The Faithful and the Fallen: Ruin Part 71

She shifted her weight and stabbed him through the heart.

'Get their bodies. Best we leave a message for those who come after,' she said.

'I like you,' Kulla said to her as they made their way back to the warband.

Coralen glanced at her and grunted. Kulla was short, slim, large dark eyes in an oval face. And a deadly killer. Coralen had seen her spar, seen her take lives at Gramm's hold with a deadly efficiency, as if she was harvesting crops.

'You are strong, here,' Kulla said, tapping her forehead. 'And here.' She pressed her palm to her heart. 'Back there, you did what you had to do, even though you did not like it.'

They had gathered the four dead huntsmen, wound rope around their feet and hung them from branches so that they dangled over the trampled path. Then Coralen had gutted them, slicing their bellies and spilling their intestines in tangled heaps below their hanging arms. She knew the warband that would eventually come this way would find them, half eaten probably and butchered like game after a hunt. It would sow seeds of fear.

She looked at her hands, still stained with blood.

'No, I didn't,' Coralen said.

'You will make a good match for our Bright Star.'

Coralen blinked at that, felt her neck flushing.

'Did Tukul talk to you?' she said, more abruptly than she intended.

'No,' Kulla said, wrinkling her brow. 'Why?'

'Never mind.'

She found that she missed Tukul, had enjoyed his company on the mad ride through Isiltir. All of the Jehar were stern and serious, but there had been another side to Tukul, a pragmatic humour that seeped into all he did or said. He had reminded her of Rath.

And now he is dead, too. Like Rath.

She felt grief clench in her chest, like a fist about her heart, slowly breathed it out, her thoughts turning to Gar. He had howled like an animal when Tukul had died, and his grief was still draped heavy upon him, his eyes hollow and angry.

I do not think there is one person in this entire warband that has not suffered the loss of loved ones because of this G.o.d-War. That made her angry.

We shall have our vengeance.

They were catching up with the warband now. Something drew her attention, from behind her. She slowed, turned, stared into the forest, head c.o.c.ked to one side.

'What is it?' Kulla asked, staring with her.

'I don't know,' Coralen frowned. She could not have said what had made her pause not a sound exactly, more a tingling upon her skin.

Like I'm being watched.

There was nothing, only the gentle rustle of a breeze through branches. She shrugged and carried on, leaving Kulla and the others as rearguard scouts, and sped up to try and get back to Enkara before it was full dark. Storm padded beside her, and when they reached Corban the wolven loped away to join him. Glancing down, Coralen noticed something red sprinkling the ground. She squatted to inspect it, saw it was paler than blood, almost pink. Then she heard Storm growl and looked up to see Buddai sniffing at the wolven. He frolicked closer to her, Storm gave him a swipe with a paw and he jumped away.

Hmm . . .

Corban reached down to run his fingers through Storm's fur, then smiled over at Coralen.

I'll have to report to him about what happened, but I need to find Enkara before it's dark.

She ignored him and jogged on. Soon she found Enkara, a darker shadow in the encroaching gloom.

'I've found it,' Enkara said, looking very pleased with herself.

'What?'

'Walk over here.'

Coralen did, past Enkara. For a moment she felt something, a kind of p.r.i.c.kling against her skin, like the air before a storm breaks, but then something under her foot shifted and she looked down to pick her way. The ground was covered with deep forest litter, cl.u.s.ters of dark-vine here and there. She took some wide strides to avoid it. Then she stopped and looked back at Enkara, who was smiling at her.

'What?' Coralen asked.

'You can't see it?'

'See what?' She was getting annoyed now.

Corban was getting close now, Meical beside him, both of them leading their horses through thick undergrowth. Behind them the warband was a hulking shadow.

Enkara bent down and seemed to plunge her hands into the ground, then she saw the Jehar warrior lift up a thick knotted rope, leaning back and pulling on it. As she did, the ground shimmered and rippled, spreading out in circular waves from Enkara like a rock thrown into a pool. Coralen steadied herself, looked down to see that she was standing on some kind of wooden construct.

Enkara put her back into pulling. 'Some help,' she grunted, and Coralen hurried over. Together they tugged on the rope and with a creaking groan a wooden door rose up from the forest floor, a huge iron-banded and hinged semi-circle.

Coralen stood there with her mouth open, looking down at a wide stone slope that led down into darkness.

'A glamour,' Enkara said.

'What is this?' Corban asked.

'A tunnel that will take us to Dra.s.sil,' Meical said.

Balur smiled when he saw it.

'Good. You have found one, then,' the giant rumbled. 'When Dra.s.sil was abandoned they were hidden so well that those that came after could not find the way back.'

Ethlinn was beside him. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes. 'The glamour is strong upon these,' she said, her voice like the creaking branches.

'There's more than one?' Corban asked.

'Yes,' Enkara said. 'We found six of them, all beginning at Dra.s.sil. Tukul set us to clearing them some were blocked, others crumbled and collapsed. Some had things living in them . . .' She shivered at a memory.

'But, how will we hide them from our enemy?' Corban said. 'We will lead them straight to Dra.s.sil.'

'No,' Balur said. 'The glamour is cunning. You cannot see them until they have been revealed by someone who has walked them. Once you have seen one, you can see them all.'

'I don't understand,' Corban said.

Neither do I, thought Coralen.

'When we are inside and the door is closed above us, the glamour will cover them again. No newcomer will see them, will notice anything other than the forest floor.'

'So how did Enkara see it?' Corban asked.

'Because she's seen it before. And now that you have, the glamour will no longer work upon you. You will be able to see all six of them, now.'

Corban thought about that for a moment, then looked up and smiled.

'Excellent,' he said.

The doors closed with a bang and darkness settled about them, broken by countless torches that burned a dotted line down the endless tunnel.

Ethlinn had remained behind with Enkara and Coralen, the rest of the warband marching on. Ethlinn lifted a huge wooden beam and slipped it through iron bars fixed to the enormous trapdoor.

'A precaution,' she said, 'though doubtless unnecessary.' She murmured a few words in giantish, Coralen feeling her skin p.r.i.c.kle as it had earlier, when she'd stood upon the door and not seen it.

'There,' Ethlinn said, turning away.

'So Dra.s.sil is down there?' Coralen said.

'Aye,' said Enkara. 'It would take three or four moons of hard walking through Forn to reach Dra.s.sil from this point, and that is without the glamours and traps that surround the fortress. In this tunnel, mounted, we'll be there in a ten-night.'

'Onwards then,' Coralen said.

'Home,' whispered Ethlinn.

CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO.

ULFILAS.

Ulfilas stood with his back to the great doors of the feast-hall, checking all entrances and exits, making sure they were guarded by trusted men. Even though they were in the heart of Isiltir, in the fortress that had once been Romar's seat of power, Ulfilas had reached a point of permanent mistrust.

Perhaps Jael's paranoia is rubbing off on me.

He flexed his fingers and clenched a fist, felt muscle and tendon ripple and contract along his arm, the st.i.tches in his bicep pulling. A ten-night had pa.s.sed since he'd arrived in Mikil and met with Jael. His arm was out of its sling now, feeling weak, and aching as he'd never imagined, but slowly, oh so slowly, he was starting to feel a trickle of strength flow back into it.

The room had been converted into a council chamber, the firepit covered over with boards and a thick-legged carven table placed across it.

The fire-pit should be lit, if even just to lend some heat to this room. Summer had slipped into autumn and the winds blew cold across the rolling plains of Isiltir.

All the kings of the alliance were there: Jael at the table's head, with Fram close by and Sumur a black shadow at his back, then Nathair with his companions silver-haired Calidus and the brooding giant, the outline of his war-hammer like a crow upon his back. Lothar, once battlechief to Helveth's ruler and now king of the realm. Ulfilas remembered him from the battle of Haldis, deep in Forn Forest. He had been clear-headed in council and fierce in battle. He sat now in silence and kingly splendour, the black hammer of his realm emblazoned on a white cuira.s.s, a white cloak of wolven fur trimmed with gold around his shoulders. His face was predatory and hawk-like, his nose sharp and beaked. One warrior stood at his back.

And then there was Gundul, King of Carnutan, dark-haired and round-faced. He was the son of the traitor Mandros who had slain Aquilus, Nathair's father, and had his head taken from his shoulders in recompense by Nathair's first-sword, Veradis. Gundul had played a part in Mandros' downfall, and in return Nathair had supported him in his claim to the throne of Carnutan.

None of these men would be king now, if not for Nathair. It is no wonder Jael is indebted to him. But no man gives such favours for nothing. What will he ask for in return?

A man sat beside Gundul, with deep lines in a narrow face and an iron-grey beard, he sat straight-backed and alert, sharp eyes taking in every detail.

Belo, some relation of Gundul, and apparently more in control of Carnutan than Gundul is.

Gundul had only arrived yesterday, two hundred warriors riding with him as an honour guard. Jael had chafed at the delay, and so had Nathair, who had spent most of his days hidden away in his camp, which was built like a fortress around a huge wain, wheels as big as a horse. Nathair stood, and the murmur of conversation died out, a hush falling around the table.

'Well met,' he said, nodding to each king. 'It has been a long road since last we were all together during my father's council at Jerolin. It was there that we made our pledge to one another, gave our oaths to this alliance; and now, look at us all. We are kings. Fortune has favoured us.' He raised a cup to them, his lips twisted in an almost-smile, as if at some unknown jest.

The kings raised their cups.

'I have helped you all, given aid when you asked. Lent my warbands, their blood spilt in your causes. Now I ask that you remember the oaths that we pledged to one another, and the war that we committed to fight.'

'I remember it well,' Gundul said. His face was flushed, whether with wine or enthusiasm Ulfilas could not tell. 'And I for one remember with grat.i.tude all that you have done on my behalf. Whatever must be done, if it is within my power to do so, then I am willing.'

Jael and Lothar raised their cups to that, though Belo's face did not look so pleased.

'The G.o.d-War has begun in earnest. The Black Sun is revealed as a warrior from Ardan in the west. He has gathered a warband about him of evil men and giants Jael's battlechief has already crossed paths with him.' Nathair gestured towards Ulfilas, who stood blinking beneath the gazes of the kings of the Banished Lands. A silence grew.

'I fought them in the north,' Ulfilas said. 'It is true giants and deadly warriors, the like of which I have never encountered before.' His gaze flickered to Nathair. 'I alone escaped with my life, my entire warband slaughtered.'

'In the north?' Lothar said. 'What were their numbers, and where are they now?'

'Over a thousand strong, and more joining them, so Jael's scouts tell us. They have travelled into Forn,' Nathair said, 'and seek to take refuge in Dra.s.sil.'

'Why in G.o.d's name would they do that?' Gundul asked. He dwelt furthest from the old forest.

All he knows of Forn is likely the faery tales and stories of its blood-thirsty inhabitants draigs, wolven, bats and all manner of beasts that'll consider you a good meal.

Belo leaned forwards, resting his chin on steepled fingers.

'What do you propose is done about this Black Sun?' he asked.

'We go after him.'

'That would not be the easiest task,' Belo commented.

Nathair frowned, turning a brooding stare upon Belo. 'Did you ever think that a G.o.d-War would be easy?'

'I can't say that I've thought about it much at all,' Belo said. 'Gundul's and my time has been spent working hard in our own realm to heal the damage done during the succession.'