Malice

CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

VERADIS

‘Not long, now,’ said Calidus.

Veradis leaned forward, peering over Nathair’s shoulder. The new King was kneeling on the ground, staring intently at a large egg nestled before him in mounds of straw.

As Veradis watched, a thin crack, no wider than a hair, appeared amidst the blue and green of the shell. It spread quickly, cobwebbing out from a central point that soon became a hole, growing before his eyes.

Thick, clear fluid leaked from the hole, then the shell began to push outwards. There were a series of audible cracks and suddenly a flat muzzle was visible.

‘Help it, Nathair,’ Calidus said sharply, ‘this must be done by one man alone.’

They were in a stable box, with Valyn, a larger crowd gathered beyond the stable gate.

Nathair began pulling bits of shell away, widening the hole, his hands soon slick with the jelly-like fluid oozing from the egg. The creature within thrust its snout through the hole, its head following, getting stuck at the shoulders. It twisted about, jaws snapping, trying to free itself.

Nathair dug his fingers into the shell, around the creature’s shoulders, strained, and with a snap the egg broke and fell away, leaving a slimy, lizard-like creature standing in its ruin, about half an arm in length, from snout to tail-tip.

Veradis shivered, suddenly remembering seeing this creature’s kin charging up a hill slope towards him. It bore the same broad skull, flat muzzle and thick tail. Needle-like teeth glittered as it opened its mouth, letting out a strange, dog-like bark.

‘Feed it, quickly,’ Calidus said.

Nathair reached behind him into a wooden bucket and pulled out a handful of raw meat. He opened his palm before the muzzle of the baby draig, which was sniffing loudly, its head twitching from side to side with eyes shut tight. It caught the scent, head lunging forwards. A long tongue snaked out of its mouth, licked Nathair’s hand and the meat, and it started eating noisily.

‘Now give it the remains of its shell,’ Calidus said quietly, as the draig ate the last meat from Nathair’s hand. Obediently the King of Tenebral did so and the draig crunched up pieces of shell, Nathair guiding them into its mouth, slime hanging in thick tendrils from its jaw.

‘Ugly beast,’ Valyn whispered in Veradis’ ear. He smiled.

When the draig was done, it scratched at the straw, turned in a circle and promptly went to sleep.

‘Well done,’ Calidus said as Nathair stood and they all retreated from the stable box. ‘He will be bonded to you already, but you must continue to feed it. You and only you.’

‘Aye. Did you hear that, Valyn? No one else is to enter this box but me. I want a guard set to watch it, and word sent whenever it needs feeding.’

‘Aye, my King,’ Valyn said, dipping his head. ‘Uh, if you don’t mind me asking,’ he muttered, ‘how often, exactly, does it need feeding?’

Nathair looked to Calidus, who frowned. ‘I’m not sure.’ The Vin Thalun shrugged. ‘I would imagine the draig will let you know.’ He smiled.

‘Use your judgement, Valyn,’ Nathair said. ‘Now, fetch me a bucket of water for my hands.’

The crowd that had gathered to watch dispersed quickly, and soon Veradis was left with Nathair, Valyn, Calidus and the giant.

‘Draig-Rider,’ Nathair said, grinning. ‘Alcyon, I am in your debt.’

The giant said nothing, just dipped his head.

‘You must teach me all you know of these beasts,’ Nathair said to Calidus as they left the stables, Valyn peering over the stable door at the sleeping draig.

‘Of course,’ Calidus said.

‘Good. Very good. Now, I have a task to attend to. My mother has asked for me, and she is still fragile. I will summon you all later. There is much I need to discuss with you. It is time, I think, for a Council of War.’

Sunlight streamed through the open window, a shaft of light slicing into the gloomy room. Veradis grimaced, looking out onto the lake and plains beyond the fortress. It was a little past highsun, thin clouds high above blunting the full heat of the day. The mountains were a ragged, white-tipped outline in the distance. He sighed and turned away from the view.

The last time he had been in this room he had discovered Nathair lying in a pool of blood and Aquilus dead beneath the window.

He squeezed his eyes shut.

‘Are you well, Veradis?’ Nathair asked.

‘Me? Aye, well enough.’ He poured himself a cup of wine from a jug on the table and offered some to Lykos, who was reclining in one of a few chairs arranged around the table. The Vin Thalun held his cup out.

There was a knock on the door, and Peritus entered without waiting for an answer. Following him strode Calidus, with the hulking shape of Alcyon close behind.

‘Please, sit,’ Nathair said, waving a hand. Veradis sat next to Peritus, who acknowledged him with a twitch of his lips.

‘This is a Council of War,’ Nathair said, addressing the room. ‘Things have been difficult for me, since Midwinter’s Day. The effects of my wound lingered much longer than I expected. But my father is now avenged, and I am fully recovered. It is time to start doing, rather than waiting.’

‘What do you mean by “doing”, exactly?’ asked Peritus.

‘My father set things in motion. I would see his plans, his dreams, come to fruition. He planned for aid to be given to those who stood with him in his alliance: to Rahim of Tarbesh, Romar of Isiltir, Braster of Helveth, Brenin of Ardan.’

‘Aye,’ Peritus grunted.

‘Rahim has received that aid. The others have not.’

‘When will we leave?’ Veradis said, feeling a flicker of excitement.

Nathair smiled. ‘Patience, my first-sword. There is much to arrange.’ He looked at Peritus. ‘I would not have my personal warband split between these tasks.’

‘You are King of Tenebral, now,’ Peritus said. ‘Its warriors are yours to command.’

‘Yes, and the warriors of my realm shall fight, make war, as I see fit.’

Peritus frowned.

‘You saw my wall of shields in action, did you not?’ Nathair levelled at the battlechief.

‘Aye, I did. It was efficient.’

Nathair snorted. ‘Efficient? Veradis returned less two score men than he set out with. Your warband lost over five hundred swords, and Veradis led the van.’

‘I know it well. He is a brave lad,’ Peritus added.

‘Brave. Aye, he is. But that is not what I speak of. Peritus, I do not have a limitless supply of warriors — Tenebral does not. I can ill afford to lose more, unnecessarily. If you had trained your warband in the shield wall, how many would have fallen? How many would have made the journey back with you, lived to fight another day, that are now corpses, lying cold on the bank of a river?’

Peritus mumbled something, looking away.

‘So I have made a decision.’ Nathair stood. ‘All that would hold a blade in my realm, that would call themselves a warrior of Tenebral, must learn this new way of making war. They must learn the shield wall.’ He fixed his eyes on Peritus. ‘I will brook no dissent on this matter.’

‘Yes, my King,’ Peritus said, his face now a blank, his thoughts hidden.

‘Good,’ Nathair said, smiling suddenly. ‘You will see, Peritus — the shield wall will help us win our war against Asroth and his Black Sun.’

‘Aye, my lord. How, exactly, do you mean to execute this plan?’

‘Veradis shall choose a few score men that were with him in Carnutan, those he deems capable of leading as well as teaching. They will be sent to my barons and will train their warbands. They shall be the foundations of a new breed of warrior, forging warbands the like of which has never been seen in the Banished Lands before. We are mustering for war.’

Veradis felt his blood stirring at Nathair’s words. He could almost see the warriors locking shields, thousands instead of hundreds.

‘When?’ he said.

‘Immediately. Give some thought to the men you would choose. As soon as that is done they will leave.’

Veradis nodded thoughtfully. ‘If your warband is being split to train new men, how will we be able to aid Braster and Romar, or Brenin?’

‘You see to the heart of it, my friend. The answer is we must wait a while, until these new warbands are ready.’

Veradis frowned. ‘How long?’

‘Two moons, at the earliest. Maybe longer.’

‘But summer will be past by then, and with a long journey, we would be arriving at winter’s beginning.’

‘Possibly. If that is the case, then we may have to wait for next spring.’ Nathair shrugged. ‘There is much else to do, Veradis. Do not fret: I will not have you sitting idle in these cold walls. But if the training goes well you may yet see more battle before the year is out.’

Veradis looked doubtful. ‘Helveth we can reach, but Ardan — that is a long way.’

‘Aye, it is,’ Nathair said. ‘By foot.’ He looked to Lykos, who was lounging in his chair, long legs stretched out.

‘I could get a warband to Ardan easy enough,’ the corsair said. ‘Though the further north we sail the more treacherous the waters become. Earlier would be better. Hunter’s Moon would be the latest it could be left.’

Nathair nodded.

‘You have been of great service to me thus far, Lykos.’

The Vin Thalun dipped his head.

‘You and your fleet are central to my plans. Already the speed you have gifted me has proved vital.’

‘We can do more than ferry your warriors. We would gladly fight for you, shed our blood for you. We believe in your cause, believe in you.’

Peritus looked at the Vin Thalun, his eyes creasing.

‘I know. And you will have many opportunities to do just that, my friend.’ Nathair looked intently at them all. ‘The Vin Thalun are welcome here, are a valuable ally. We should do what we can to help them, for helping them helps me, us, our cause.’ He stood straight again, focusing on Lykos. ‘How many men can you transport?’

‘Now? Some three thousands, no more.’

‘We will build you ships. Tenebral has vast forests, and I will need to move more than three thousand at a time ere this war is finished. Bring your shipbuilders here, to oversee the work. Together we shall build a fleet.’

‘It shall be done,’ Lykos said, the iron rings in his hair clinking gently as he nodded.

Nathair paced to the window, staring out over the lake and plain.

‘My father expected many to join his alliance, once Midwinter’s Day had passed. That has not happened. Carnutan is in hand now, of course, after the recent events. Gundul I can count on.’

Whilst he benefits from you, thought Veradis.

‘But from the rest — silence. I have sent out riders. I would know where the realms of the Banished Lands stand. If they will not stand with me, then I must consider them against me.’

‘Perhaps Aquilus’ death has troubled them,’ said Peritus.

Nathair frowned. ‘Why should that change anything? My father may be dead, but the alliance should stand — the sun darkened on Midwinter’s Day, did it not?’

‘Aye, my King,’ muttered Peritus.

Nathair looked frustrated. ‘But you are most likely right. The kings of these lands are contrary. Even Romar, who pledged his aid at the council, is sounding hesitant. I have received a parchment from him, asking for a detailed explanation of the events around my father’s death. He even expressed, what was it. .?’ He rummaged on the table they were seated around, pulling out a rolled parchment. ‘Ah, yes. He expressed his disappointment, regarding Mandros’ death before a trial.’ Nathair screwed the parchment up, threw it on the floor and returned to the window. ‘We shall do what we can, prepare for war. Then we shall do what we must.’

A silence settled upon the room, growing until it seemed Nathair had forgotten they were there. Peritus shifted in his chair, a leg scraping. Nathair blinked, movement beyond the window catching his gaze.

‘A rider has just passed through our gates. One of the messengers I have been speaking of, I think. Peritus. Go, see what news he brings.’

Peritus rose and left without a word.

Nathair returned to the table.

‘My friends,’ he said, ‘you four shall be my inner circle, those that I trust without question. Others will be useful.’ He glanced at the door where Peritus had just departed, ‘But none do I trust as I trust you.’ He bowed his head, and looked troubled. ‘Elyon speaks to me. I dream, almost every night now. I must find the cauldron. I have been told it is vital to our cause — a weapon. Can you help me?’

‘In any way I can, my lord,’ Lykos said. ‘You have only to ask and I will attempt it.’

Nathair nodded. ‘I know, I know. There is much I must accomplish. I feel the burden of it keenly.’

‘I can be of some help regarding the cauldron you speak of. I have information,’ said Calidus.

Veradis looked at the old counsellor. It was still hard to believe this man was one of the Ben-Elim, the sons of the mighty, angelic warriors of Elyon. He understood why Calidus maintained the secrecy of his identity, but he longed for the day when the ancient warrior would reveal himself. And he had wings. .

Nathair brightened and sat straighter in his chair. ‘Tell me.’

‘I have gathered some knowledge of this cauldron. Many, many generations ago, before the Scourging, a star fell from the sky. The giant clans were different, then, less warlike. They forged things from this stone. You may have heard tales of the seven Treasures.’

‘Aye, of course,’ said Nathair, and Veradis nodded agreement.

‘Well, it would seem there is some truth in those tales, is there not, Alcyon?’

‘Aye,’ said the giant. ‘Before the clans came to be, there was but one clan. My ancient kin lived in the north-east, beyond Forn Forest. Seven Treasures are remembered amongst the loremasters, which were said to be forged from the starstone during that time: spear, axe, knife, torc, cup, necklace, cauldron. .’

Veradis twisted in his chair, staring at Alcyon.

‘Where? Where is it?’ Nathair hissed.

‘The Treasures were scattered,’ Alcyon said, shrugging his huge shoulders. ‘When the Sundering happened, when the one clan became many, there was a great exodus from the north. The Treasures were taken; wars were fought over them. Most were lost, or the knowledge of them was lost. So the tales say, at least.’

‘I have received word that the cauldron is in Murias, a fortress of the Benothi giant clan,’ Calidus said. ‘I believe it is reliable.’

‘Murias,’ muttered Nathair. ‘ That is a long, long way to march a warband, even to sail one. We need clear passage through the realms between here and there.’ He looked at a scroll on the table, held open with weights at each end, traced a line with his finger: ‘Helveth, Carnutan, Isiltir, Ardan, Narvon, Cambren — all lie between here and Murias.’

‘Carnutan, as you say, is dealt with,’ Veradis said. ‘And most of the others are those that have been promised aid. Surely we can use that.’

‘Yes. Very good, Veradis. We will help these realms, do what we must to ensure our voice is heard by those in power.’ Nathair frowned. ‘I do not like relying on others’ goodwill, though. As I said to my father, these alliances are fragile. An empire would be more practical, would it not?’

‘Your will be done,’ Lykos and Calidus said together, just above a whisper.

‘Why not declare yourself now?’ Veradis asked. He had heard Nathair mention empire before, but always felt uneasy, somehow. Now, though, after the campaign against Mandros, seeing the way the kings of the Banished Lands schemed, it was beginning to make more sense in his mind. ‘Strike your banners, and see who stands with you.’

Nathair grinned. ‘I thought you were the cautious one.’

Veradis snorted. ‘Was.’

‘Not yet,’ Calidus said. ‘Declaring your true identity will bring your enemies down upon you, I suspect, and travelling halfway across the Banished Lands, through countless other realms, will be like a lodestone to them. It is too dangerous. Best to wait, find this cauldron, this weapon, and return it to Tenebral. Then declare yourself.’

Nathair leaned back in his chair, tapping fingers on its arm. ‘Good. I shall do as you advise. The way forward is becoming clearer to me. Two other things are in my mind.’ He held one finger up. ‘The Jehar swordsmasters, the ones that left Telassar so many years ago. Where are they?’ He looked at Calidus.

‘I do not know,’ Calidus said, bowing his head. ‘My sources, thus far, have found no word of them.’

‘It is a matter of great importance to me, Calidus. I must know where they went, and why.’

‘Aye. I will not fail you.’

‘I know that, my friend.’ He patted Calidus’ shoulder. ‘And the second matter.’ Nathair held up another finger. ‘Meical: my father’s counsellor. He fled when my father died. I want him found.’

‘Ah, now there I have some news,’ Calidus said, grinning.

‘Really?’ Nathair raised an eyebrow.

‘Only today, I have received information. Reliable information. Meical has been seen at Dun Carreg. In Ardan.’

‘Dun Carreg. That is King Brenin’s stronghold, is it not?’

‘Aye.’

‘Hmm,’ Nathair muttered. ‘That is very interesting. And it is a good deal closer to Murias than we are here.’

‘What are you thinking, Nathair?’ Veradis asked.

‘Perhaps I should lead those that I send to aid Brenin, find out why my father’s counsellor felt the need to visit him. And also to position myself within striking distance of Murias, with a warband about me.’

Suddenly the sound of horns blaring drifted through the unshuttered window. Nathair moved quickly to it, Veradis and the others following.

In the distance, on the edges of the plain, a dark shadow was growing, a cloud of dust above it, moving slowly closer. The faint rumble of hooves drifted up to them.

‘What?’ said Veradis.

‘Come, to the walls,’ said Nathair.

Soon they were climbing the battlement stairwell by the fortress’ great gates. Veradis vaulted the steps, two at a time, breathing heavily by the time he reached the top. Warriors were gathered there, watching grimly to see who approached.

The host on the plain was closer now, not far beyond the lake village. The top of the stockaded wall of the settlement was now thick with people.

Sunlight glinted off spear-tips borne by the oncoming riders. A dust cloud hovered above them and the drumming of hooves rumbled thunderously. There were too many to count, but the host was at least a thousand strong. Veradis stared, straining his eyes, but could see no banner or markings that declared their identity.

Suddenly, as the host began to climb the gentle slope to the fortress, Veradis recognized them.

The Jehar had come.

‘Veradis, Alcyon, with me,’ Nathair commanded as he headed for the courtyard.

Nathair ordered the gates be opened and strode through with Veradis one side of him, Alcyon the other.

One man rode at the head of the Jehar, black hair tied back just as Veradis had seen him before. But this time he was dressed for war, in a black leather cuirass over a long coat of dark iron mail.

Sumur, Lord of the Jehar.

Veradis scanned the ranks behind him, saw both men and women amongst the host, all with their long, curved swords slung across their backs. Something struck him as different.

They have no shields, he suddenly realized.

Sumur raised a hand, reined in his mount, and the host behind him drew to a gradual halt, and silence descended.

Somewhere above a hawk screeched.

Gracefully Sumur slid from his saddle and stepped forward as the entire host dismounted.

‘Nathair of Tenebral,’ Sumur said as he approached, stopping a few paces before the King. ‘I have come as I said I would, bringing the power of the Jehar with me.’ He looked up at the battlements of Jerolin, packed tight with warriors, then back to Nathair.

In a loud voice he called out, ‘Nathair, we pledge ourselves to you, the Seren Disglair. We, the Jehar, shall be your avenging hand.’

He dropped to one knee and bowed his head. With a great cry the entire host behind him did the same.