ‘You had a look in your eyes this morning.’

Corban frowned, eyes crinkling. ‘Is that why you came? With Gar.’

‘You saw us, then?’

‘Aye — spying in the shadows.’

‘It was not like that, Ban.’ Thannon reached out a huge hand to ruffle Corban’s hair, but stopped halfway. ‘It was something you had to do. And I’m proud of you, lad. But sometimes, these things can get out of hand right quick. If we’d walked with you into the Field, how would you have felt?’

Corban thought about that a while. ‘Like a bairn.’

Thannon nodded. ‘Some things a man has to do by himself. But I wanted to be there, watch you. And that way, if things had got out of hand. Well. .’

Corban smiled. ‘Not the power of words again.’

Thannon chuckled. ‘Something like that.’

Cywen looked from face to face, frowning. ‘What’s going on? What are you two talking about? What happened in the Field today?’

Corban just smiled at her. ‘I’ll see you after,’ he said, and Thannon stepped out of the way.

‘Where are you going?’ Cywen called after him.

‘Think I’ll go and see Dath. It was his first day in the Field today.’

Cywen ran her thumb along the tip of her knife, pulled it back over her shoulder, focusing on the wooden post. A moment later the knife blade was deep in the post, its hilt vibrating with the force of her throw. She smiled, pleased with the accuracy, drew another knife from her belt and did it again. And then again.

Someone clapped behind her. She spun around, pulling another knife.

It was Princess Edana, Ronan at her shoulder.

‘What are you doing?’ Cywen snapped, despite herself, sheathing the blade. She didn’t like the thought of people being able to sneak up on her.

‘I knocked, but there was no answer,’ Edana said. ‘You must have been concentrating very hard.’

‘I was,’ Cywen said, marching to the post and pulling out her knives.

‘Be careful, you might cut yourself,’ said Ronan, Edana’s shieldman. He was grinning.

Cywen whirled; in a blur she sighted and threw the blade in her hand. With a soft thunk it sank into the tree Ronan was leaning against, about half a hand above his head.

‘Careful, girl,’ he spluttered, ducking. His grin had gone.

‘I only cut what I mean to,’ Cywen said, trying to keep a smile of her own from her face.

‘Can I see?’ Edana asked, looking at the knife in the tree.

‘Of course.’

Ronan wiggled the blade free, whistling as he ran his finger over its edge. ‘It’s weighted strange,’ he said.

‘It’s made for throwing, not stabbing. My da makes them.’ Inside she winced. Her mam had taught her to throw a knife, but her da had told her to keep the skill to herself, said others wouldn’t like her being so skilled with a weapon. Said it wasn’t womanly.

‘Your brother has caused quite a stir, taking his wolven to the Rowan Field this morning,’ Edana murmured as she studied Cywen’s knife.

‘What?’ said Cywen.

‘You don’t know?’

‘Nobody tells me anything,’ Cywen muttered sourly. ‘What happened?’

Edana told her.

So that’s what he and Da were talking about. Cywen felt a grin spill onto her face.

‘Your mam is at the keep,’ Edana said.

‘What?’

‘Gwenith. Your mam. I saw her in the keep. She was talking to my parents.’

‘She’s never done that before. What about?’

‘I don’t know.’ Edana shrugged. ‘I thought you might.’

Cywen shook her head. Her mam, seeking an audience with Brenin and Alona. Why? But she had looked troubled, of late. ‘You are a most useful friend to have,’ Cywen said, smiling at the Princess. ‘My very own spy in the keep.’

Edana grinned. ‘Where is your brother?’

‘He went to see Dath by the boats.’

‘Maybe he knows why your mam was in the keep. Let’s go and ask him.’

Ronan took the knife from Edana and handed it to Cywen. ‘That’s quite a skill you have there,’ he said.

Cywen stared at him a moment, saw the summer sun had dotted his face with freckles. He looks so young, she thought.

‘See something you like?’ he said, grinning again.

Cywen looked away, scowled, feeling her cheeks flush.

‘To the beach,’ Edana said.

They rode out of the fortress and took the track that led down to the bay.

‘There they are,’ said Edana.

Two figures were standing a little way off, near one of the boats. One was sitting on a smooth, table-like slab of rock, a small shadow at its feet. Storm. The other was throwing stones into the bay. They both turned as they heard the approaching horses.

Cywen lifted her hand, smiled at her brother and saw him wave in return.

They dismounted, Ronan minding the horses as Cywen and Edana joined Corban and Dath.

‘Cy. My lady,’ said Corban. Dath just stared at Edana, which for some reason annoyed Cywen.

‘Oh, none of that,’ said Edana, her lips pursed. ‘My name is Edana, not “lady”. We were looking for you.’

‘Aye. Well, you have found us,’ Corban said with a faint smile.

‘Edana saw Mam,’ Cywen said. ‘At the keep, with the King and Queen. Do you know why she was there?’

Corban shook his head. ‘No.’ He frowned. ‘Why? Mam’s never done that before.’

‘That’s what I said.’

‘We’ll ask her tonight.’

‘No, Corban,’ said Edana. ‘Your mam took pains not to be seen — cloak on, hood pulled up, and she was led into the keep by my mother. Not Evnis or Heb, no other guards. If you ask her, it will probably lead back to me. Then your spy would be discovered, and that wouldn’t do at all, would it?’

Storm appeared from behind a boulder and padded over to Corban, standing by his heel. Edana bent down. Storm stayed where she was, considering the Princess with copper eyes.

‘Friend,’ Corban muttered, and the wolven-cub padded forward, sniffing Edana’s outstretched hand.

‘She’s beautiful,’ said Edana, beaming.

‘Aye, she is. Shame not everyone agrees with you.’

‘I heard about your morning. In the Field.’

‘Oh aye.’

‘You should have seen him,’ said Dath. ‘Ban, all on his own, standing up to at least a score of them, warriors an’ all.’

Corban coughed, blushing suddenly, and looked at his feet.

‘And he put Rafe in the right place — knocked him on his arse,’ Dath continued, laughing now.

‘Enough, Dath. It wasn’t like that, anyway.’

‘Yes, it was,’ said a voice from behind them. Ronan strode closer. ‘And I’m not the only one who saw. Took some stones to do that.’

Corban just grunted.

‘How was your first day in the Field, Dath?’ Cywen asked.

‘Good,’ said Dath, skimming a stone into the bay.

‘Your da must have been proud.’

‘Well, he was there, at least.’

‘Who’s your weapons-master, boy?’ asked Ronan.

‘Tarben,’ Dath said, turning now. ‘He knows how to use a blade.’ Reverence dripped from his voice.

‘Aye, to be sure. And if his skill with a blade doesn’t kill his foe, he has a secret weapon,’ said Ronan, grinning.

‘What’s that?’ asked Dath.

‘His tongue. Once he starts moaning, he can suck the joy of life right out of any man. Makes you want to lay down your blade and let him kill you. I’ve heard it’s ancient sorcery, passed down from the giant Elementals.’ They all laughed except Dath, who looked a little offended.

Ronan winked at Cywen and she felt her cheeks colour again. She looked away, struggled for conversation.

‘It is good to have your da back from Tenebral,’ she said to Edana.

‘Yes, it is. Mam is smiling again. Although he has been different.’

‘Different?’ said Cywen.

‘I’ve never seen him so angry as when Marrock was taken.’

‘And my lord,’ said Ronan. ‘Pendathran thought he had lost his brother’s-son. And to the same killers.’

‘Marrock is back now. And Father is planning to deal with Braith. Once and for all.’

‘What do you mean?’ Dath asked.

‘I’ve heard him talking with Pendathran. My father is talking of clearing the Darkwood, once and for all.’

‘How?’ said Ronan. He shook his head. ‘He cannot do that — the Darkwood does not lie only in Ardan. It spans a border with Narvon, leagues long. Owain,’ he hawked and spat, ‘he will not lend his aid. Braith will just hide his men in those parts of the Darkwood that cover Narvon. Brenin cannot take armed men there.’

‘Not yet. But Father thinks the situation will change. It is to do with his journey to Tenebral. I couldn’t quite understand what he meant. But he is asking for a gathering on Midwinter’s Day, with Rhin, Owain and Eremon.’

‘Where? Here?’ said Ronan. ‘They will never come, not so far into Ardan. Owain judges others by his own heart. He would fear treachery.’

‘Not here,’ said Edana. ‘At the giants’ stone circle.’

Many stories surrounded the huge ring of stones, holy place and ancient meeting ground of the Benothi giant clan.

‘Maybe,’ muttered Ronan. ‘It still lies within Ardan, but within sight of Narvon’s border. And close to the Darkwood, which I like even less.’

Edana shrugged. ‘Father is sending out riders, inviting them all: Owain, Rhin, even Eremon from Domhain.’

‘Why?’ said Corban, frowning. ‘What is he hoping to achieve?’

‘I’m not sure. I wasn’t supposed to hear, you understand, I was. .’

‘Spying,’ said Corban with a grin. Edana shrugged and smiled back.

‘And why would Eremon of Domhain come? Braith and the Darkwood are far from his borders,’ Ronan said.

‘There is more to it than outlaws in the Darkwood,’ Edana said. ‘It has to do, I think, with a prophecy, or something that Father heard in Tenebral.’ She took a deep breath, frowning. A cold breeze gusted off the bay. ‘He mentioned a sign, on Midwinter’s Day, and a. . a Black Sun.’