Malice

CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

CYWEN

Cywen wiped sweat from her eyes. The air was cold, crisp, a constant, sharp wind blowing off the sea, but she had been working hard. She’d spent most of the morning and well into the afternoon breaking a colt to saddle.

Gar grunted when she reported her tasks done for the day. He seemed distant.

‘I need Hammer brought up from the paddocks,’ he said to Cywen. ‘If you leave now you’ll be back in good time for the evening meal.’

Cywen frowned. It was a long walk to the paddocks. If she’d known earlier she would have asked Ban to wait, but he was long gone. She shrugged.

‘Go on then, girl, be off with you,’ Gar said, marching away. Cywen set off for Stonegate.

Part-way to the bridge she remembered she had forgotten to harvest vegetables before the evening meal. Her mam would not be happy, so, muttering to herself, she changed direction and ran home. It was empty, not even Buddai warming himself before the fire.

Quickly she started gathering greens, her mind drifting to Ronan, and his increasingly distracting smile. And he was always looking at her, though he tried not to let her see. She felt her own smile spreading. .

A noise came from the kitchen — the garden door opening.

Instinctively Cywen ducked behind a tree. She glimpsed her mam peering into the garden, then the door clicked shut again.

What am I doing? she thought, frowning as she headed for the kitchen. But then footsteps sounded as several people entered the room, but quietly, which seemed strange. There was no greeting, only the scrape of chair legs, the sound of drinks being poured.

She peeked through the crack between shutter and wall and it took a moment for her eyes to adjust. Her mam was standing at one end of the table, looking almost scared. Sitting before her were Thannon, Gar, and the man who had ridden in earlier, Meical.

Gwenith drank from her cup, a tremor in her hand, and a tense silence grew.

‘Where is the boy?’ a rich, lilting voice asked — this Meical.

‘At Brina’s. She is a healer,’ Gar said. ‘Her dwelling is beyond the village.’

‘And your daughter?’

‘She is not here, I have checked. We are alone,’ Gwenith said.

‘Good,’ grunted Meical.

‘Why? Why have you come?’ Gwenith finally said, breaking the quiet.

‘King Aquilus is dead.’

Cywen could not see her da’s face, but Gwenith’s mouth fell open. Gar just stared.

‘How?’ Gwenith gasped.

‘Slain. Murdered in his own chamber.’ Meical bowed his head. ‘It is a grievous loss.’

‘Who?’ said Gar.

Meical rubbed his eyes. ‘I was told Mandros, King of Carnutan. He openly opposed Aquilus, was proud, arrogant. And he fled. But I suspect there is more to it. Asroth’s hand is in this.’

‘More to it? What do you mean?’ Gwenith asked.

‘I cannot say, yet. Perhaps I should have stayed longer at Jerolin, but when it happened, a terror fell upon me, such as I have never known. I had to see the boy.’

‘But you said we would not see you again, until the time. The danger — what if you were followed?’ Gwenith said, her voice rising.

‘Peace,’ Meical muttered, holding a hand up. ‘I know your concerns. I felt them myself, but I had to see him — to know he was safe. And I have been careful: the passes through the Agullas closed soon after I travelled them, and no one can match Miugra’s pace. I rode him harder than he has ever known, and I took precautions. I will not be tracked.’ He leaned back in his chair, his face relaxing. ‘The boy looks well.’

Gwenith smiled at that. ‘He is. He is a good boy.’

Cywen could not believe what she heard as she eavesdropped, her legs stiff from standing still so long, trying even to breath quietly. She felt at sea: talk of Aquilus, Jerolin, Carnutan. Did they mean the Aquilus — the one who had called King Brenin to a council?

Suddenly, though, something had become clear. For some reason they were talking about Ban. Her Ban.

‘How go things with him?’ Meical said.

Gwenith just nodded and smiled, glancing between Gar and Thannon. ‘He is special, of course — he is my boy. But ever since you came to us, told us. .’ She paused and grimaced. ‘I have watched him, tried to watch him, with objective eyes. He is sharp-witted, strong, honest, for the most part. Kind. And he is happy, I hope. You are not here to take him?’ she said suddenly. ‘I will not allow that.’ A fierceness crept into her voice.

‘No one is taking our boy anywhere,’ rumbled Thannon. His hand reached out and covered Gwenith’s.

‘I am not here for that,’ Meical said, ‘though I told you, the day will come when he must leave. Go to Drassil. But not alone. With you both, and Gar, of course.’

‘Aye, so you say,’ Thannon said. ‘In truth, it has been so long since you came to us.’ He sighed and rubbed a hand over his eyes. ‘I am only a blacksmith, and all your talk, I do not know about any of that. And it was so long ago. Until recently I had thought it all a bad dream, but things have been happening. Strange things. .’

‘Yes. The darkness will be upon us soon.’

‘Aye. Well. Corban is a good lad. I am proud of him. I could not have asked for more in a son. And I am scared for him. .’

Gwenith made a sound in her throat and looked away.

‘We have prepared him as best we can,’ Thannon continued. ‘Taught him his letters, the histories, the benefit of hard work, truth and courage, right and wrong, I hope. And Gar has kept another pair of eyes on him, trained him, for which I’m glad.’

‘My thanks to you,’ Meical said. ‘Much was asked of you. Much still is.’

‘He is my son, my blood, my heart, my joy, my breath. No one need ask anything. I will do all that I can for him. Protect him. Fight for him. Die for him, if need be.’

Meical grunted, nodding, then looked to Gar.

‘And you? I have thought of you much over the years. Not an easy burden.’

Gar shrugged. ‘Mine is the greatest honour. I have learned not all glory comes from the battlefield.’ He shrugged. ‘It is as they say: he is bright, strong, just. He has learned his weapons well — more than well. He excels.’

‘Praise indeed,’ said Meical.

‘He had dreams,’ Gwenith added. ‘Bad dreams.’

‘Has he spoken of them with you?’

‘No. Never. He would cry out through the night. Awake sweating, fearful. But they have passed. He has not called out in his sleep for some moons now.’

Meical smiled. ‘Good. Asroth’s search for him has not been restricted to this world of flesh. But the fallen one has been thwarted. For a time, at least. And the wolven? Tell me — how has this come to pass?’

Gwenith raised her hands, palms up. ‘Ban saved her, as a cub. He has raised her since, regardless of all opposition.’

‘Huh,’ Thannon grunted.

‘Very good. He can never have too many guardians, and something tells me the wolven will guard him better than most. I will speak with King Brenin before I leave. I do not think we will talk again, until. .’ He stood, chair scraping. ‘I wish I could stay with you, ease your burden, but my presence would draw attention. We must give the boy all the time we can.’ He paused, looking troubled. ‘It would be good for him to sit his Long Night here. Then he can be told. Be vigilant — things are moving at a pace that I had not foreseen. I think I must journey to Drassil, make sure all is in place.’ He looked at Gar. ‘Your father will hear of your faithfulness.’ The stablemaster straightened in his seat, his eyes lightening.

Meical strode to the door, then paused. ‘Trust no one,’ he said. ‘Even, even if Aquilus’ own blood rides through Stonegate. Trust only Brenin.’ Then he opened the door and stepped into the streets of Dun Carreg.