“A little bit.”
“He wanted them to know how you were doing, so he decided to go find them,” Corin said. “And he thought your sister might want an uncle.”
Gwilym pondered the statement. “Will he ever come back?”
“No, but you’ll be able to find him one day,” Corin said. “And as long as you carry that knife, you’ll have a part of him.”
Gwilym clutched it harder. “You won’t go away with him, will you, Uncle Cor?” A note of terror filled his voice.
“No, Trey and Liam and I will be around for a long time because we promised Uncle Martin we would.” Corin’s throat tightened as he spoke.
But Gwilym was finally reassured and fell asleep. Corin took one of Martin’s cloaks and covered the young boy with it before leaving the room.
Chapter 12
Early the next morning, the Hawk Flight rode out. The dead had been carefully placed in wagons. Even the wounded were going, refusing to stay behind while their brothers were laid to rest.
Trey and Gwilym also rode with them. “The lad should see the Lieutenant buried,” many of the warband had said, and so Gwilym had come. They rode all day without stopping. Gwilym was tired but, wide-eyed in the company of the men, he would not complain. They reached the caves by late that afternoon. Flynn and his men awaited them, also bearing their dead.
Graves were dug, and the bodies buried in silence and spears were planted to mark their place. Martin was not buried in the clearing with the others. Corin had chosen a place by the caves overlooking the sunken valley.
They lowered Martin’s body into the grave. He had been dressed in the uniform of the Hawk Flight, and his father’s belt that he had worn for a time as General was across his chest. Trey placed Martin’s sword over him, and Corin put a grey hawk feather with it. Then they both took a handful of dirt and cast it into the grave, saying their last goodbyes. Gwilym did the same, and Corin barely heard the words “Good-bye, Father.”
Trey turned away as the rest of the warband filed by, doing the same and bidding farewell to another brother.
When the grave was filled in and the spear set, the warband went inside the caves, each taking their place at the tables set in the main cavern. Beakers of cold stream water were set at each place though many stood empty. Corin took his place at the head table. Gwilym stood with him, and Trey took Martin’s place. Corin lay a scroll on the table in front of him.
“This paper might hold their names but we will always keep them in our hearts. We know each one, and it is our duty to remember. Others may forget, the spears may rot, but we place new ones. We carry on the task that they have finished. Let us remember until we see them again.”
Gwilym watched solemnly as Corin began to call the names of the dead, and the man by the empty place answered “Here,” raising their beaker and toasting the missing warrior. The list was long; they had lost almost half of the warband.
When Corin came to the last name “Martin, son of Deiniol,” his voice faltered but, before Trey or Liam could reply, a small voice answered. Every man standing drank to their dead Lieutenant. After a brief silence, Corin spoke again.
“Before he died, Lieutenant Martin named his successor. At first I was surprised at his choice, but then I realized that he chose well. I would honor his last request. Ian,” he called.
Ian came forward, a look of shock on his face. Corin handed him the silver hawk feather of a lieutenant.
“But, Captain,” Ian protested. “I can’t…I’m not ready!”
“Ian, I spoke with every man in the patrol, and they all agreed with Lieutenant Martin. As I said, I couldn’t have chosen better myself,” Corin told him.
Men murmured quiet congratulations to Ian as they left the cave to return to their horses. Andras helped Evan limp out. Evan had been wounded on the walls, and Andras was the one that had found him. They said nothing to each other, still struck by the somber ritual they had witnessed. But there was a quiet friendship growing between them. Evan’s confidence had grown, and both he and Andras had become hardened warriors over the past few months.
Andras helped Evan to mount. Trey passed by at that moment and gave them both a nod. It was the respect one warrior gave to another.
Trey and Gwilym began the journey back to Kingscastle with the wounded while Corin led the rest on one final patrol. They made camp at sunset, eating and resting.
Corin woke before dawn. Unable to sleep again, he rose and walked some distance from the camp. A small stream gurgled, and he came to stand by it. The setting moon cast shadows through the trees and in the distance a wolf howled to his companions. The scimitar weighed heavy in Corin’s hands, and he let it slip from his hands. He sank down against a tree as he began to weep.
He wept for Martin. He wept for the men who had died. For the widows and orphans created by war. For those he had killed, and those he couldn’t save. For Castimir. For the destruction wreaked by war. He wept for Gwilym who had lost another part of his family. He wept until he could no more.
Karif landed on the sheath of the fallen sword. Corin looked up and saw that the dawn had come. He listened in silence as the birds began their song to greet the new day. He let it comfort him as it had since he had come back to Aredor. After a long moment he rose and washed the traces of tears from his face. He took up his sword and returned to camp.
They arrived at Kingscastle later that day, and Laird Dandin came in as Corin finished his report to Darrin.
“Now that the dead have been laid tae rest, we will play them tae Lleu’s Halls. The Clans will all be there and we would have you and your men there as well,” Dandin said to them.
“We would be honored,” Darrin said. “Who will do it?”
“The Bards chose Tam,” Dandin said. “It will begin at sundown.”
He left and Corin was finally free to find Aiden.
Chapter 13
Aiden woke the day after the battle, taking a long moment to orient himself. Beds filled with wounded men lined the walls beside him, but he had no clear memory of coming there. His body ached under numerous bandages and his right hand was held in a heavy splint. He couldn’t remember how that had happened either. There was one moment that he could recall with horrifying clarity: Rona lying in his arms—dead.
Why her? he thought angrily. Hadn’t enough people in his life died already? He seemed to bring death wherever he went. He couldn’t move, and he didn’t want to. The most precious thing in his life was now gone. The grief pounded away at him as he lay there in a haze. Sleep brought little relief.
The next day was worse. Ranulf came to see him, and Aiden would not speak any more than the necessary answers. Ranulf did not speak of her, and Aiden was grateful. The day passed as the one before it. Aiden barely noticed as someone changed the bandages. None of the Clan came. They were busy, or Ranulf kept them away. Aiden didn’t care. He didn’t want to see anyone. He shut out the world and slept.
When he finally awoke, he saw that it was morning again. The light seemed clearer than it had before, and he sat up slowly. He heard footsteps and saw Will coming toward him.
“Shirking work as usual, I see.” Will took a seat in the chair by the bed.
“Old habits die hard,” Aiden replied, finding his voice again.
“You don’t look half as bad as Tam made it out tae be.”
“Shouldn’t you know by now that he still exaggerates everything?” Aiden asked, and Will chuckled. “When did you get here?”
“Late last night,” Will replied. “Corin should be back sometime soon.”
Corin. Aiden felt a little guilty. How is he? He had looked terrible during the battle, and Aiden felt a faint twinge of worry.
“I heard Kara went and got the Clans from the Gathering. I assume Rona was there. How is she?” Will asked.
Aiden froze. He would have to tell Will. “She’s dead.”
“What?” Will stared in disbelief.
Aiden told him what happened in halting
sentences, feeling again the terrible pain like a knife twisting in his heart.
“Danny, I’m sorry. I know you…”
“I loved her, Will. And she’s gone,” Aiden said bitterly. “What do I do now?”
“Well, you can’nae stay here forever, Aiden. I don’t think she’d let you,” Will said. “When was the last time you ate?”
Aiden shrugged.
“Too long ago,” a woman said, and he recognized Mera.
He saw from her stricken face that she had also heard the news. But she offered no sympathy, seeing he didn’t want it.
“That settles it, then. I’ll go and find you something.” Will left before Aiden could protest.
“Let him. He’s worried about you,” Mera said.
“I guess I am a little hungry,” Aiden said.
“That’s a good sign.” Mera smiled. “How’s your hand feeling?”
“I don’t even know what happened,” Aiden admitted.
“It’s broken. You took a hard blow to your hand, but I’m hoping it will heal completely. Just don’t try to use it,” she said.
“I’ll try and remember that.”
“Good, and by tomorrow you should be able to get up and walk around a bit. It would do you good,” Mera said.
He didn’t miss the hint in her voice. She left, and Will returned soon after. Aiden was hungrier than he thought and ate quickly as he and Will engaged in aimless conversation. He finished and looked to his brother.
“Will, I know she was your friend too, and I’m sorry.” Aiden swallowed hard.
Will nodded wordlessly. “We’ll remember her properly when the time is right.”
When his brother left, Aiden slept again.
He woke to the sound of several voices. Corin was in the room talking with several of the men. They laughed over something and then Corin saw that he was awake. He left them and sat in the chair.
“Sorry if we woke you,” he said.
Aiden shook his head, pushing himself upright. “I was beginning tae think you had forgotten me.”
“I’ve been trying to come for several days,” Corin said.
“Well, I hope you know that I’m deeply offended,” Aiden said, and Corin smiled.
“How are you doing?” he asked.
“I could feel better,” Aiden replied.
Corin paused for a moment, then said, “Aiden, Mera told me about…Rona. I’m sorry.”
“Everyone keeps saying that but it won’t bring her back!” Aiden snapped, his anger at her death flaring again.
“You can’t act like you’re the only one here who’s lost someone,” Corin replied, an edge to his voice.
“And what do you expect me to do?” Aiden was almost shouting.
“There are still people here who care about you, and you can’t sit here and shut them out. Hard as it is, you have to accept it. Death comes every day, and we can’t stop it!” Corin replied, his own temper fraying.
“You sound like Azrahil!” Aiden sneered.
“And you think I don’t know what it feels like to lose someone?” Corin shouted.
The room was frozen in silence as they glared at each other. Then Corin spoke. “The Clans’ ceremony is tonight. Tam is playing the Lament. You should be there.” His voice was tight as he turned and left.
Aiden felt a pang of remorse as he watched Corin go, realizing that they had never argued like that before.
“I think you know him well enough to not let that lie for long,” a man said beside Aiden.
“What do you mean?” Aiden turned to him.
“You were arguing in Calorin, and the captain usually doesn’t do that. And if you are who I think you are, then you both need your closest friend right about now.”
“Who are you?” Aiden asked.
“Let’s just say I’ve been with the warband almost since the beginning,” he said meaningfully.
Aiden saw that the man had recognized him from his involvement in the first war.
“What happened?” Aiden asked quietly.
“You should ask him yourself.” And the warrior would say no more.
Someone had left Aiden’s bag and weapons by the bed and, as evening drew near, he dressed in clean clothes, fumbling with only one good hand. Finally finished, he limped slowly from the room and through the castle to the courtyard. Already tired, he leaned against one of the pillars by the main doors.
The courtyard and walls were full of Clan warriors and Aredorian soldiers, standing silently. Only the west wall stood empty. When it was time, Tam mounted the steps, carrying the bagpipes. He was dressed simply, bearing no sword or armor. A white cloak was clasped around his shoulders. As the sun began to set, he raised the bagpipes and began to play.
It was a wildly haunting melody, giving voice to the sorrow and loss. The Laments of each of the five Clans were twined into it, honoring each man that had fallen. Those that listened wept as Tam played, and the sun set over the graves of friends and comrades. Tears streaked Tam’s face, for he alone saw them: a long line of warriors passing into the sun on their journey beyond the world.
Aiden stood dry-eyed as the music washed over him and softened his heart. She was at peace now, but it would be a long time before he could be. The final notes lingered as the last edge of the sun dropped below the horizon. Men dispersed in silence, and Aiden waited for Corin. Corin didn’t see Aiden in the dim light until he spoke.
“Corin.” Aiden stepped toward him as Corin stopped. “Look, I’m sorry.”
“I’m not blameless either, so forget what I said,” Corin said.
“No, most of it was true. I just can’nae figure out how tae go on,” Aiden said quietly. He saw the same look in Corin’s eyes. “Who?” he asked somberly.
“We buried Martin yesterday,” Corin replied.
“I’m so sorry, Cor. He was a good man,” Aiden said. He had seen how close Martin and Corin were, and he had enjoyed the lieutenant’s company.
“One of the best,” Corin agreed with a faltering voice.
Torches were lit around them as the guard began to change.
“Zayd’s spear! You look awful, Corin,” Aiden said. He hadn’t noticed much earlier that day.
Corin smiled tiredly. “You’re one to talk. Do you need help getting back?”
“No, I’ll make Tam help me. I should talk tae him. I’ve been avoiding him too.”
“All right. And, Aiden, if you need anything…” Corin said.
Aiden nodded. “Thanks.”
Corin disappeared inside. Tam saw Aiden and came up the steps.
“Should you even be out here?” Tam asked.
“You know how well I follow orders,” Aiden replied.
“You going tae be all right?” Tam rested a hand on his shoulder.
Aiden couldn’t quite manage a smile. “It will take a while.”
“Here.” Tam reached into his pouch. “I took this before we buried her. I thought you might like tae have it.” He handed Aiden Rona’s necklace.
He had never seen her without it. He ran his thumb over the carved swallow, remembering what he had told her that day in the stables. He held it tightly as if he could hold a part of her again.
“Thank you.”
* * *
He dreamed of her that night: perfect and alive.
“You going tae lie there for the rest of your life?” She smiled teasingly.
“Why you?” he asked.
“Och, I already told you why.”
“What if I can’nae go on?” He reached out to her.
“You will, or I’ll haunt you until you hate me and beg me tae leave.” She smiled merrily.
He wanted to laugh, but couldn’t yet.
“Oh, come on, Aiden!”She was exasperated. “You’re making me depressed, and I’m dead.”
“Rona,” he said.
“Good-bye, my love,” she said, and turned and faded away.
Chapter 14
Darrin entered Corin’s room and thre
w open the curtains. Corin loosed a muffled yell from the bed as sunlight flooded the room.
“There had better be a very good reason for this!” He pulled a pillow away from his face.
“You’ve been in here for almost two days,” Darrin said.
“People need to sleep,” Corin returned.
“You say that every time, and you have. Come on. We have some visitors who want to meet you,” Darrin said.
Corin groaned as he rolled over. “Tell them I’m not here.”
“Too late, and I brought food,” Darrin said.
Corin sat up. “I hate you for knowing me so well.”
Darrin smiled as Corin rose and limped to the table. Darrin sat with him as he began to eat.
“Who’s coming?” Corin asked.
“Some Calorin and Raider ships attacked the coast. Tristan said another ship came out of nowhere and took on the Raiders. The captain wants to meet us.”
“Is Tris here?” Corin asked.
“No, he sent them with an escort. And Trey said he wants to leave soon.”
“How’s Gwilym?”
“About as well as can be expected,” Darrin said. “Kara and Tam have helped keep him occupied.”
“What about the Clans?”
“They plan to leave sometime next week,” Darrin said.
“How will we be able to repay them?” Corin asked somberly.
“I don’t know. But we’ll worry about that another time. You don’t get to ask any more questions, Cor. How are you doing?” Darrin asked.
Corin leaned back in the chair. “I’m holding up. Don’t worry about me, Darrin.”
“No, I will.”
“Fine. I just…why him?” Corin rubbed at his right palm.
“I wish I could tell you. He’s going to be missed.”
“I know. I’ll figure out a way to move on eventually.” He took a shaky breath and looked up.
“Is there anything I can do?” his brother asked.
“Just tell me what needs to be done.”
“Clean up. You have about half an hour before the audience with the captain,” Darrin said.
“I guess that means I should hurry,” Corin said.
The Wildcat of Braeton Page 38
