Valour

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

FIDELE

Fidele sipped from a cup of wine. She was in Lamar’s chambers at the top of his tower in Ripa. There was a wide window dominating the wall opposite, giving an extensive view of the bay, and her eyes kept being drawn to the sea, the hypnotic swell and roll of waves.

Others were sitting at the table with her: Lamar, Baron of Ripa, and his two sons, Krelis and Ektor. Two more disparate brothers she could not imagine: Krelis larger than life in every way, physically almost a giant, but with a great warmth to him. She imagined that he could love and hate with equal passion. And Ektor, quiet, introverted, pale skinned, almost withered looking, yet with a fierce intellect. Her thoughts drifted to Lamar’s third son, and first-sword to her own son, Nathair — the loyal Veradis. He is somewhere in between these two: physical, a warrior, like Krelis, but quiet, reserved, like Ektor. She was glad Veradis served her son. His loyalty was beyond doubt, something solid to cling to in these turbulent times.

Peritus sat beside her, fingers drumming on the table, and Orcus her loyal shadow stood behind her.

‘So what will we do about the Vin Thalun?’ Peritus said.

Always it comes back to this, no matter where the conversation leads.

‘I have told you. The men involved have been punished. There is little more to do now, except wait for Lykos to return. Then I shall speak with him.’

‘Like you spoke to him before?’

She felt a flare of anger but suppressed it. Peritus was struggling with so much change. Struggling with the death of Aquilus, with Vin Thalun wandering Tenebral, with Nathair’s new ways, especially his new techniques of fighting. The shield wall was a particular thorn in Peritus’ flesh. But change had come to them, whether they liked it or not. It was swim or be drowned. She looked hard at Peritus. He looks like a drowning man. Nevertheless, an insult was an insult. If Peritus had spoken to her so in private she would have overlooked it, for friendship’s sake. But not in front of Lamar and his children.

‘If you dare speak to me in such a way again I will have you sent back to the ranks,’ she said, coldly. Peritus looked away, blushing, mumbling an apology.

‘The Vin Thalun have learned a lesson from you,’ Lamar said in his deep voice. ‘Learned that you are not to be disobeyed.’

‘Or learned to hide their disobedience better,’ Ektor added.

It is time to change the subject. ‘How go your preparations for the coming war?’ Fidele asked.

‘Well enough,’ Lamar said. ‘My warband is ready, and I have gathered every able-bodied man to me.’

‘And your warband’s training? I am asking of Nathair’s new methods. He sent men to aid you in learning the shield wall.’

‘Aye, he did,’ Krelis said. ‘I’ll speak plainly, as I know no other way.’

‘Please do,’ Fidele said.

‘My men are learning it, but most of them don’t like it. The older ones especially. It goes against our ways, against generations of learning. It feels dishonourable.’

Fidele sighed. All over she had heard the same complaints. But it was Nathair’s order, and he was king. And, besides, by all accounts it was devastatingly effective.

‘It works,’ Fidele said. ‘Peritus saw the shield wall first-hand, led by Veradis. Tell them.’

Peritus sat up straighter. ‘Veradis led the van against Mandros in Carnutan. We were ambushed whilst fording a river. He and his warband formed the shield wall, knee-deep in the river, and carved a way through two thousand men, almost to Mandros himself.’

Fidele watched their faces as Peritus spoke. Lamar tensed, a tightening around his eyes and lips. Why? Is there some grievance between Lamar and Veradis? If so I have not heard of it. Krelis beamed with pride. Ektor showed nothing, whether through self-control or lack of interest, she could not tell.

‘And you followed with your warband, did you not?’ Fidele said.

‘I did.’

‘And how many men of yours died in the battle?’

‘Around five hundred.’

‘And from Veradis’ shield wall?’

‘Fewer than thirty.’

Lamar raised an eyebrow; Krelis blew out a long breath.

‘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.’