Malice (39 page)

‘Who are you?’ Nathair whispered, ‘that my father trusts you so?’

Meical returned his attentions to his horse, lifting a saddle onto the animal’s back. A dismissal.

A shiver ran through Nathair, then he turned and walked away. Veradis’ eyes lingered on Meical, who returned the gaze, unblinking. Veradis was the first to look away. Quickly he followed his Prince from the stables.

He caught up with Nathair as he entered the keep. Veradis felt he had come to know Nathair well, and there were times to ask questions of him. Looking at his face, this was not one of them. They climbed a staircase and passed into a short corridor, heavy tapestries stirring in their wake.

Nathair rapped his knuckles on a wooden door and pushed it open, not waiting for an answer.

King Aquilus was within, sitting on a carved oak chair. Peritus, his battlechief, stood before him. Fidele was there also, half-clothed in shadow as she gazed out of a narrow window. ‘Father, you sent for me. Mother,’ he added with a glance to the Queen.

Fidele smiled.

‘Peritus has returned to us,’ the King said.

‘I would speak with you both. Of the way ahead.’ He smiled at Veradis. ‘You have become my son’s shadow, so much so that I almost forget you are here, Veradis ben Lamar.’ Veradis returned the smile, liking the sound of his words. ‘I am sure I do not have to remind you that the things we talk of remain between us only.’

Veradis nodded.

‘Good. Now, Peritus, tell us of your journey.’

Peritus was a slight man, dark haired, thinning on the crown, with sun-darkened skin. Despite his size, Veradis knew he carried a fierce reputation. The hem of his cloak was dark with mud, as were his boots, his clothes dusty and travel stained.

‘I have travelled the northern borderlands, stopping longest at Baran,’ Peritus said. ‘Marcellin was a good host, as always. He bids me tell you his oath stands till death, and that your will is his.’

‘Good,’ said Aquilus.

‘The rest of my journey was much the same. All of the barons that I spoke with pledged their loyalty to you and your cause.’

Aquilus nodded slowly, then looked to Nathair. ‘And you, my son, for Peritus’ benefit, tell us of your journey.’

‘My tale is much the same as Peritus’, as you know. Lamar of Ripa agreed to prepare for war and renewed his oaths to you. The barons that I met with, well, they are more concerned with crops, weather, the extension of their lands, and lawless men, but their oaths to you stand. They will come at your call. Tenebral stands united behind you.’

‘That is as it should be. But we must not sit idly by and just wait for Midwinter’s Day. Many will join us then, I am sure. Though not all.’ Aquilus stood, and began to pace around the room.

The King’s eyes were sunken and dark, and Veradis noticed much more grey in his cropped hair and beard.
He carries a great burden
.

‘Asroth’s champion is a mystery to us,’ Aquilus continued. ‘Who is he? Where? We know not, so we must do all that we can in the time that is left to us. Nathair, how does your warband fare?’

‘Well, Father. They train hard, every day. Numbers are growing.’ Nathair looked to Veradis. ‘How many?’

‘Just short of a thousand strong.’

Aquilus’ eyes widened. He laughed and slapped Nathair’s shoulder. ‘Well done, my son. You have taken my words seriously.’

‘Aye.’

‘It is no wonder our barns are emptying quickly. No matter. But we must find work for them to do, to earn their keep and to cut their teeth.’

‘Tenebral is as peaceful as I have ever seen it,’ said Peritus.

‘Aye, that is so. Particularly as the Vin Thalun have kept their agreement within our borders.’ Aquilus’ eyes flickered to Nathair. ‘So we must look elsewhere to give your men some experience of combat.’

‘What do you mean, Father?’

‘The alliance that was forged in the council. There were only a handful that stood with us outright, but already I have had requests for aid from Braster of Helveth, Romar of Isiltir and Rahim of Tarbesh. Brenin of Ardan spoke to me of trouble on his border. I think he would welcome help,’ said the King.

‘Braster and Romar share a border with each other, marked by Forn Forest. They have agreed to join forces in crushing the Hunen, a giant clan that lives within. They have asked me to be a part of their endeavour, to send men to aid them. I am of a mind to do so.’

‘When would this happen?’ asked Nathair.

‘Not this year. Next spring, most likely. And Brenin’s realm is not much further than Isiltir, so we could send a warband and then split it. One to fight against these giants in Forn Forest, one to help Brenin against the lawless men that trouble his border.’

‘Trouble lurks in the dark places,’ Peritus muttered.

‘So it would seem,’ said Aquilus.

‘And King Rahim of Tarbesh?’ asked Nathair.

‘He, too is having trouble with the remnants of a giant clan. There is a band of land stretching across his kingdom that has become too dangerous to cross. No forests, though,’ he smiled at Peritus.

‘And when would you send aid to Rahim?’ Nathair persisted.

‘Perhaps this year,’ Aquilus said, tugging gently at his short beard. ‘Perhaps soon. Their land is to the south-east, much of it desert, so winter would not hinder our warriors as it would in a northern campaign.’

‘I would be proud to lead men to Tarbesh, to represent you, to further the alliance and our cause,’ Nathair said eagerly.

‘It is a strange land, I have heard,’ Aquilus said. ‘Blistering heat in the day, nights of bitter cold. I was thinking to send a more experienced warband to Tarbesh, with men who have sat a campaign before. I thought to send you north come spring, Nathair, to Isiltir.’

‘Do you doubt me? Do you doubt my men? We are more than equal to the task,’ said Nathair.

Aquilus looked at him searchingly, then shifted his gaze to Peritus. ‘Perhaps. I will meet with your men, watch your training, of which I have heard much.’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘Then I will decide.’

Nathair bowed his head. ‘As you wish.’

‘Peritus,’ said Aquilus, ‘you still carry the dust of your journey. Please, relax this day. Join me on the morrow. We shall view my son’s warband together.’

‘As you wish,’ said the battlechief and, with a nod to Nathair, left the room.

‘Nathair, there is another matter that I would speak of with you.’ The King frowned. ‘A messenger came this morning from our border with Carnutan. He had interesting news. There have been more raids, by the Vin Thalun.’

Nathair said nothing.

‘Over the last moon the Van Thalun have caused more death and destruction than ever before.’

‘What of it, Father?’ Nathair said with a shrug. ‘They have kept their word to us. No raids have taken place within our borders.’

‘Aye, true.’ The King took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. ‘But the Vin Thalun are raiding as far west as Carnutan. That has
never
happened before.’ The King’s fingers tapped on the arm of his chair, the room otherwise quiet and still.

‘If you looked hard enough, you could almost see a pattern emerging here,’ Aquilus continued. ‘The lands raided during the last moon: only Carnutan, a realm that opposed me in the council, and Mandros of Carnutan louder than most. And what of Tarbesh? A realm that stood with me in the council, but that has oft been raided by the Vin Thalun in the past –
nothing
!’ Aquilus stood suddenly. ‘Tell me true, son. Have you played a part in this?’

Father and son stared at each other.

‘Nay,’ said Nathair eventually, holding Aquilus’ gaze. The King sighed, looked away, the tension dissipating.

‘Good. That is good. But if I have thought of this, others will not be far behind. Mandros most certainly; he mistrusts all at the best of times, and it is no secret that you have championed the Vin Thalun and our treaty with them.
They
could be trying to sow discord here, to undermine the alliance before it truly begins.’

‘Surely not, Father.’

‘In the past I would have agreed with you, but their new leader, this Lykos. I have heard troubling things of him. It was quite a feat of itself to unite the islands, eh? Panos, Nerin and Pelset were always a thorn in the side of the mainland kingdoms, but no more than that. Now that they work together, they are capable of considerably more.’

Veradis was growing increasingly uncomfortable. He knew that things had been hidden from Aquilus, but lying outright was a greater step. He swallowed.
It is for the greater good
, he told himself. His eyes touched on Fidele. She was watching Nathair intently,
studying
him.

‘Father, why is it that you care so much about the opinions of such as Mandros. They are beneath you. We do not need him, or any like him.
We
are the instrument of Elyon’s justice.
We
will take the war to Asroth, and the likes of Mandros will matter not at all.’

Aquilus shook his head. ‘Nathair, you are young, your principles fixed, but you have much to learn of politicking. You still possess the naivety of youth. And the pride.’ He sighed. ‘Asroth’s champion, this
Black Sun
, will not be some mountain brigand that can be swept aside in a day’s combat. We must marshal all of the strength available before he reveals himself. We
need
the likes of Mandros.
Every
realm that does not stand with us will most likely stand
against
us.’

Nathair snorted. ‘I do not agree, Father. Mandros and his ilk are more trouble than they are worth. I have a
feeling
about Mandros: he is
wrong
, somehow. Have you considered that he could be in league with this Black Sun? Could even
be
him. Asroth is cunning incarnate, the tales tell us – he would not be likely to let you raise this alliance unhindered.’

‘You are not
listening
to me,’ Aquilus pounded the arm of his chair. Then his voice dropped. ‘I am not so interested in your
agreement
or your
theories
. It is your
loyalty
that concerns me. I will not have you opposing me thus at every turn. I am king, Nathair, and my word is law. Remember that.’ He now looked weary, bowed his head and walked to the open window beside his wife. ‘And my word on
this
matter is that you will distance yourself from the Vin Thalun. I do not want you linked to them, in any way. Is that clear to you?’ Nathair’s shoulders tensed. ‘Aye, Father. Your will is clear to me.’ Aquilus grunted. ‘That is all. I will see you on the morrow.’

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

CORBAN

Corban grunted as Gar’s practice sword cracked his knuckles, his weapon dropping into the hard-packed dirt of the stable.

‘What’s wrong with you?’ Gar asked as Corban bent to retrieve it.

‘Nothing,’ muttered Corban, wincing as he flexed his hand. The knuckles were red and already swelling. He grimaced. In truth there was much wrong. He had slept little, wondering all night if he had done the right thing, allowing the brigands just to walk away. Cywen had made her thoughts on the matter clear before Braith and his companions had even disappeared from view, scolding him for a fool. But what else could he have done? Died a warrior’s death, yes, but Cywen and Marrock would have done so too, and the outcome would have been the same: the brigands slinking off into the darkness. They had talked about going straight to King Brenin, or their mam and da, but eventually decided against it. Telling any adult would most likely result in the alarm being raised and Marrock being executed. He did not doubt for a moment that Braith would do it. At least this way there was a chance that Marrock would live.

He sighed, gripped his practice sword and faced Gar again. Trying to clear his mind, he inhaled deeply, held his breath, feeling pressure build in his chest, then blew out slowly, as Gar had taught him.

The stablemaster nodded to himself, watching.

He misses nothing
, Corban thought, then all else was banished from his mind as he set about determinedly attempting to keep his knuckles from further harm.

‘There’s something on your mind,’ Gar said, breaking the silence as they rested after their training session.

Corban looked up, but said nothing.

Gar shrugged. ‘Your business is your own. But you must try harder to focus. It affected your training today.’

Corban dipped a ladle into the water barrel and took a long drink. ‘Easy for you to say,’ he muttered under his breath.

‘Aye. It is,’ said Gar.

Corban blinked, feeling a flush of embarrassment.

‘Most things of worth don’t come easy,’ Gar continued, ‘and
anything
that can save your life on the battlefield
is
of worth. But you got the better of your distraction, after a while. That is good. Just do it more quickly next time; save your knuckles some pain.’

‘Huh,’ Corban exclaimed sourly.

‘How goes it in the Rowan Field?’ asked the stablemaster.

You know well enough
, thought Corban. He had often caught sight of Gar watching him train in the Field, standing in shadows.