The Faithful and the Fallen: Ruin Part 8

'Asroth and Elyon, the Scourging, Ben-Elim and Kadoshim, we've all heard the tales.'

'Aye, faery tales,' Dath said.

'There's usually a fire that starts the smoke,' Farrell shrugged. 'What I'm saying is: there's something big happening. You'd be a fool to ignore it.' He looked pointedly at Dath. 'So Corban's part of it. Why not? And that would explain a lot of things: like why we're here, with giants and Jehar all around us and Kadoshim a dozen leagues behind us. Besides, if anyone is going to be this Seren Disglair, I, for one, am happy it's Corban.'

'What do you mean?' Cywen asked him. She noticed Coralen was staring hard at Farrell.

'He's the best of us,' Farrell said with a shrug. 'Honest, brave, fair. Loyal. I'd follow him into any fight.'

Voices drew her attention then Corban and Meical. Without thinking she rose and strode towards them, seating herself beside Corban.

'I'm not saying that I've decided to go to Edana and not Dra.s.sil,' Corban was saying. 'What I am saying is that if we went to Edana I can see us doing much good by aiding her. Rhin is our enemy, a servant of Asroth. If we can help Edana defeat her, it would be a great victory for us.'

'Rhin is an enemy,' Meical said, speaking slowly, as if he chose his words with care, 'but she is not the enemy. To defeat Asroth you must go to Dra.s.sil.'

'Why?'

'Because that is where the prophecy says you will go, and that the enemies of Asroth will gather about you there.'

'I have heard much talk of this prophecy,' Corban said, 'but I have yet to actually hear it.'

'I can remedy that,' said Meical. He reached inside his cloak and pulled out a round leather canister. He undid a cord that bound it and slid out a scroll. It crackled as he unrolled it; everyone gathered close to hear it.

War eternal between the Faithful and the Fallen, infinite wrath come to the world of men.

Lightbearer seeking flesh from the cauldron, to break his chains and wage the war again.

Two born of blood, dust and ashes shall champion the Choices the Darkness and Light.

Black Sun will drown the earth in bloodshed, Bright Star with the Treasures must unite.

By their names you shall know them Kin-Slayer, Kin-Avenger, Giant-Friend, Draig-Rider, Dark Power 'gainst Lightbringer.

One shall be the Tide, one the Rock in the swirling sea.

Before one, storm and shield shall stand, before the other, True-Heart and Black-Heart.

Beside one rides the Beloved, beside the other, the Avenging Hand.

Behind one, the Sons of the Mighty, the fair Ben-Elim, gathered 'neath the Great Tree.

Behind the other, the Unholy, dread Kadoshim, who seek to cross the bridge, force the world to bended knee.

Meical paused, glancing at the faces around the fireside.

'Black Sun will drown the earth in bloodshed,' Dath whispered to Farrell, his voice carrying in the silence. 'Don't much like the sound of that.'

'There's more,' Meical said and continued reading.

Look for them when the high king calls, when the shadow warriors ride forth, when white-walled Tela.s.sar is emptied, when the book is found in the north.

When the white wyrms spread from their nest, when the Firstborn take back what was lost, and the Treasures stir from their rest.

Both earth and sky shall cry warning, shall herald this War of Sorrows.

Tears of blood spilt from the earth's bones, and at Midwinter's height, bright day shall become full night.

As Meical finished silence settled upon them, broken only by the hiss and crackle of the flames.

'Storm and shield,' Corban whispered.

'Indeed,' said Meical. 'So, you see, you are the Bright Star, our champion.'

This might all actually be true, Cywen thought. My brother, the Champion of Elyon. It was much easier to believe, sitting here in the dark around a flickering fire, Ben-Elim and giants for company.

'Why?' Corban said.

'Why what?' replied Meical.

'Why me? Why am I this Bright Star? Why not Edana, or some prince or king? Me, the son of a blacksmith, a boy whose only ambition was to be a warrior and serve his king.'

'I can't answer that,' Meical said. 'I just know that it is you. The reason why does not even matter. It won't change anything. Sometimes it is just best to accept what is, and get on with doing.'

Corban nodded thoughtfully. 'When was this prophecy written?' he asked.

'Two thousand years ago,' Meical said.

Corban blew out a long breath. 'Two thousand years. Our fate was decided two thousand years ago. My fate . . .' He looked at Meical, his expression hovering between doubt and hope. 'So, if it's prophesied that I am the Bright Star, then we are going to win?'

'The prophecy does not say who will win, only who will fight.'

'That's a shame,' Dath muttered.

'But it does say that you must go to Dra.s.sil,' Meical added.

'Dra.s.sil is the Great Tree?' Corban asked.

'Aye.'

'It's a bit vague as to why I should go there.'

'The Ben-Elim will gather to you there. If that is not good enough reason, then there are others.'

'Such as?'

'The spear of Skald.'

'It is there still, then?' A deep voice rumbled behind Cywen, making her jump. It was Balur. He stepped into the light.

'It is,' Tukul said. 'I left ten of my sword-kin there to guard it.'

'Ten is not a great number,' Balur observed.

'No, it is not. All the more reason to return there as quickly as we can,' Meical said.

'What is the spear of Skald?' Corban asked.

'It is one of the Seven Treasures,' Meical answered. 'Skald was the high king of the giants, when there was only one clan.'

'Aye, before we were Sundered,' Balur said. 'The spear was not his. It was used to slay him, and it was left in his body; thus ever since it has been named Skald's spear.'

'It is in his body still,' Tukul said. 'Or what is left of his body. We did not move it.'

'You have spoken of the Seven Treasures before,' Corban said. 'Forged from the starstone?'

'Aye, that is right,' Balur said.

'The cauldron is the most powerful. Together the Treasures can form a gateway between the Otherworld and this world of flesh,' Meical said, locking his gaze with Corban's. 'That is why Calidus seeks them. The cauldron is one. The axe is another. To thwart Asroth they must be destroyed.'

'But we have the axe. Let us destroy it now if Asroth needs all Seven Treasures then he will be defeated.' Corban sounded excited. 'We can end this now.'

'It's not as simple as that,' Meical said. 'To be destroyed, the Treasures must all be gathered together.'

'There's always a catch with these things,' Dath muttered. Coralen punched his shoulder.

'So Calidus has the cauldron, and we have the axe.'

'And we have the spear,' Tukul said. 'In Dra.s.sil.'

'Do you understand now?' Meical asked Corban. 'There are good reasons to go to Dra.s.sil. The spear must be made safe.'

Corban gazed into the fire. 'What you say, it does make sense. I just . . . my oath.'

'There are other options,' Meical said. 'Send word to Edana. Perhaps she will join us. The danger is wasting time, Corban. The world will not stand still and wait for you. Asroth is moving. Calidus also seeks Dra.s.sil. He has not been able to find it, yet, but it is only a matter of time.'

'I would not break my oath.'

As Cywen watched, emotions swept Corban's face: doubt, anger, pain, settling into one she recognized well.

Pig-headedness.

'Calidus has been laying plans for many years.'

'Calidus,' Corban said, the hatred he felt for him apparent to all. 'Tell me of him.'

'He is high captain of the Kadoshim, second only to Asroth,' Meical said, 'as I am high captain of the Ben-Elim. He is cunning, deadly, utterly devoted to his cause.'

'I will see him dead,' Corban said, his voice flat, emotionless.

'We could go back, slay him now,' a new voice said. Akar the Jehar, who had been sitting quietly, listening the whole time. 'Calidus is the puppet-master in all of this: Asroth's will made flesh. Kill him and the war is won.'

'And how would we kill him?' Gar asked. There was something in his tone not quite scorn.

'With a sword in our hands, courage in our hearts,' Akar spat back.

Tukul rested a hand on Akar's wrist. 'We would fail. He is surrounded by a thousand Kadoshim clothed in Jehar bodies, all that strength and skill at their disposal. Corban would most likely be slain, and the war would be lost.'

'It can be done,' Akar insisted.

'Your shame blinds you. You were deceived and there is no dishonour in that. Sumur is responsible. As for you; master your emotions, see clearly. Meical and Corban are right. We will fight other battles first, wait for a better time.'

'And if there is no better time?'

'Then we will die then, instead of now.'

Corban stood. 'Meical, all of you, thank you for your wisdom, your guidance. You've given me much to think on. There is so much to consider . . .' He fell silent, eyes distant. 'I have not decided, but my heart whispers to me that I should find Edana. I don't say this out of stubbornness . . .'

Really?

'I gave my word, and it seems to me that our hearts, our oaths, our choices make the difference between us and them.' He glanced over his shoulder, northwards, into the night. His eyes came back to them, settling upon Cywen. 'And I know, if my mam and da could see me from across the bridge of swords, they would want me to keep my oath. Truth and courage, they taught me. I'd not let them down.' With that he turned and walked away. Storm appeared out of the darkness and padded alongside him.

CHAPTER NINE.

FIDELE.

Fidele held a knife to the Vin Thalun's throat as Maquin bound the man's hands about the trunk of a tree.

Lykos' secret, Fidele repeated the words their prisoner had uttered back at the woodcutters' cabin. The giantess and her whelp. Those words had kept him alive, at least for a little while longer.

'What do you mean?' Maquin had asked.

'I'll show you,' the pirate had said, refusing to comment further, even when Maquin had put his knife to the man's throat and drawn blood.

Fidele and Maquin had shared a look, both of them intrigued. Fidele had changed into the breeches and woollen tunic Maquin had stolen for her. Then they had walked into the forest, Fidele a pace behind Maquin, who held his knife close to the Vin Thalun's back, following a path that was little wider than a fox's trail. As far as Fidele could make out, the Vin Thalun led them south, which was fine by her as it was away from Jerolin and Lykos. They pa.s.sed through rolling woodland that turned steadily thicker. Dusk settled over them quickly, the forest becoming a place of dense shadows and eerie sounds, and now darkness was thick about them. The trail ahead was almost invisible. They'd stopped for the night; their prisoner sat with his back to a tree, arms bound about it.