Trinity (12 page)

“
Berend!”

Berend scowled at the tone of
Adalric’s voice, but he made his expression passive as he turned.
Damn the Alpha for waking so early. Berend was forced to lean
heavily on his good leg to bow low to Adalric. Away from battle,
the Alpha wore a pale leather jerkin trimmed with wolf fur. As
Berend stood, he glanced at Vali who was standing just behind
Adalric.

“
You’re ready
to leave?” There was no warmth in Adalric’s voice or his
stare.

When had Berend lost the trust
and respect of his Alpha? He ignored Adalric’s pointless question.
He was wearing his armour, he had weaponry strapped to his waist
and back and he was also carrying saddlebags that were full of
provisions. It was painfully obvious that he was about to start
searching for Skaric.

Berend gestured towards the
waiting men. “I want to get as far as possible before nightfall.”
His quarry was getting further ahead of him with every moment he
delayed.

One of the
packs had reported that six men had been slaughtered in a field
close to Valgate. Skaric’s horse—identifiable by its fur-trimmed
saddlecloth—had been found in the same field. Judging by the
activity of the city’s Guardians, the incarnation of Miale
had
not
gone
there.

“
You haven’t
picked a nyxus to go with you.”

Berend hadn’t
felt the need. Besides, there wasn’t a warrior that he hadn’t
trained; he trusted every one of them with his life. He couldn’t
say the same for
any
of the nyxii.

“
I want you to
take Vali.”

Berend resisted the urge to
roll his eyes. “I have no need of Vali’s skills.” He had no need of
anyone that might possibly sympathise with Skaric. He knew that
Skaric and Vali were rivals and friends.

Adalric narrowed his eyes in a
slight gesture that Berend almost missed. “Skaric is a nyxus. If he
really is a traitor, he could destroy you and your men before you
could act.”

Berend clamped his teeth
together. Skaric didn’t have the balls to do that, but Adalric
didn’t know it. There was no way Berend was going to say or do
something that would expose his lies. “Vali is one of our most
experienced nyxii. Wouldn’t he be more valuable to us if he was
sent to search for Miale?”

Adalric’s eyes narrowed more
noticeably. “Vali and Skaric are evenly matched in skill. You’ll
need him.”

Berend snorted, ignoring the
pain that shot through his nose and cheeks. Skaric was better than
Vali. He was more creative and adventurous. At least, he had been.
It wouldn’t take a nyxii to catch Skaric now.

“
Is there a
problem?”

“
No. Of course
not, Alpha. If you think it’s best, I’ll take Vali with
me.”

Adalric hesitated, staring at
Berend. “I do think it’s best.”

Berend quickly shifted his gaze
to Vali. He couldn’t read the nyxus’ expression and that bothered
him. “You’d better get a horse ready. Quickly.”

Vali gave him a shallow bow.
“Of course, war leader.” He lingered a moment longer and then
headed over to the corral at a brisk pace.

Berend watched him go. “You
know he and Skaric are friends, don’t you?”

Adalric nodded. Of course he
knew.

“
And you still
think it’s a good idea for him to come with me?”

Adalric took a
step closer. He was tall enough to look down on Berend with his
cold blue eyes. “That’s exactly why I want him to go with you. He
knows Skaric better than anyone. If
anyone
can help you find my son, it’s
Vali.”

Berend shivered under the
Alpha’s gaze. “Does he know Skaric better than you?”

Adalric’s expression became
dark. He clamped his lips together so hard that the colour drained
from them. “Just bring my son back. Alive.”

Berend bowed low. He didn’t
move until Adalric had walked away. He curled his mouth into a
snarl as he stood tall again. Adalric’s confidence in Berend had
always been rock solid. He was the war leader for Ysia’s sake. He
didn’t need a nyxus to watch over him, especially not Vali, who was
as well known for whining like a spoilt girl as he was for his
magical skill. Berend whipped round and limped the rest of the way
to his men. His knee—supported by a splint—was as stiff as wood and
hurt like fury, fueling his rage.

Annoyingly, Vali joined them
just as Berend was about to give the order to leave. Shame. He had
hoped to leave the nyxus trailing behind.

As they rode out of the camp,
Vali pulled his horse up alongside Berend’s.

“
You’re not
happy about me tagging along, are you?”

Berend smiled. At least Vali
wasn’t stupid. “What are your orders?” He looked across at Vali in
time to see the nyxus shrug.

“
The same as
yours. To bring Skaric back alive.” Vali spurred his horse forward,
leaving Berend glaring at his back.

*

Kiana and Nidan had arrived at
Norlea via a dusty road that cut through open farm land, pregnant
with wispy crops. The village itself was surrounded by a sturdy
wall made of tree trunks that had been cut lengthways. Two men
stood guard. They were well armed but poorly groomed and wore
neither a uniform or armour. Kiana and Nidan dismounted, leading
their horses as they walked through the gates.

Two dozen single-storey round
houses littered the compound. Each one was made from mudbricks with
low thatched roofs. A pair of dead rabbits hung outside the closest
house, tied by their hind legs. Swarms of incessantly buzzing flies
congregated around the dead animals. Each house had a fenced off
area at the rear, housing livestock which stood miserably on the
dry ground. One household had a pair of plump pigs, another a sheep
with a trio of nearly full grown lambs. Chickens waddled about the
village freely, clucking as they pecked at the ground searching for
food. The village stank of faeces and urine. Straw crunched under
Kiana’s feet.

A short distance away a small
group of children stopped playing with sticks and stones in order
to stare open-mouthed at the two strangers.

Kiana tugged on Nidan’s arm. “Are
you sure this village isn’t big enough to have a priest or Guardian
living here?”

She stared around at the other
visible villagers. There were two women filling wooden buckets from
a well, their hair tied back and covered with squares of undyed
cloth. Another pair of women sat on stools, their legs straddling
wide tubs filled with soapy water. Their faces were red as they
rubbed clothes over metal scrubbing boards. They had been
mid-conversation, but the words had died on their lips.

“
Why are they all
staring?” She clung even tighter to Nidan’s arm. She had never seen
so many people in one place before. The tower had been filled with
people, but she had never seen anyone except her Guardians, Erynn
and Ducarius.

She glanced at a man who was
hammering dents out of an iron pot with a mallet. His arms were as
muscled as any Guardian she had ever met, but his expression was
cold and distrusting. Opposite him, another man sat carving
utensils and further on, there was a scrawny man scraping a dull
knife over a dripping wet piece of hide.

Kiana stopped, pulling Nidan as a
tall, simply dressed man strode down the road—if it could be called
that—towards them. Beside him walked a plump and cheerful-looking
woman. The man was looking directly at them; as he drew near, he
stopped.

He touched his fingertips to his
temple and then extended a closed fist to Nidan. “Welcome to
Norlea, Guardian.”

Nidan touched the man’s fist with
his own.

The man’s expression was
distrusting as he looked at Nidan’s face and his dishevelled,
tattered clothes. “It’s not often that we get travellers here.” He
wrinkled his nose. “It smells like you haven’t had a bath in some
time.”

Kiana dug her nails into Nidan’s
arm. She smelt terrible and probably looked worse, though surely
she couldn’t smell as badly as the village? She had tried to tame
her hair and tie it back with the left over thread, but tendrils of
it had still snaked loose to curl about her face and shoulders. Her
skin felt itchy and her clothes were stiff with filth. She didn’t
need a stranger telling her how awful she looked.

The plump woman slapped her
companion across the chest. “Don’t be so rude, Cadman!”

“
It’s all right,”
Nidan said. “We haven’t slept on a bed in days, let alone had
baths! Our home is… was… quite a way from here, further to the
west. It was destroyed.”

Cadman’s expression became dark.
“Destroyed? By Wolves?”

The woman beside him drew in a
sharp breath and shook her head sadly. Kiana felt Nidan’s muscles
tense.

“
Yes. My
companion and I have been travelling ever since. We aim to reach
Fairlake.”

Cadman stroked his chin. “Fairlake
is a long way from here. Wouldn’t you be better off heading to
Ironhold?”

Nidan gently lifted Kiana’s hand
from his arm. “I want to deliver my companion to Fairlake first.
She is a priestess of Miale.”

Kiana’s heartbeat quickened.
Nidan’s words were too close to the truth. What if these villagers
had heard about the attack on Blackoak Tower? What if they guessed
who she really was? She took a deep breath. They wouldn’t know.
They couldn’t.

The woman clapped her hands
together in excitement. “Poor things! You look exhausted. A
Guardian of Pios and a priestess of Miale are more than welcome in
our village. It would be an honour to help you. Wouldn’t it,
Cadman?”

Cadman nodded stiffly. “Of course,
Alish. We’ll arrange for food, baths and clean clothes for you. You
can spend the night here and we’ll give you provisions for the next
stage of your journey.”

Kiana inclined her head in thanks.
The thought of warm food, a soothing bath and a comfortable bed
filled her with warmth.

After calling someone across to
take their horses, Cadman and Alish led them past the houses to the
far end of the village. Kiana stopped in her tracks as she saw a
building made from grey stone that had been pockmarked by the
elements. It consisted of two circular structures that had been
joined together in a lopsided manner and a square entrance, which
jutted out. The building was obviously ancient with crumbling
plaster that had been repaired on more than one occasion. It also
looked incomplete, as though there should have been more, and a
straight wall had been erected to quickly finish the job. To the
side, in the shadow of the village wall, several stone blocks had
been neatly stacked.

“
The temple,”
Nidan whispered. “Or it was.”

Kiana’s chin trembled. It was sad that the building would
remain incomplete for eternity.
Except it won’t because we’re going to fix this. Somehow we’ll
fix this madness.

“
This is our
meeting hall,” Cadman said, “but also our home. I am the Elder of
this village and Alish is my wife.”

“
Pleased to meet
you,” Kiana said quietly, curtseying.

“
What are your
names, dears?” Alish asked.

Kiana’s voice stuck in her throat.
What should she say? What if they recognised her name?

“
Nye and Brid,”
Nidan said.

Kiana touched his hand gently,
silently thanking him.

“
Lovely names!
Come inside.”

Kiana slipped her hand into
Nidan’s as they followed Alish inside. Cadman did not follow
them.

The entrance hall had no windows
but was lit by four brands that rested in iron sconces. The floor
was made of flagstones that were cold beneath Kiana’s feet: the
soles of her slippers were almost completely worn through. At one
point, there had been three internal doorways, but the third had
been blocked off with stone. Kiana glanced up at Nidan, but he
shrugged and pulled her through the left hand doorway into a
circular room.

The room had several long and
narrow windows that allowed light to flood inside. Faded frescos
adorned the once smoothly plastered wall. Wooden chairs stood in
concentric circles with space in the centre for a speaker to
stand.

“
I’ll have beds
made up in here for you,” Alish said. “I’m sorry I can’t offer you
more privacy. I’ll also have a bathtub brought through and fresh
clothes.”

Kiana felt warmth burning her
cheeks. She had slept close to Nidan but bathing in front of him
was another matter entirely. Glancing at Nidan, Kiana saw that his
face had turned a violent shade of red.

“
Sit down. Rest.
I’ll be back soon.” Alish said. She bustled out of the room and
closed the door behind her.

“
They seem like
nice people,” Nidan said. “And we could both do with some clean
clothes and a good night’s sleep.”

“
So could
Skaric.”

“
We can ask for
spare clothes. They’ll be only too happy to help us,” Nidan said
stiffly.

Kiana wrapped her arms about
herself and turned away from him to stare at the frescos. It should
have been comforting that Miale and Pios were so loved. But the
depth of that love was mirrored by equally deep hatred against the
Wolves, against Skaric.

The fresco had not been looked
after. The red and orange tones were faded and patchy, and in some
places, the images they depicted were almost unrecognisable. A
solid red border ran around the top and bottom of the wall, whilst
the images seemed to grow out of the bottom border. The story
seemed to start on the right hand side of the door. There was an
image of Miale holding the cup of knowledge. Her hair was flowing
and her eyes were blank and unseeing. It was an image that Kiana
had seen countless times in her tutor’s books. For the first time,
she wondered why she looked nothing like Miale.