A Time of Courage

by John Gwynne

  Byrne squeezed Drem’s arm.

  ‘You live,’ she panted.

  He nodded, numb, turned to the white bear. It stood beside Hammer, lowered his head to nudge the female bear.

  Hammer rumbled a mournful growl.

  All about the courtyard a silence fell, only the wind, the rumbling growls of bears.

  Drem moved to inspect the white bear’s wounds. Ice shifted in his belly as he saw countless puncture wounds made by Revenant fangs. He knew what that meant, had seen what had become of Giluf, and so quickly.

  ‘I am sorry,’ he whispered. ‘I should never have brought you here. I should have left you north of the river.’

  One of Byrne’s honour guard stepped close to them. ‘They are all the same,’ the warrior said. ‘Every bear that still breathes bears the same wounds.’

  Drem knew where this conversation was going to go. The only logical answer was to kill the bears now. To put them out of their misery before the Revenants’ infection took hold.

  Gulla’s infection.

  But he could not do it. To take a blade to the white bear, after all they had been through, after the loyalty and friendship this creature had shown him.

  Alcyon was on his knees beside Hammer, cradling her head.

  Byrne put a hand to her sword hilt.

  ‘There is another way,’ Drem said desperately.

  ‘What way?’ Byrne said. ‘I pray there is, for this is a task I cannot abide.’

  ‘Arvid. We must find her and we must kill her. Now.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  RIV

  Riv wiped blood and sweat from her brow, stepping closer to listen to Drem and Byrne. Byrne was talking about killing the surviving bears.

  They have been bitten by these mist-walkers, are infected with their disease. It is the logical thing to do, but . . .

  She looked at the white bear, then around the courtyard. Many of the bears were already dead, but more were standing.

  How can we kill them? They are so . . . noble, and we need them.

  ‘How can we kill Arvid?’ Byrne muttered, frowning. ‘She could be anywhere.’

  ‘I saw her,’ Riv said. ‘In the street beyond the gate. Hadran and I tried to kill her, but she fled. Hadran followed her.’

  ‘But that does not help us,’ Byrne said. ‘Where is she now? Where is Hadran?’

  Riv looked around. She had glimpsed Hadran close to Meical.

  ‘Hadran,’ she called.

  ‘I am here,’ Hadran said.

  ‘Arvid. Where is she?’ Riv asked.

  ‘I followed her,’ Hadran said. ‘While the gate and wall were assaulted she led a force of Revenants north-west, around the fortress, circling it. They reached the river and found a tunnel.’

  ‘What?’ Byrne said. ‘Where? Describe the tunnel?’

  ‘To the north of the fortress,’ Hadran said, ‘west of the bridge. It is on the riverbank, concealed by an overhang of trees and roots.’

  ‘How did they find out about that . . .?’ Byrne broke off, her face pale. ‘We must go, now. Hadran, would you do me the service of flying to the keep and telling Kill what you have just told me. She will know what to do.’

  ‘The keep is swarming with Revenants; how will I get in?’

  ‘A window high on the north side of the tower, it is my chamber. There are not enough Revenants here to build their tower of bodies that high.’

  Hadran nodded.

  ‘Warriors, with me,’ Byrne cried. She slung her shield across her back and set off at a run, shouting orders, calling out the names of those she wanted to stay and tend to the injured bears.

  Drem shared a look with Riv, turned and buried his face in the white bear’s fur.

  ‘I’ll be back soon,’ he said. ‘Don’t you dare die on me.’ Then he was setting off after Byrne, weapons still gripped in his fists.

  ‘Here, I found you a new spear,’ Riv said, handing her weapon to Hadran.

  ‘My thanks,’ he said, dipping his head. ‘I’ll try and keep hold of this one.’

  Meical alighted beside them, along with the other Ben-Elim. Eight were there, where there had been twelve.

  ‘Where is Byrne going?’ Meical asked.

  ‘Arvid, the chief of these Revenants, has entered a tunnel to the north of the fortress. Kill her and they all die.’

  Meical nodded.

  ‘Good. A chance to finish this, then. Let’s do it,’ he said, and spread his wings, launching into the air. Hadran’s wings took him into the sky, though he veered away from the other Ben-Elim, flying towards the keep.

  Riv felt a wave of weariness, the muscles in her back that powered her wings were burning, but she ignored it and followed after Meical. She was eager to finish this, too. The way the Order had fought against these creatures had filled her with respect for them: their bravery, and their military strategy. She had seen how the Revenant hosts in Forn had rolled over the defenders of Drassil. Byrne and the Order had proved that these creatures could be defeated, or at the very least, that they could be fought and held.

  She caught up with Meical and the other Ben-Elim, then with a shift of her wings she spiralled upwards. Moon and stars shone silver beyond ragged clouds, the air fresh up here, as if the rain had washed the grime of the world away. Below her Dun Seren was a place of dark shadow and silvered moon-glow. The keep sat dark and sullen, pockets of light leaking from shuttered windows. Riv could see Revenants like ants massed in the courtyard before the keep’s doors, others climbing upon the walls, but it looked as if the keep was still secure. Immediately below her, Byrne and her small band – twenty or thirty strong – were making their way through darkened streets, skirting around the hill Dun Seren was built upon and then down the slope towards the northern boundary of the fortress. Riv swept ahead, dropping lower, checking for Revenants in Byrne’s path.

  There were none, all of them seemingly concentrated on the assault of the keep.

  Or with Arvid, their leader. In this tunnel Hadran spoke of.

  Riv rejoined them at the northern wall, Byrne and her group pausing to unbar a smaller gate, the iron hinges creaking as it swung open. Then they were out on the riverbank amidst a tangle of boathouses and barns, the smell of pitch and pine resin thick in the air. The river was dense with tied rafts of timber: trees felled from Forn Forest and floated here for trade. They rose and fell, clunking together in the swell and heave of the river.

  Byrne led her crew along the riverbank; she clearly knew the exact location of the tunnel Hadran had spoken of and led them unerringly through the trees and undergrowth. She paused for a moment and then, pushing through a dense thicket of branches, disappeared from view.

  Riv saw the other Ben-Elim dip out of the sky and vanish into the treeline. She followed Meical into the shadows.

  There was a narrow path that looked like a fox trail, and Riv followed Meical’s back through a snare of branch and thicket. The path sloped down towards a wall of reeds, then cut under an overhang of earth where exposed tree roots as thick as Riv’s waist curled in and out, looking like dark wyrms burrowing through the earth. To her right, willow branches draped in thick curtains.

  Sound changed, echoing, as they entered a tunnel, the darkness slick and dense as oil, a sense of weight around her oppressive and sinister. Riv bumped into Meical’s back as he stopped suddenly. The air had changed, though Riv could see no further than her outstretched hand. It was less oppressive and stifling.

  A whispered word.

  ‘Lasair,’ and a spark of light, followed by a sharp crackle of flame as a torch ignited. Byrne was holding it high. She touched it to another torch set into a sconce in the wall, light flaring, and Balur lifted it out, touched it to more torches hidden in the wall, took them and handed them out. Meical took one.

  Riv blinked and looked around.

  They were in a chamber. The floor was raw-carved rock, the walls braced with flagstone, earth oozing between slabs. It was wide enough for all of them, and mo
re besides. The torchlight did not penetrate high enough to reveal the roof.

  Byrne turned and looked at them.

  ‘I don’t know how Arvid knows of this tunnel, for it is a secret way into Dun Seren. It leads directly up into the keep. Arvid will try to enter the keep, to surprise and slay those within, but thanks to Hadran –’ she nodded to Meical and the Ben-Elim – ‘we are forewarned, and now Kill will prepare a welcome for them. If they reach that far. We are here to make sure that Arvid does not escape.’ Byrne paused, drew in a deep breath. ‘Arvid cannot escape. She must die in here, tonight. We know what’s at stake if she does not.’ She looked at the warriors gathered about her, including Ethlinn and Balur, a handful of other giants, and Meical and the Ben-Elim. Her gaze hovered on Riv a few moments longer. ‘We of the Order have sworn our oaths and sealed them in our blood, pledged ourselves to truth and courage. But you who have not said the words, I know that you are the same as us, in your hearts. Warriors, brothers and sisters bound to a cause. Otherwise you would not be here now, standing at our side, risking your lives. This is the sharp edge of who we are. We will stand and fight, together. There is no retreat this time. We win or we die.’

  Riv felt her blood stir at Byrne’s words. She had always thought of the Order of the Bright Star as the White-Wings’ rivals, a faction of warriors who were inferior in every way. The truth was something altogether different. Riv had come to respect their martial prowess, but more than that, she respected them. She respected their values and their courage. It made her ashamed of her upbringing and her opinion of them, and made her wish that she were one of them. And in Byrne’s momentary glance and few words, she suddenly felt that she was one of them. Bound by something deeper than Elyon’s Lore.

  ‘Truth and Courage,’ Byrne said, and turned, leading them into the darkness.

  ‘Truth and Courage,’ Riv whispered, though it must have been loud enough for Meical to hear, because he turned and gave her a quizzical look.

  She glared defiantly back at him.

  Byrne led them on, a handful of torches leading the way, Meical holding his torch high just in front of Riv. They left the huge chamber and padded into a narrower tunnel, though it was still wide enough for seven or eight abreast, the roof just visible in the flickering torchlight. Water gathered and dripped from rocks above, and huge worms oozed from the damp earth where roots had cracked the stone. The scrape of their footsteps echoed around them. Riv felt frustrated at the back of their group; Balur’s bulk all but obscured her view of anything else.

  A sound ahead of them. Byrne held up her hand, their short column rippled to a halt.

  ‘What is it?’ Riv whispered.

  ‘If you’d keep silent, we’d have more chance of finding out,’ Meical said. Riv bit back an angry retort and kept quiet, mostly because she knew he was right and wanted to know what was happening up ahead.

  Shouts. A scream. The clash of arms.

  ‘Quickly,’ Byrne called out, and then their party was moving more swiftly through the tunnel, Riv’s wings twitching with the urge to fly. The sounds of combat grew louder, a corner turned in the tunnel and they spilt into another chamber, this one far larger than the first. They spread either side of Byrne, staring at the scene before them. Torches flickered on walls, the room filled with swirling shadows, on the ground, in the air, all around her there was constant, chaotic movement.

  At its centre was a stone pedestal, before it a long table that had been overturned. It was on fire, flame and black smoke billowing from it in sheets. Chairs were strewn about the table. Riv noticed all this with a fleeting glance, her eyes drawn to the people in the room.

  There were Revenants everywhere, surging about the room like a kicked nest of ants, climbing the walls, a great knot of them swarming at the far end of the chamber. It was impossible to tell how many of them there were: a hundred and fifty, two hundred? The smoke and flame made all chaos, and something else was adding to Riv’s confusion. The Revenants were fighting other people.

  People with wings.

  Even as Riv stared, her eyes trying to make sense of what she was seeing, a figure swooped through the air above her, the wind of its wings shifting her warrior braid. A Revenant that had half-climbed the wall, long talons puncturing stone and hard-packed soil, launched itself away from the wall and slammed into the winged creature, the two of them spiralling down and crashing to the ground, an explosion of dust. The two figures rolled, thrashing, the Revenant’s distended jaws latching about the other’s throat. The winged warrior stabbed at its attacker, a burst of blue fire as its knife pierced flesh, but the Revenant did not let go. The sharp tang of blood as its head wrenched, and the winged warrior was slumping, weapon falling from its grip.

  They came to a halt before Riv, the Revenant atop the winged creature. It looked up at Riv, dark blood coating its lips and chin. Its muscles contracted as it bunched, leaping at Riv, and Meical’s spear took it through the throat, blue fire crackling. A gurgled hiss and the Revenant was slumping at Riv’s feet, its head landing on her boot.

  She was hardly aware of any of it, her eyes fixed on the winged creature before her. A woman, tall, lean muscles, a bow fallen from her dead fingers. Riv stared at her wings. Dark feathers. Not a Kadoshim half-breed, as had been her first thought.

  Feathers. Her wings are made of feathers.

  Meical stared, frowning.

  ‘What is this?’ he said.

  ‘She is a Ben-Elim half-breed, like me,’ Riv whispered.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  DREM

  Drem froze for a moment, staring into the chamber. Fire and smoke, blood and death. Momentarily he had been pleased to step out of the relentless claustrophobia of the tunnel, the sense of weight all about him constricting his chest and causing him to walk with one hand almost permanently taking his pulse, but the rolling black clouds of smoke and the snarl of bodies in the chamber made his relief short-lived.

  He had been here once before, brought by Byrne. That journey had started from Byrne’s chamber high up in the keep. On that visit the oak and stone table had been set before a stone pedestal and upon that had been a thick leather-bound book. A guarded, treasured secret of the Order of the Bright Star, from which a select handful learned the ways of earth magic and became Elementals, able to exert some measure of control over earth, air, fire and water.

  The pedestal was enfolded in smoke and flame.

  ‘No,’ Byrne gasped.

  She moved forwards, sword and shield in her fists. Utul, Shar and a dozen others spreading behind her like a trailing cloak. Byrne looked back at Drem.

  ‘Find Arvid,’ she growled.

  Drem was moving, Cullen and Keld beside him.

  Byrne and her companions hit the Revenants like a silent wave, an explosion of blue fire as their blades struck. The Revenants had their backs to them, their attention focused on the figures swooping down from the rooftop. There must have been more of these winged warriors holding the tunnel exit at the far side of the chamber, because Revenants were congested there, a heaving mass trying to break through, some using their talons to scramble up the walls, trying to reach the tunnel that way. Drem saw a dark-winged warrior filling the space, stabbing with a spear, a flare of blue light.

  They have rune-marked blades.

  What are they? They have feathers, but they are not white, like the Ben-Elim. Are they half-breeds, like Riv? Drem remembered his only visit to this chamber, how he had felt that he was being watched, and how a huge brown feather had floated down out of the darkness.

  They are the guardians Byrne spoke of.

  Then he was amongst the Revenants, his shield slung across his back, seax and hand-axe in his fists. He chopped and stabbed left and right, ripples of blue fire stuttering around him. For half a dozen heartbeats he and his companions carved a wedge into the Revenants, but then the creatures were turning, realizing they were attacked from behind, throwing themselves at Drem and the others in frenzied fury.

/>   One leaped at Cullen, talons reaching, and Drem chopped one of its hands off at the wrist. The creature howled; Cullen smashed it in the face with his shield, sending it staggering backwards, and Keld stepped in and buried his sword in the thing’s belly. They fought together, the three of them, Drem losing track of the chamber around him, Byrne and the others lost from view as he, Keld and Cullen formed a half-circle and step by step cut their way into the Revenant rearguard. Two Revenants forced a gap between Drem and Cullen’s shields, broke them apart, another creature clawing at Drem, blood appeared on his thigh below his mail coat. Drem struck at its head; his wrist was caught in a taloned grip, pale face and gaping maw lunging at him.

  An arrow crunched into the creature’s skull, a blue flash, and dark wings swept over Drem.

  I need to find Arvid. No point just fighting blind.

  He quickly glanced around. All was smoke and chaos, flame-cast shadows, Revenants all around him, giving no sense of how the fight was going. He searched the room, glimpsed the stone pedestal ahead of him.

  ‘Keld, Cullen,’ he called as he lurched forwards, cutting into the skull of a Revenant rolling on the ground with one of Byrne’s honour guard. Keld and Cullen pushed forwards either side of him, the three of them breaching a way through the havoc. Flames from a burning chair gave a little space – Revenants were avoiding it. Drem leaped over the chair, through the flames, ran on through a black cloud of smoke billowing off the table, and then he was at the pedestal. It was as broad as a tree at the base, with a flat top about as high as his chest. He slipped his axe into a leather loop on his belt and gripped the top, shook his foot at Cullen.

  ‘What?’ Cullen said, then stabbed a Revenant.

  Keld stepped forwards and cupped his hands for Drem’s boot, hoisting him up. He clambered onto the pedestal, stood straight, wobbled a moment, then found his balance.

  Directly ahead of him he could see the bulk of Balur and Ethlinn, black figures swarming them, Balur bellowing. Byrne was close to them, a handful of her honour guard about her, another island in a sea of Revenants. To his right Drem caught the flash of Utul’s flaming sword, Shar fighting with her back to him. Bodies were piled around them, but there seemed like no end to the creatures. Winged warriors were still swooping in and out of the darkness above, loosing arrows, stabbing with spears. Drem saw a Revenant scale the mound of the dead around Utul and Shar and leap, slamming into a winged warrior, the two of them spinning and crashing to the ground.