Valour

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

CORBAN

Corban had lost track of time, his world contracted to the ground before him, the burn in his lungs and legs, the shadows of his companions about him.

How long have we been running?

It was still dark; the only light was the burning torches that had been hastily fashioned from branches back in the dell where the wolven attacked them.

Dawn cannot be far off. Shapes were starting to emerge from the darkness, boulders, steep rocky cliffs to either side of the narrow path they were travelling.

In front of him Farrell stumbled, still carrying his da’s body. Corban grabbed Farrell’s belt, steadying him.

Heb and Brina dropped back, Heb looking at Farrell.

‘You should lay him down,’ Heb said.

‘No,’ Farrell grunted. ‘I’ll not leave him for his bones to be picked by scavengers.’

‘He would not want you to die on his account.’

‘I’ll not be dying yet,’ Farrell breathed, sweat dripping from his nose.

‘I think-’ Heb said, but Brina interrupted him.

‘Less thinking, more shutting up. Leave him be.’

‘She loves me really.’ Heb winked at Corban.

‘What you did in the dell,’ Corban said to Brina and Heb. ‘You saved us all. It was amazing. I never imagined what you could do.’

‘Neither did we,’ Heb said. ‘Never done anything remotely close. Blind terror is a good motivator.’

There was a fluttering of wings above — Craf swooping down to perch on Brina’s shoulder.

‘Wolven,’ the bird croaked loudly, sending a tremor of fear running through Corban.

‘Where,’ Brina managed to ask through her laboured breaths.

‘Above.’

Corban looked up: sheer cliffs disappeared into the darkness. They are up there, then, hunting us. The slopes must be too high, too steep for them to attack us. Yet.

‘What shall we do?’ he gasped to Camlin, who still ran rearguard behind him.

‘Keep running,’ the huntsman said, eyes searching upwards. A handful of stones came skittering down the cliff. Corban saw Camlin loosen an arrow from the quiver at his belt.

Dawn gradually crept over them, unveiling a grey, steep-sided land. At some point during the night Corban had noticed their path had levelled off; now it began to slope downwards and their pace picked up. Suddenly they spilt out of the path onto a hillside with pine trees covering the slopes only a few hundred paces below them. Beyond that wooded hills rolled into a green land.

‘Domhain,’ Halion said.

Storm growled and Craf squawked urgently from overhead. Corban looked back and up, seeing wolven high above, outlined by the sun.

One leaped down a sloping escarpment, sliding on gravel, then a pack behind — five, six — Corban could not tell how many. All that he was sure of was that they were coming fast.

‘Run, to the trees,’ Camlin yelled, pushing Corban on. ‘Turn and face them there.’

All of them ran on, except Dath and Corban, Storm snarling beside him. Camlin drew an arrow to his cheek and let fly; seconds later Dath’s bowstring thrummed. The first wolven on the slope tumbled and rolled, sending gravel cascading. It came to a stop and did not move. The other wolven surged past it, much closer now.

‘Run,’ Camlin yelled again as he turned and dashed towards Corban, dragging Dath with him.

Corban needed no more encouragement: he turned and ran with the rest of them, pounding down the slope. The group started to disappear into the treeline, Farrell last of all. Moments later, branches were whipping across Corban’s face, bodies jostling all about. A glance back showed the wolven still powering down the escarpment.

They drew up, breathing hard.

‘Can you make the fire again?’ Edana asked Brina and Heb, the first spoken acknowledgement of how they had been saved.

‘Yes. I think so,’ Heb said. He was breathing hard, pale faced, blood congealed from a wound on his arm.

‘There’s no guarantee,’ Brina added. ‘We’ll try.’

Something rustled in a bush, sending them all reaching for their weapons. A bundle of black feathers fell out of it. A bird with a dagger sticking from its wing. Craf flew down from above, head cocking to one side as he studied this new bird.

Vonn reached a hand forward to touch it.

‘Get off, the bird said, clear to them all. Vonn jumped back.

Craf squawked. Brina ripped off a section of her cloak and threw it over the bird. It croaked a protest as Brina bundled it up into her arms.

‘Can’t just leave a talking bird lying around,’ she said, and with a quick movement pulled the knife from the bird’s wing.

Storm looked back, growling, her hackles rising.

‘They’re coming!’ a voice shouted from behind. Gar. He stood beside Camlin at the rear of the column, looking back, hand on the sword still sheathed across his back.

‘Face them here?’ Edana said to Camlin.

‘Deeper into the trees, break their charge. That way.’ Camlin ran, the rest of them following fast.

All other sounds were filtered, distorted through the pounding of Corban’s heart. They burst into a wide glade, voices from the front of their group shouting in exclamation, those ahead of him stumbling to a halt. The bulk of Farrell moved from in front of him, giving Corban a view of what was before them.

Figures stood at the glade’s far side, beneath the trees, five or six of them, maybe more. They looked like men, but were larger.

Giants.

They were wrapped in fur and leather and for a moment just stood there staring. Then Corban saw them pull axes and hammers from their backs, some of them striding forwards. One came straight at Corban.

Storm leaped at him, burying her fangs in the giant’s head, her momentum carrying her body over the giant’s shoulder, flipping him with her.

Corban drew his sword, eyes searching for his mam. She was to the side, close to Halion and Edana.

A giant swung his hammer at Vonn. He dived for safety but the hammer clipped his ankle, sending him careening into Brina. Farrell stepped forwards, his own hammer whistling about his head, crunching into the giant’s hip.

The other giants bellowed war cries and came rushing forward. Then there was a crashing from behind Corban, the sound of bodies speeding through the undergrowth, and he remembered the wolven.

They burst into the glade, one leaping at the first form it saw, a giant. It sank its teeth into the giant’s shoulder. Another skidded to a halt, colliding with a bunch of figures — Corban saw Edana spinning through the air, then he heard his mam scream. She was tumbling across the ground, entwined with the wolven.

He yelled wordlessly and ran after them.