A reminder to those who follow. That we are not so easily cowed, not even by the dread Kadoshim.

CHAPTER EIGHT

CYWEN

Cywen rode beside Corban, close to the head of their strange warband, Buddai loping along beside her. It was highsun, the sky above was a cloudless blue, a cold breeze blew out of the east. She glanced at Corban. Is this really my little brother? He had just taken his warrior trials and sat his Long Night, the last I saw him, and here he is, giving orders to a warband including Jehar and giants. So much has changed. He was taller, wider about the chest and shoulders, relaxed as he sat upon Shield with the easy grace of a warrior.

Even his face had changed; thinner and sharper, the stubble of a short beard shadowing his jaw. And he was pale, dark hollows beneath his red-rimmed eyes evidence of his grief. A shared grief.

Mam.

At the thought of her Cywen felt the dark wave of sorrow that lay beneath all else in her soul. She reached a hand up to the belt of her mam’s throwing knives strapped across her torso. It was the only thing she had of her.

So long apart, only a few moments together before . . . The image of Calidus cutting her mam down filled Cywen’s mind, grief and rage swelled inside, a physical thing that stole her breath away.

So many things I wanted to say to her, stolen from me by Calidus. She remembered crouching, stroking her mam’s face, trying to wipe away the blood that trickled from her mouth.

It is my fault she died. She would be alive now if she had not come to free me. She swiped at tears as they spilt onto her cheeks and she clenched her eyes shut.

Free. Thank you, Mam, I’ll not squander your gift.

She looked about, surrounded by a bleak, rolling countryside of purple heather and gorse and breathed in a deep lungful of air. Free. Even Cywen’s guilt could not suppress the relief she felt at having escaped the constraints of Nathair and Calidus. She shivered at the memory of them.

She felt a prickling sensation and realized that Corban was looking at her.

‘We have much to talk about.’

‘We do,’ she agreed. I have so many questions. Where to start . . . ?

‘Did they harm you?’ Corban asked, worry, concern and fear creasing his face.

‘Harm? Not really. Lots of threats. My wrists were bound at first – because I tried to escape; or kill people.’

Corban grinned at that. ‘Who?’

She had to think about that for a moment. It all seemed so long ago. ‘Morcant. Conall. Rafe.’

‘All good people to kill,’ Corban said. ‘But they didn’t harm you?’

‘No.’ Her thoughts slipped to her guards, Veradis and then the troubled giant, Alcyon. Veradis’ face hovered in her mind, so serious and determined, and she remembered one of the last times she had seen him. He’d told her of the bodies in the mountains when she had been sick with worry that Corban or her mam were amongst the dead. Heb and Anwarth, Veradis told me. Not Corban or Mam. Telling her that was an act of kindness.