Malice (24 page)

‘Aye. One I’ve never seen before.’

‘These are the times for strange sights, it would seem. Judging by today’s council,’ Kastell said.

Veradis smiled. ‘I saw you in the practice court yesterday. It would have gone the worse for you without that well-timed knee below the belt.’

‘I did not mean for that to happen,’ said the big youth, scowling.

‘It was well done, I would say,’ Veradis replied, and Maquin grunted an agreement. ‘Your opponent – he had it coming. He may not be so quick to laugh at you next time.’

‘Maybe. Maybe I have made things worse.’

‘How so?’

Kastell was silent.

‘His opponent was Jael, nephew of Romar, Isiltir’s King,’ Maquin said.

’Jael is my cousin,’ Kastell said. ‘His reputation in my homeland is not for forgiveness. I should not have struck him as I did. And especially not in front of such an audience.’

‘Long overdue, though,’ growled Maquin, and Veradis laughed.

‘You should stay out of things,’ Kastell said to Maquin with a scowl, ‘otherwise Jael will mark you as well.’

‘When you were six years old I carried you to Romar on my saddle. I have been your shieldman longer still. I think Jael already has me marked,’ Maquin said.

‘Aye, well, you should still be more careful. It is better not to catch Jael’s eye.’

‘Wise words from the man that kicked him in the knackers.’

Veradis laughed.

‘Don’t encourage him,’ Kastell said. ‘And just because you are a giantkiller now, it doesn’t make you invincible,’ he added to Maquin.

Veradis held his hands up. ‘I did not want to start a disagreement. Only to say that I thought you fought well.’

Kastell nodded and smiled.

‘And it seems there are some tales worth listening to here,’ Veradis added. ‘Giantkiller?’

‘It was a lucky throw,’ the old warrior said. ‘Kastell could see the colour of the eyes of the giant he killed.’

‘Oh-ho,
two
giantkillers. This must be a tale indeed.’

The boy on the ground whimpered.

‘Another time,’ said Maquin. ‘Find us at the feast tonight and we’ll share a jug. But now we’d better get this lad back to his kin.’

The two warriors carried the boy from the glade. Veradis studied his arms, grimacing at the mass of cuts and drying blood, then went to find Nathair.

The Prince was still at the front of the crowd, crouched in the grass, as engrossed in the macabre procession before him as when Veradis had left.

Suddenly the end of the marching column appeared, the insects receding from the far side of the glade as if a long rug were being rolled up.

Veradis watched silently as the crowd left the forest glade, until he and Nathair were the only two left.

The ants had flattened the ground they had marched over, leaving the impression of a wide, oft-walked path. All that remained of the dog was a mass of torn bloodied fur and bone.

‘They eat as they march,’ said Nathair, watching Veradis. ‘Amazing. Quite amazing. Did you see them, Veradis, the ants? How they overpowered something so many times their size and strength?’

‘I did,’ said Veradis, shivering at the memory.

‘We could learn from them,’ Nathair whispered.

‘What do you mean?’

‘When we go into battle we fight warrior against warrior, sometimes with shield-brother, but often without. Our wars are like a thousand duels on a battlefield, all happening at once.’

‘Aye. It is the way it has always been done.’

‘But what if we fought like the
ants
, Veradis, as one body, all aiding each other?’ He paused. ‘We would be unstoppable.’

Grease dripped down Veradis’ chin as he bit into a thick slice of meat. He was sitting at one of many long tables that had been set up in the practice court outside the keep. The night was warm, a half-moon and stars shining down from a cloudless sky. He had searched out Kastell and Maquin and shared a jar of wine with them. They had been good company, though King Romar had called them away early. Now his brother-in-arms Rauca was sitting next to him, trying to talk and gnaw on a rack of ribs at the same time. Veradis was not really listening. He was thinking about Nathair and events since the council had ended.

Rauca slapped Veradis on the shoulder and pointed to the open doorway of the keep. Prince Nathair was standing there, dressed in black with the eagle of Tenebral carved on a leather cuirass. He caught Veradis’ eye and beckoned to him.

‘Are you well?’ Veradis asked him.

‘Aye, my friend. My apologies for my mood earlier. I love my father, I just do not understand some of his decisions. I have thought on what you said, though, and you are right. We must trust our king; but I will not sit idly by and watch while all he has worked for turns to ashes. I must work to further his cause, and indeed my own, for I will be king after him, will I not?’

‘Aye, Nathair. Of course.’

‘Then come, let us play the game that is before us,’ he said, flashing a smile.

Nathair led him into the courtyard, singling out kings and barons, methodically speaking with them all. Nathair was courteous and friendly to all, whether they had agreed to ally themselves to Aquilus or not, talking to them of their concerns with the alliance, and also about their own worries within their realms. Mandros of Carnutan was one of a few who refused to be charmed by Nathair, so the Prince instead turned to Mandros’ son, Gundul, a round-faced youth who laughed loudly at all of Nathair’s jokes. The Prince invited many out hunting with him the following day. Gundul agreed, as did a handful of others – including Jael, who had fought Kastell in the practice court.

He is made to be king
, Veradis thought as he watched Nathair throughout the evening, charming, interested and knowledgeable in all subjects.

As the night grew late, and some were beginning to head to their beds, Nathair led Veradis towards a royal group gathered in the gardens that bordered the weapons court. Veradis recognized Brenin of Ardan, along with Rhin and Owain.

Brenin gripped Nathair’s arm, and Veradis noted his muscular build.
Not a soft king, like so many of these others
, he thought. He nodded a greeting to Tull, the King’s first sword.

The ageing warrior smiled at him. ‘How is your friend, Rauca?’ he leaned over and whispered.

‘He is well, although his knuckles are still bruised, no doubt.’

Tull laughed. ‘He fights well, but you don’t get to live as long as I have without learning to use this.’ He tapped a finger against his temple.

Veradis smiled, liking the old warrior.

‘This is Heb, my reluctant loremaster,’ King Brenin said, gesturing at the spidery old man behind him.

‘Reluctant?’ said Nathair.

‘Oh, it’s nothing personal,’ Heb said. ‘I like Brenin well enough, I just like the pleasures of my hearth more. And I hate long journeys.’

Veradis coughed to cover his laughter.

‘Ignore him; he lies,’ Brenin said. ‘I would have had to tie him down to keep him away. He’s far too inquisitive to have stayed in Ardan.’

Nathair took Rhin’s hand and kissed it. Her skin was mottled, papery thin, blue veins standing proud. ‘You look beautiful, my lady.’

‘Flatterer,’ Rhin said, though she smiled warmly, the flickering torchlight turning her lined face into a place of dark gullies.

‘I speak the truth as I see it.’

‘Really? A dangerous practice for a prince. If I were ugly, would you have told me so?’

‘No,’ Nathair grinned. ‘I would have focused on some other virtue.’

‘If you could find one.’

‘All have something worthy about them, if you look hard enough.’

‘Well said,’ Rhin smiled. ‘Keep looking for my virtues and I think you and I shall get along very well.’

‘Please, Rhin, stop playing with the boy.’ Owain spoke now, the King of Narvon. He was a dark-haired, sharp-featured man, his smile showing little warmth. His realm bordered both Rhin’s and Brenin’s, if Veradis remembered his maps right.

‘I don’t play at anything,’ Rhin said, her eyes fixed on Nathair. ‘Besides, he is doing very well for himself. So far.’

Veradis decided he did not like this Rhin. There was something predatory about her, about the way she looked at Nathair.
That’s not right. She’s so old.

‘Careful, Nathair, you are swimming in dangerous waters here,’ Owain said, draining his cup. ‘Before you know it, Rhin will sweep you away and have you handbound.’

‘Hardly,’ Rhin snorted. ‘Variety is what keeps me young. Though for the right man . . .’ She smiled.

‘And how do things stand in your homeland?’ Nathair asked her, his neck flushing red.

‘Well enough,’ Rhin laughed. ‘As most of the realms that border my lands are ruled by one relative or another, so times are stable. A little dull, but stable. Apart from the giants in the north, of course. They are always determined to test my warriors’ mettle. Still,’ she turned to her champion, ‘I am never in danger, even when the giants are feeling more ferocious, not while I have Morcant here to guard me.’ She ran a long white finger down the curve of his cheek. He smiled back at her. Something about the gesture made Veradis blush.

‘If what we heard in the council today is true, it will take more than one man’s blade to keep you safe,’ Nathair said. ‘I must confess, I had hoped to see more support my father.’ Nathair looked at Rhin and Owain. ‘I do not remember seeing either of you stand today.’

‘That is because I did not,’ Rhin said. ‘I am old, Nathair, and there are lessons that age has taught me. One is that rushing is overrated. Much of what your father said strikes a chord in me, but I am not yet convinced. Also, I felt a little unsure, shall we say, of your father’s counsellor and his findings. There is something unsettling about him.’ She smiled, brushing a strand of white hair out of her face.

‘I am not the most trusting of people – one of my faults, I fear – but I find it hard to take the word of one man on such claims. So I shall wait, see what Midwinter’s Day brings us. Besides,’ she added, ‘all of this talk of Gods and demons, maybe we do not need to look so far afield for conflict and war. There are those here that would be better served paying more attention to what goes on in their own realms, instead of wishing faery tales come to life.’

She’s a clever one
, Veradis thought.
Who was that intended for? Brenin, Owain, Nathair. All?

Brenin raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Heb smiled, as if watching an entertaining game.

‘Please, speak plainly,’ Owain said. ‘I have drunk too much wine to untangle your riddles.’

Rhin clucked her tongue. ‘No tact, Owain. I am sure Brenin will explain it to you.’

Brenin chuckled. ‘Leave me out of this.’

‘Very well. Speaking plainly, I have heard that you both have had troubles of late.’

‘Aye, true enough,’ said Brenin. ‘Lawless men, striking out from the Darkwood. Braith is at the heart of it with his band of outlaws, I believe, though I have not the proof yet. I hope it will be waiting for me when I return.’

‘It is the same for me,’ Owain grunted. ‘All along the border of the Darkwood I am raided.’

‘Maybe this alliance is the answer for you both, then,’ Rhin said. ‘Perhaps working together, and with King Aquilus’ help you could deal with these lawless men.’

‘I am capable of keeping my own lands safe,’ Owain snapped.

‘Really? And yet you are here, while your lands are raided, robbed. As are you Brenin.’

‘Ever the same, Rhin,’ Brenin said, shaking his head. ‘You will not bait me, try as you might. I will not be part of your amusements.’ With that he strode away, Heb close behind him. Tull nodded at Rhin’s champion, then followed his King, winking at Veradis as he passed him by.

Soon the Prince excused himself, taking Veradis in search of wine.

‘Dry work, this politicking,’ Nathair said as they drained their cups.

‘I am thirsty just listening to it,’ Veradis said.

‘What do you think?’ Nathair asked.

Veradis shrugged. ‘I do not know. In truth, Nathair, much of this talk bores me. I will gladly follow you around such gatherings, but only so that I know you have a sword to guard your back.’

Nathair laughed. ‘You are a tonic to me, Veradis, amidst all this guile and bickering and these guarded words. But since you will not tell me what you think, let me tell you what
I
think, O sword that guards my back.’ He bowed low.

‘The kings of the Banished Lands are like children. They squabble and they swagger, but they will not stand together. My father is deceived by the dreams of his heart. He cannot forge an alliance here that will last. It is a fraying rope that will break when pulled tight, after tonight of that I am certain.’

‘Then how will we stand against this Black Sun when he comes?’ said Veradis.

Nathair looked about him, but they were far from anyone. Nevertheless he lowered his voice.

‘Empire . . .’ he breathed. ‘There must be an empire. This land needs to be united and strong if we are to be ready when Asroth comes. That will never happen while the Banished Lands are governed by a score of bickering children. An empire, with an army such as the ants we saw, that fights together as one to defeat any foe in its way. I will make Father see this truth. Out of the ashes of his old dream a new one shall be born, and I will give my life to see it come to pass.’