by Glen L. Hall
Breth grabbed Brennus and threw him over his shoulder and off they went.
Kyloe Shin was a barren hilltop, a complete contrast to the thick wooded crest they had just come from, and for a second Brennus was disorientated, but the bearded men were equally quick at covering this open ground. As they ran, occasionally Ezru would transform and suddenly launch himself into the air. On wings wider than those of any bird of prey, he would disappear over their heads and return several minutes later, bringing news to the brothers. From what Brennus could see of their faces, it didn’t seem that it was good.
After a while he found himself being placed firmly on the ground once more. He looked around him. Ahead was a slender rope bridge that had been pinned with thick iron rings to two blocks of rock. His heart sank.
The Grim-were was also standing looking at the bridge.
‘Did you see my brother?’ asked Brennus, almost pleading with the creature.
‘He was not with those who fell into the valley.’
‘Then it was our people who fell,’ Breth said sadly.
‘Yes.’
Tears flowed freely from the two bearded men. They stood there with their heads bowed and racking sobs coming from beneath their long and thick beards.
Then Breth addressed the Grim-were: ‘You have brought great misfortune on my people, Ezru. You should not have brought men to the stone steps, or into our world. But if what you say is true, then we will stand with you.’
The creature acknowledged him with what looked like a nod and then said simply, ‘We cannot delay our departure. Cutting the rope will only have delayed them.’
Breth and Kiltrevern gave each other a quick look, then moved towards the rope bridge. Brennus could feel a little of his strength returning, but didn’t protest when Breth placed him over his shoulder once more.
This time there was no iron ring attaching them to the bridge. Brennus felt his stomach turn upside down as he stared down into the Usway Valley below. The bridge was already swaying and then began to bounce erratically, making Brennus feel sick. He wondered whether they would ever make it across. Breth shifted his hold and for a terrifying moment Brennus thought he would fall. Then, as Breth tightened his grip, behind and somewhere out of sight he heard the gruff voice of Kiltrevern calling to his brother to steady the bridge.
Swinging precariously from side to side, slung over Breth’s shoulder, Brennus reflected that his entire world was now upside down. His brother was perhaps not to be trusted and he was having to rely on a creature whose kind had tried to kill him on the shores of the Dead Water and a pair of bearded men who claimed a Druid had once betrayed their people. And without them, he knew he wouldn’t be alive now.
A piercing horn blast shook the thoughts from his head, then the swaying stopped and he was again on firmer ground.
They had reached one of two hilltops named the Castles. Brennus took a deep breath of colder air and realised that the warmth of the sun had left the hill. Standing there, he felt exposed and vulnerable to attack. He was now facing the way they had come and could see two figures standing atop the distant tree-lined hilltop. Even at this distance he knew who they were. Whilst he could not use the flow like his brother, he could feel it recoil at their touch. He felt sick as he realised the Shadow Ruins had been waiting in the trees while Breth’s people had been tumbling into the valley below.
‘Look!’ he managed to shout, unable to take his eyes from the lightless figures standing unmoving on the distant crest. ‘They are coming!’
‘Cut the bridge!’ roared the voice of Breth.
Kiltrevern drew his huge axe and with a single ringing swing sheared the rope in two.
Again Brennus watched a bridge snake downwards into a valley. And though the distance they had placed between them and the wooded hilltop was remarkable, he knew the pursuit had only just begun. It was this that was troubling him most. He needed to get back to Sam and give him the guidance he deserved. He needed to speak to the Keepers and seek their counsel about the Staff of the Druids. And what about Oscar? Where did he fit into this madness?
When he looked back, the figures were gone and the sun was beginning its descent in the west. And he knew that no matter how many bridges they crossed and no matter how hard they ran, nightfall would bring great danger.
Ezru and the bearded men did not stop to chat now, but moved swiftly onward. It was clear to Brennus that they knew the nature of the danger that would not be stopped. This time Breth let Brennus walk between him and Kiltrevern, though every now and then, when the ground steepened, he would feel Kiltrevern’s strong arms pushing him up the hillside. But they didn’t stop, even when they came breathless to the second Castles summit.
The wind was now cold and the light had faded further still. For the first time, the bearded men seemed to be feeling the pace. Only the Grim-were looked unruffled. It was now covered in grey feathers from head to foot and Brennus couldn’t look at its contorted features. But for all that, he found himself feeling reassured by the creature’s presence.
Finally they halted and Breth and Ezru looked at each other.
‘You must close the path when we reach Bloodybush Edge,’ began Ezru, but before he could finish, Kiltrevern swung his axe in a lightning arc and it thudded into the rocky hilltop a foot away from the Grim-were.
‘Let it be known that I do not trust you, Ezru!’ he shouted. ‘Your mistress has brought much misery upon the Three Kingdoms. You bring men into our lands, pursued by the Ruin’s servants. And now our people have been killed!’
Breth stepped quickly forwards. ‘Let us not argue amongst ourselves. I understand your grief, Kiltrevern, and I share it. Ezru, though we believe that you are not as vile as some of your kind, you have brought darkness at your heels, and Kiltrevern is right to be wary of you. As for this man, if he is a Keeper of the Druids, we must trust him until we are proven wrong. So let us go forwards together.’
‘The only way,’ continued Ezru, as if nothing had happened, ‘to slow the Shadow Ruins is to find the secret paths through the Cheviots and then close them behind us. The Ruin’s servants are no longer in shadow. They now walk as the Grim-wolves who slept under the spell of the Dagda in the deep dark places.’
‘We will meet our elders at the stone circle, for only they have the power to close the secret ways,’ Breth said firmly. ‘Let us hope some of our people have got through with the message for them to meet us there.’
‘I do not think it likely,’ said the Grim-were.
‘We will see,’ said Breth firmly.
Meat and water were now passed round, and once he had eaten, Brennus felt his strength return.
The evening light was turning grey and there was a sharp wind blowing down from the north as the unlikely companions started their descent from the Castles, with Brennus now walking behind Ezru. They moved quickly, but Brennus knew it would be nightfall by the time they reached Bloodybush Edge. He didn’t like the idea of meeting the elders in the open. It wasn’t just the Shadow Ruins dressed in the bodies of the Grim-wolves that frightened him, it was Drust and Ezru’s words about their ability to bring the dead back to life. The very idea of dead bearded men coming out of the darkness with their axes sent a chill dread across his body…
An Unexpected Meeting
Jarl Reign was tired beyond anything he had known. The last week had taken him to the limits of his endurance. Now he was sitting with the heads of the Reiver families beneath a large oak on the very edge of the orchard, where the wall met Birling Wood. Its leaves were already falling gently around them, signalling the end of summer.
The ghostly company had stayed with the Reivers for a while. The woman with pale skin and grey eyes had told them that a great darkness had brought war to their lands and their queen had sent a company of her own guard to seek the help of the Faeries. On the edge of the Otherland, they had been met by the Shadow
and many of them had been killed. Those who had survived the onslaught had found themselves deep in the dead lands. They had come upon a lake there and had come through it. She would say little about this part of their journey, except that they had found an old man waiting for them on the other side. It was he who had sent them to follow the Shadow, saying it had come through the waters and would lead them to the Druids, who would help them.
The Reivers wanted to return to the wood to bury their dead, so Jarl had sent the ghostly company on to Alnmouth. The Reivers had been unable to follow the tracks that he hoped were Sam, Emily and Eagan’s, but there was a chance they were heading that way and he knew they would need any protection he could send to them.
The Reivers had then buried their dead. This had taken hours and been a grim business. As the sun had gone down, they had rested and had eaten the rich fruit from the orchard. Now the heads of the Bow, Raeshaw, Dun-Rig and Broadflow families were sitting in a circle. There was grief in their faces, a haunted look in their eyes. Most had wounds and bloodied clothes. They had lost Dwarrow, and Erin Dun-Rig took her uncle’s place. Only Ged Broadflow seemed uninjured. He sat there expressionless, a direct descendant of the weapon masters of old.
Braden Bow was pensive, his brown eyes dark, the scar on his cheek aflame. His clothes were ripped and bloodied. His sword was laid across his legs as if he was unable to sheath it. His clan had paid a heavy price and his people’s despair was displayed in the shadows beneath his eyes and the deep lines criss-crossing his face.
Jolan Raeshaw sat with his sister Bretta, who was still pale and shivering from the crow-men’s poison. She sat with a blanket wrapped around her, even though the sun had not completely set. The Raeshaws were the youngest of those gathered, but they had fought hard in battle. In their eyes Jarl could see an unshakable steadfastness, and yet every so often he could also see a flicker of bewilderment and fear.
Jarl began by speaking of how Brennus and Drust had been protecting Sam in Oxford. Then he spoke of Oscar’s message to Sam that the Circle was broken and the Fall was dying.
‘He told me that story last night,’ Bretta broke in, a frown on her face, ‘but I could scarcely believe it. Hasn’t Oscar been dead for a while?’
‘Yes,’ Jarl confirmed. ‘We don’t yet know how it is possible that he visited Sam.’
With a sigh, he went on to describe how Sam had been pursued by a Shadow in Oxford and Brennus and Drust had brought him north, only to be attacked by the crow-men at the Seven Stories, and how Brennus had decided to seek counsel at the Dead Water and to try and draw the Shadow away from Sam and towards them.
The Forest Reivers were dismayed by the news.
‘I can’t understand why Brennus or Drust would leave Sam to his own devices!’ cried Braden. ‘And what counsel would they receive in such a place?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Jarl miserably.
As he continued relating the events of the past few days, he couldn’t help wishing Brennus was there to guide them now. He was relieved when Braden told him he had met Eagan high in the Blindburn and was intrigued by their meeting with the old man.
‘There may be help coming from more quarters than we know,’ he commented.
‘But nothing makes sense, Jarl! We have lost friends and family, and for what?’ Jolan was wiping angry tears from his eyes.
‘Listen,’ Braden’s voice was low, but he spoke authoritatively, seeming to choose every word with great care. ‘Brennus and Drust didn’t go to the Dead Water on a fool’s errand. Nor did Sam and Emily come to this wood by chance. And it was no coincidence that the old man met me and Eagan in a place inaccessible to old men. The red mare has been seen beneath the Cheviot Hills. Whether we like it or not, war is coming. That much we can be sure about.’
‘Look around you,’ said Ged, breaking his silence for the first time, ‘it’s already here.’
The words brought a chill to those gathered.
‘That’s true enough,’ agreed Braden. ‘How many of our dead have we just buried?’
‘What I want to know,’ said Bretta, ‘is how we can defend ourselves against a magic that can bring the dead back to life? How can the Druids help us when they are scattered and seeking information? How can the grey company? There are so few of them. There must be another way.’
She sat back against the tree, clearly exhausted.
‘Bretta is right.’ Jolan, too, looked on the edge of collapse. He seemed to seesaw between anger and tears. ‘What are we even facing? I thought these crow-men were fireside tales!’
‘I hear you, Jolan,’ interrupted Jarl. ‘We didn’t expect things to deteriorate so quickly. We didn’t expect Oscar to bring the Shadow to Oxford, for a start. We still do not fully understand how this could have happened.’
‘It would be good to understand how it can move around.’ The words came from Erin, who had been silent until now. ‘How it can move so quickly.’
‘And where it is now,’ added Bretta.
All Jarl could do was nod in agreement.
‘How can we even be certain that it isn’t still here?’ Ged wondered. ‘I’m not a betting man, but I would bet that the Shadow had something to do with those marauding dead. One minute they were fighting, then boom and they dropped where they stood. How is that possible? We don’t even understand how they came back to life in the first place.’
‘I believe the Shadow has power over the dead,’ said Braden. ‘I think it followed Jarl to the King’s Seat. I think it believed he would lead it to Sam. I am fearful for Brennus and Drust. If they have faced the Shadow, then I don’t think we can expect them to come back. I am sorry to say that, but it threw our rangers down as if they were made of hollow wood. It let you live in the Usway Valley, Jarl. If it hadn’t wanted you alive, even with the help of the silver company, it would have been too much for you – I’m sure of it.’
‘So what can we do?’ asked Jolan.
‘I don’t know,’ Jarl admitted. ‘All I can think of is that we could stay at the stronghold of the Marcher Lords in Bamburgh. If the Shadow comes again, it won’t penetrate those walls quite as easily as the crumbling stones of the orchard.’
‘If it’s after Sam, it won’t go there unless it thinks he’s there,’ Braden said. ‘The question is, how long would he be safe there? Or anywhere? We really need to know why it’s pursuing him. We need to know for what purpose our people have perished.’
‘Yes, the question that needs answering,’ Jarl mused, ‘is where Sam and Emily will go next. If Eagan is with them, he may go to my wife’s brother in Howick.’
‘The real question,’ said Braden, ‘is how we help our people, Jarl. There are seriously wounded amongst them.’
‘Right, Braden, then let’s make for Howick Hall. It will have the space and staff to attend to them. My brother-in-law is steward there and can organise it. We can take the coastal path that is rarely used these days. We should stay here this evening and push on first thing tomorrow, when we have rested.’
‘Shouldn’t we press on now, whilst there’s still some light left?’ asked Erin. ‘We’ve left hundreds of dead crow-men by the wall. If they spring back to life, we’ll have little chance of stopping them.’
‘We’ll have little chance wherever we are,’ said Jarl, ‘and now Sam and Emily are no longer with us, I think we’ll be safe enough.’
‘There was a woman amongst the crow-men,’ Bretta remembered. ‘She was frightening and beautiful all at the same time.’ She pulled her blanket even more tightly around her. ‘She appeared to be the crow-men’s leader. When she questioned me, it was as if she could read my mind. I’ve never met anyone like her.’
‘What did she ask you?’ Erin said, leaning forwards.
‘Where the girl was. She was hunting the girl. She wasn’t interested in the boy. They were fighting us to get to the girl. I’m not sure what she wante
d her for, but I do know that nothing will stop her.’
Jarl rose to his feet. ‘We must tend to the wounded and make our move to Howick. And if that is not Eagan’s plan, I will search the Northumberland wilderness until I find him.’
‘I think we have to find them all before this so-called woman and her murdering crows get there first,’ added Erin.
‘You’re right,’ agreed Braden. ‘But I think the greater danger is this Shadow. What is it that can bring the dead back to life?’
No one had an answer.
As the shadows grew long around them, the Reivers made camp for the night in the orchard.
* * * * * *
The next morning saw Jarl leading them along a slender path that snaked its way down to the sea. Braden followed him and behind them came the Reiver horses bearing the wounded. Next came the walking wounded, many in number, helped by those less injured. Bringing up the rear were Ged Broadflow and Erin Dun-Rig.
Emerging from the winding path, they crossed the Aln in single file. It had taken a while to break camp and the sun was already high in the sky. The going was slow, for the healers amongst the Reivers had to tend to those poisoned by the crow-men. They rested often and every now and then Jarl would send Ged and Jolan scouting ahead. Somewhere in the area was the horde of crow-men, perhaps thousands in number, and with so many wounded amongst them, the Reivers were in no shape to fight. Even those who were uninjured were grief-stricken, and their tears flowed along the path.
As the day wore on and the sun began to set over the Northumberland hills, Jarl realised they would have to make camp once more. He called Ged to him.
‘We can’t go on like this,’ he said in a low voice, anxious not to disturb those around him. ‘Can you go out and scout for a place where we could rest safely until dawn?’
Ged nodded.
‘Don’t take Jolan this time – leave him with Bretta. She’s looking very poorly.’
Ged nodded a second time, then moved quickly along the dirt path. To his right he could see the waves rolling in from the sea, smell the salt on the air and feel the chill breeze on his face. He was used to being by the water, as he had spent part of the year on Iona before travelling to Holy Island, where he always spent the summer solstice with the Order of Lindisfarne. He had stayed there for several weeks this time and had seen the comings and goings of the Marcher Lords from Bamburgh and Alnwick. On Holy Island itself, there had been uneasy murmurings, and now, as he moved stealthily through the dimming light, he realised the island had been preparing for an attack. Perhaps news had reached them that the borderland was full of creeping shadows. Or more than shadows. Three days ago he hadn’t dreamed he would be fighting crow-men. He hadn’t thought he would be watching them come back from the dead either.
