Silvermay (18 page)

When I came to, I was on my hands and knees, fighting for breath. Nothing was broken, after all, but I was in no hurry to take a second blow. Somehow I stood, swaying too much to appear defiant.

‘Go! Run off after that cowardly boy and save me the trouble of killing you,' the man sneered.

I put out my hands for Lucien.

He laughed. ‘The child stays with me. I'm taking him to his father.'

So this wasn't Coyle. No, I could see that now. He was too young, only a few years older than Tamlyn.

‘Give Lucien to me,' I said, feeling steadier on my feet. ‘Nerigold gave him into my care. The last thing she'd ever want is for Lucien to be raised by his father. Coyle is a monster.'

‘He's my father, too,' said the man.

A name came to my mind, spoken in Tamlyn's gentle voice but with a harsh edge to show what it meant to him. Hallig.

I should have been watching the man instead of dredging his name from my memory. With Lucien held awkwardly to his belly with one hand, he'd used the other to draw his sword.

‘That insult will be your last, girl,' he said coldly and took a step towards me.

I staggered back, only to ram into a tree. No weapon; my chance to flee gone in an instant. I had only one defence left.

‘Do you know why Coyle wants the baby?' I said.

‘I don't care why he wants it,' said Hallig.

I was only alive still because he couldn't decide whether to hack me in two or simply impale me against the bark at my back.

‘It's because of the power this boy will bring to the man who rears him. That man will control all Wyrdborn
magic. That's what Arnou Dessar discovered at the diggings.'

Hallig relaxed his sword hand, although I was all too aware of its steel glinting in the light of the fire.

‘If you go back to Nan Tocha, to the old mines, he'll show —'

‘Dessar is dead,' Hallig announced with the certainty of one who'd done the killing himself.

Despite my own desperation, Master Dessar's face appeared before me. Poor man. He'd been kind to us and now he was the second person to die for Lucien. There were likely to be more by sunrise.

A savage roar drew Hallig's eyes as well as mine to the struggle on the fringes of the firelight. It wasn't one of the dogs that had made the sound but Tamlyn; a deep animal cry as he fought with only his bare hands against the ferocious dogs. How long could he hold out?

As we watched, he bellowed again and, with a mighty effort, threw both dogs back into the trees, using the moment's respite to bolt into the darkness. As soon as they'd scrambled to their feet, the dogs were after him, their blood-chilling cries now of the chase instead of battle.

Run, Tamlyn
, I pleaded silently.
Outstrip them. Stay alive.

Whether Tamlyn lived or died, he couldn't save Lucien from being stolen away from me, here, tonight.
I had to outwit the man who might yet flick the head clean off my shoulders before I even saw the blade coming. Yet perhaps Tamlyn had helped me already with all he'd told me of the Wyrdborn.

‘You should know the power you hold in your hands, my lord,' I said, adding the title to stroke his pride. ‘I'd gladly tell you about that power, and then, let me assure you, you'll think twice before you surrender that little baby to anyone else.'

‘What are you talking about?' Hallig growled with as much menace as the dogs.

‘Power such as you've never dreamed of, that's what I'm talking about. It seems strange to me that you would hand that power to your father when he will use it against you whenever it suits him. Do you trust him so much? Are you sure he'll never betray you? You're his son, but would you be so loyal if you knew he could brush you aside? Why shouldn't you be the one to dominate all around you? You could, Lord Hallig, if only you knew what you hold in your hands. You could rule the entire kingdom, make yourself king.'

Hallig's eyes widened and lost their deadly intent, filling instead with a greed that shone so brightly I could see its colour pulsing around his pupils.

Lucien stirred and looked up to see who was holding him. He began to cry and held his arms out towards me,
wriggling as only a baby can do. Hallig looked down at him with distaste. The crying was getting on his nerves.

‘He's hungry,' I lied. ‘Tell me, sir, how are you going to feed this little one while you decide what to do? Babies are tyrants, and this one more than most, I can tell you that. You won't get a moment's peace.'

I took a risk and held out my hands towards Lucien. ‘Tamlyn's forced me to care for the boy since his mother died. I can just as easily do the same for you.'

To my amazement and utter relief, Hallig let me take him. ‘Stop his squalling, would you, or I don't care what power he promises, I'll —'

He didn't finish his threat because a shape shot out of the darkness behind him. Before he even knew what was hurtling towards him, he was barrelled off his feet by a bone-crushing impact. I jumped clear just in time as he and his attacker slammed into the ground, making the forest quake and the closest trees shiver like frightened ghosts.

They rolled once, twice, each fighting to end up on top, and only when the attacker was pinned below for an instant did I see it was Tamlyn. He was naked, except for his underdrawers, his boots and the belt holding his knife, and was bleeding from wounds on his arms and chest. He was also soaking wet, which meant dirt and broken grass adhered to his skin as they rolled.

A lurch of his back tossed Hallig aside, but this only threw him closer to the sword that had been jolted from his hand when Tamlyn had hit him harder than a volley of stones from a catapult. Tamlyn moved like a snake and grabbed his brother's leg, dragging him away from the sword as his fingers touched the hilt.

Their fight was a struggle for the sword now, each forcing the other away as he lunged towards it. They had only their bare hands and the unnatural strength of their kind, but these were enough to make it a terrible battle. Hallig ran at Tamlyn, driving a shoulder into his bare and bleeding belly, and together they crashed against a tree, the same one I'd been pressed back against earlier. With a deafening crack, the trunk splintered, the base pushed one way, the tall column above, the other. It began to totter, sending me scampering desperately for safety.

Each of the Wyrdborn crawled off on hands and knees in time to keep the crushing weight off his shoulders, then they were at each other again, Tamlyn throwing Hallig onto his back with enough force to scoop a crater out of the dirt. The air was thick with dust and splintered wood.

By then I'd retreated far enough to be safe from falling trees and wrestling bodies, but there were other dangers in the forest that night and they had hardly
slipped my mind. When the sound of cracking twigs made me spin round, I expected to find the dogs sniffing the air, their teeth bared for the attack.

It was Ryall.

He was moving towards me tentatively and clearly terrified as he watched the Wyrdborn brothers battle over the sword.

‘It's Hallig's sword,' I told him.

He stared at me. He didn't see what difference this made, and seeing as much in his eyes only made me more furious.

‘Tamlyn can use it to kill him.'

Ryall said nothing. His face was whiter than the moon; his eyes, two black stars near its centre. I crossed the three strides separating us and shook him by the arm.

‘Pick up the sword,' I said, pushing him closer. ‘Get it into Tamlyn's hand.'

‘No, I can't,' he said, shaking his head. The rest of him was shaking, too, and his shoulders were pinched in, narrowed by fear.

There was no point arguing with him. I thrust Lucien into his arms and ran forward myself. The first twenty paces weren't so hard. When I came close to the grappling men, though, each step became more dangerous as they thrust and punched and backed away, inviting the other on only to charge back quickly, hoping
to catch him off balance. At any moment, I could be crushed by them both. The grunts and panting alone were enough to scare me off. But the sword was there for the taking.

Then Hallig saw me. He lunged at me, and only a backward spring I didn't think was possible saved me from his grasp.

‘Get back into the forest, Silvermay,' Tamlyn shouted. ‘If he gets hold of you, we're as good as dead.'

Part of me wanted to obey, but not my eyes. They could see Tamlyn tiring, the toll of his wounds sapping his strength and tilting the balance towards Hallig. He had to have that sword.
We
had to have it.

Hallig came at me again. Tamlyn knocked him aside, as he'd done at the start, and rolled him further from the sword. Here was my chance. I raced towards it, locked my hand around the hilt and backed away again.

‘I've got it, I've got it!'

I held the sword by the blade, ready for Tamlyn to take if he could only get free from Hallig.

‘Tamlyn,' I called. ‘Here, it's yours.'

‘Can't,' he hissed through gritted teeth. He had Hallig pinned to the ground, arms locked against arms, legs kneeling on legs. The strength of one equalled the strength of the other. The slightest shift from either of them would alter the balance.

‘Kill him, Silvermay. Drive the blade into his ribs.'

No, I couldn't. I knew as soon as the words entered my ears, it was hopeless. I'd killed the fingerless rogue with an arrow, from thirty paces away. This was different. Hallig was trying to kill us, to take Lucien, to bring about all I'd seen on the walls of the chamber, but I still couldn't thrust a sword into a man's side and feel the blade drive home with my bare hand.

Tamlyn turned his head long enough to glimpse all of this in my face.

‘Stand to the side,' he commanded. ‘Hold the hilt of the sword ready like you did before.'

But, of course, Hallig heard the orders, too, and knew what his brother was going to do. As soon as Tamlyn released his grip to grasp for the sword, Hallig sprang to his feet and, without a backward glance, ran off into the night.

T
amlyn was too done in to chase his brother. I'd never seen him like this. He'd always shown unbounded energy for any task long after commonfolk had flagged. Grappling with his own kind meant he was evenly matched and Hallig had fought as desperately as he. I winced at the many livid bites and slashes that crisscrossed his torso.

When Ryall dared to join us, I told him to put Lucien on his blanket, even though he was crying still in fright, and fetch what little water we had left. With this I bathed the dirt and crumpled leaves from Tamlyn's wounds as best I could, drawing in sharp breaths so many times it might have been I who'd suffered them.

‘I have nothing to tie up the worst cuts with,' I said.
‘Still, none of them are deep. We should thank the gods for that, I suppose.'

‘Did you kill the dogs?' Ryall asked.

Tamlyn and I both looked towards him and he immediately turned away in shame.

‘No,' Tamlyn answered. ‘I tried to outrun them, and for a short distance I could do it, but I knew they would wear me down before long. They know my scent, you see. They would have tracked me until I dropped. Then a bit of luck came my way: a fast-flowing stream. I ripped a branch from a nearby tree and stripped off my clothes — all but you see me in now. I laid the clothing out over the foliage of the branch, like a farmer's wife does with her washing, then set it free on the current. After that, I waded across, scrubbing away my own scent as much as I could, and watched from the other bank for the dogs to arrive. Do you realise they are blind?' he said, looking up at me. Despite the savagery of the beasts, he seemed to pity them for this.

I did my best not to shiver at the memory of those dripping eye sockets. ‘Yes.'

His voice dropped as he finished his tale. ‘The dogs followed the scent downstream.'

‘That's when you headed back here,' I said.

‘In time to hear you offer your services to a new master,' he said, raising his eyebrows at me.

‘And your brother fell for it. He gave me Lucien.'

‘Your brother!' said Ryall, again forgetting that he was in disgrace.

‘Only half of me is brother to Hallig,' Tamlyn said, ‘and I've always given thanks for that small mercy. He and I have fought since we were boys, urged on by our father, and Hallig was always the victor.'

‘He was older, bigger,' I said.

Tamlyn nodded. ‘We're the same size now.' His voice switched from memory to apprehension. ‘We can't stay here. Hallig will soon retrieve the dogs, but I have his sword now and he'll be wary. We each have a weapon that can kill the other and he'll think twice about rushing into such a fight again.'

He flicked his tired hand towards the destruction he and Hallig had wrought to the forest where only a while earlier we'd been sleeping. Two giants the size of oak trees couldn't have done worse.

I took Lucien once more, while Ryall helped Tamlyn collect what they could salvage from the wreckage of our camp. My father's precious bow had been smashed by the falling tree. One important item had survived: the harness. Despite its usefulness, I was beginning to hate the contraption. With each of us carrying what we could, we set off into the dark.

Ryall was silent, his head bowed and shoulders
slumped. He couldn't look either of us in the eye and we did nothing to ease his shame, even though I didn't feel any anger towards him and I doubted Tamlyn did, either. Ryall had had no idea what he was getting into when he'd insisted on coming along. I bet he regretted it now, and who could blame him if he wished he was home with my aunt, safe in a warm bed with a day's carefree hunting to look forward to.

Our heart-stopping moments weren't quite over for the night. When Tamlyn used Hallig's sword to hack a path through a dense part of the forest, something rushed out of the undergrowth, startling poor Ryall, who cried out in fear, and making me jump enough to wake Lucien. Tamlyn rounded on it instantly, sword at the ready to defend us, but this was no monstrous dog, nor a Wyrdborn with murder in his eyes. It was the nanny goat. She must have beaten Ryall into the trees when the first dog attacked and had been wandering about, alone and terrified, ever since. She seemed remarkably pleased to see us and immediately lay down to let Lucien feed.

Tamlyn, still shirtless and bleeding in places, came to watch over him.

‘What did you mean before?' I asked. ‘You said both you and Hallig had a weapon to kill the other with. You have his sword, but what does he have of yours?'

‘The dogs,' said Tamlyn, without taking his eyes from Lucien. He knew I was staring in disbelief, but took his time turning to offer an explanation. ‘They're the dogs I told you about, the ones my mother gave me as pups.'

‘But you told me the dogs made you happy. You loved them and … and they loved you. That was why your mother gave them to you. How could they want to tear you to pieces?'

‘Coyle,' said Tamlyn, as though that was all the reason they'd need.

It wasn't enough for me. ‘What do you mean? Did he turn them against you with enchantments?'

‘Oh, he's worked his foul magic on them to make them bigger, stronger, but that's not why they attacked me.' He hesitated and, with a sinking heart, I realised he was remembering the deepest hurt. ‘Coyle guessed what my mother was up to. He ordered them put in with the other hunting dogs, but my mother resisted. She was determined that I should know the joy of love. My father was just as determined to teach me the pain that love can bring. He used the dogs for his own purpose, first, charming them and lulling me into thinking his heart was softening. Then, when I left them with him, he blinded them. You've seen the result. Sockets without eyes; blood seeping from the wounds that never properly healed.'

I felt the deepest revulsion, not so much for what had been done to the dogs, but for what had been done to Tamlyn, only a boy when he had lost what little he'd had to comfort him. ‘I can only guess at how much it hurt you,' I said in horror.

‘Yes, but my father's plan didn't work. The dogs were helpless, pitiful, which only made me care for them more. Coyle was furious, and an angry Wyrdborn can only respond with greater cruelty. He had servants bring him my shirts and bedsheets before they were washed so they were heavy with the smell of me. Other things went missing from my room, things that had been part of my games with the dogs. Then, with the poor blinded creatures tied to a post and Coyle's sergeant-at-arms draped in my clothing … Do I need to go on, Silvermay? I wasn't there to see it, but I have imagined the beatings they suffered so many times, I might as well have been. After that, my dogs growled and snapped whenever I went near them. When the other hunting dogs were set free by a foolhardy handler, Coyle locked my two in the kennel so their howling would torment me.'

‘It made you hate him,' I said.

His gaze bored into me with an intensity that I'd never seen before; not in his eyes nor anyone else's. He was appealing to me to understand something that was simply beyond my experience.

‘Don't you see, Silvermay? That's what he wanted. He's a Wyrdborn and so am I. He wanted hatred in my veins, hatred of him, because only then could he be sure of me as his son.'

I'd never heard anything less human. Why would a father seek the hatred of his own son? I couldn't bear to think about it and said instead, ‘The dogs are still yours, though, and that's why they're a weapon against you.'

‘Yes,' he replied, suddenly giving way to his weariness. ‘But it's what might save us, too, and free us to see our pledge through to the end.'

‘I don't understand. How can it save us?'

‘The dogs will track my scent wherever I go. That's how they found us here, and Hallig knows he will hunt us down again and again, until he gets the better of me.' He looked down at his ravaged legs and arms, hinting that it might not be long, then went on, ‘But my brother has forgotten something vital, and I doubt he's clever enough to see it. It's not me Coyle wants, it's Lucien. You must take Lucien on alone, while I lead Hallig as far from Ledaris as I can.'

‘No!' The word shot out of me before I'd had a moment to think. Even when I did, the answer was the same. ‘I can't do it. And what about you? I might never see you again.'

‘We made a pledge to Nerigold and that comes first,'
he said solemnly. Then a light came on in his eyes that had been dulled since the attack. ‘You should show a bit of confidence in me, too, Silvermay. Without you two to slow me down, I can move quickly and stay ahead of the dogs. When the time is right, I might be the one to attack. I have Hallig's sword, after all, and no Wyrdborn likes fighting when the spells of our birth give no protection against dying.' He remembered the smile I'd taught him and teased me with it as he added, ‘If I can finish with the dogs, I'll join you in Ledaris. Promise me a kiss when we meet and I might be waiting there when you arrive.'

A kiss! He didn't have to wait until Ledaris, but I couldn't tell him that so blatantly.

Tamlyn continued with his plan, making me realise he'd decided on it before the nanny goat had startled us with her return.

‘Ryall, come here,' he called.

Ryall had been nursing his disgrace some yards away, but not so far that he hadn't heard all we'd said. He shuffled closer.

‘You acted like the worst coward back there when the dogs attacked, didn't you?' said Tamlyn.

It was such a harsh thing to say and I had to stifle a sympathetic gasp. Tamlyn seemed to read my thoughts because he turned to me and held up his hand before I could interrupt.

Ryall responded exactly as any young man would do when accused like this. His entire body slumped and he took an unnatural interest in his shoes.

‘You are luckier than most cowards, though,' said Tamlyn in a brighter tone. ‘You have the chance to redeem yourself, quickly and in the most important way. You've heard what we're going to do. I'll lead Hallig and the dogs on a merry chase while Silvermay takes Lucien to Ledaris and tries to get hold of the talisman he needs. You must go with them, to find the trail ahead, to hunt for food and to protect them as best you can. There'll be fear at every turn, but you can learn from the terror that overwhelmed you tonight.'

Ryall's head came up. ‘How can I learn from my own cowardice?'

‘Even the bravest men run from their first battle. Far more than ever admit it. No matter how he swears he'll fight to the end, no matter how he imagines what it will feel like, no man knows what terror will do to him until it happens. This was your first battle, Ryall. After tonight, you know what fear can do if you let it. The feeling is stamped into you like the king's head on a coin. And you also know what the shame of running away is like. So, Ryall, make up your mind. Which feeling do you never want again?'

‘I already know,' said Ryall without hesitation, and
this time when he looked up, his shoulders squared and a breath filled his chest.

‘Then we can rely on you?'

Ryall switched his eyes to me as he said firmly, ‘I won't let Silvermay down a second time. I'd rather die.'

‘Let's hope you don't have to,' said Tamlyn. He took the dagger from his belt and passed it to Ryall. ‘This is the only weapon I can spare. The sight of it on your belt might frighten off a nervous bandit, at least.'

 

Tamlyn waited until we'd reached a narrow stream before we parted. He would follow it westward on the same bank, while Ryall and I were to ford the stream and head north-east.

‘There's still an hour till dawn,' he said. ‘Don't stop to rest until it's full light.'

‘I couldn't sleep with those dogs so close, anyway,' I said. Silently, I wondered how I would ever sleep again.

Ryall shook Tamlyn's hand, promised again to lay down his life if need be, then splashed into the water, expecting me to follow.

I stayed on the bank, stunned that this farewell should be happening so quickly.
A kiss in Ledaris
, I thought.
I'd happily trade that for an embrace here by the stream.

Instead, Tamlyn took my hands and pressed them gently between his own. ‘I've seen your face every day
since that first morning in Haywode. I hope it won't be too many days before I see it again, Silvermay.' He bent forward and kissed me on the cheek, just the lightest peck, and then he was standing upright again and letting go of my hands.

I'd been forming things to say in my head ever since he'd told me we had to part. I'd composed and rejected a dozen speeches, solemn and measured and unsentimental all of them, each one designed to hint at love without daring to use the word. Every one of those clever lines dissolved in my head and I was left with no words at all.

So I stood watching silently along the overgrown bank, until, with a final turn and the faintest hint of a nod for me, Tamlyn disappeared into the darkness.