A Time of Courage

by John Gwynne

  There are too many of them.

  A Revenant hurled itself up at Drem. Cullen crunched his shield into it, sending it careening away, rolling, scrambling on the ground. A shouted order from Keld, and Fen and Ralla rushed in from the shadows, tearing at an arm and leg, Keld stepping forwards and chopping into the Revenant’s face.

  ‘Whatever you’re doing up there, make it quick,’ Keld called up to Drem. ‘You’re making a target of yourself.’

  ‘Stay up there as long as you want,’ Cullen said, grinning as another figure launched itself at Drem. He swung his sword, chopping through its neck into clavicle bone. The Revenant collapsed in a heap, dragging Cullen’s trapped sword with it. Keld stepped over Cullen, covering him with his shield while Cullen tried to wrench his blade free of the dying creature.

  ‘Ignore the idiot who can’t even keep hold of his own sword, and hurry up,’ Keld shouted up to Drem.

  Drem kept searching, and then he saw her.

  ‘ARVID!’ he bellowed at the top of his lungs. He saw Ethlinn’s head turn towards him, Utul’s as well, and he pointed towards the far end of the chamber, to the right of the exit, where Revenants were crammed tight, all of them fighting to get at whoever was holding the tunnel’s entrance.

  Arvid was there, a knot of motionless Revenants guarding her. It was their stillness that had drawn Drem’s eyes. He saw a winged man swoop down out of the shadows, thrusting a spear close to Arvid. She pointed with her axe and half a dozen of the stationary guard around her burst into motion, scuttling up the wall, stabbing their long talons into the earth of the walls and then launching themselves into the air. Four of them missed the flying warrior, two of them crunched into it, teeth and talons raking. The warrior fell from the air in an explosion of feathers. Drem watched as the man was dragged struggling to Arvid. She reached down and grabbed him by the throat, effortlessly lifting him up in front of her. The man kicked and punched. Arvid opened her mouth unnaturally wide and bit into his face. A high-pitched scream cut through the clamour in the chamber, then the warrior’s arms and legs were slumping.

  Arvid threw the corpse away.

  Drem felt a wave of nausea, and anger.

  He jumped from the pedestal, landed unsteadily and broke into a run. He heard the thump of Keld and Cullen’s boots behind him, the snarling of Fen and Ralla. A Revenant loomed out of the smoke and he chopped and slashed, axe into the face, seax across the chest. It reeled away and Drem was holding his breath through billowing smoke, bursting out of it to see Arvid and her guards, twenty or thirty Revenants. He kept running, knew there was no time for stopping and thinking now.

  Speed and surprise are my best chance. Like a predator’s strike. He’d been on enough hunts to know how this worked.

  Get in amongst them fast, don’t slow to fight. Cut, stab, move until Arvid is in front of me.

  From the right he glimpsed Ethlinn ploughing through the chamber, from the left a flare of Utul’s flaming sword and Shar fighting silently alongside him. They were all converging on Arvid, but Drem was there first.

  Arvid didn’t see Drem coming, and in a handful of heartbeats three Revenants were dead or dying, Drem carving through them. Another went down with Drem’s axe in its skull, wrenching his arm as the blade stuck. He slashed with his seax as he juddered to a halt, tugging on his axe.

  There was sudden pain in his left leg: talons raking him, blood welling. He stabbed down, his seax slicing through flesh, grating on bone. Another leaped upon him, mouth wide, teeth snapping at his throat. He jerked away, rotten breath washing over him; he lashed out with his seax, a crackle of blue flame.

  Drem limped forwards, the pain in his leg burning. Cullen and Keld had been brought to a standstill a few paces ahead of him. Revenants were swarming them, a frenzied mass of teeth and talons. Drem felt wounds opening up, links in his mail tearing. Beyond them a snatched glimpse of Arvid, her black eyes staring at Drem. She lifted her axe and strode towards him.

  More Revenants threw themselves at Drem, Keld and Cullen. He saw Cullen drop to one knee as one jumped onto his back. A frozen moment as Drem tried to reach them, the Revenant’s head coming back, mouth wide, teeth bared. Keld turned, swung his sword, but another Revenant slammed into the huntsman, the two of them crashing to the ground. Fen and Ralla leaped in.

  Cullen screamed. The figure on his back was biting the red-haired warrior, jaws clamping between his neck and shoulder. Cullen was wearing mail, but Drem saw the spurt of blood.

  A flash of flame and Utul was there, his sword leaving a trail of blue fire, the Revenant falling away from Cullen, dead before it hit the ground.

  Revenants hurled themselves at Utul, but Shar stepped into Drem’s view, her curved sword making short work of Utul’s assailants. Shar stood with her sword raised in stooping falcon, guarding Utul as he dropped to one knee to check on Cullen.

  The Revenants parted. Arvid appeared, standing half a head taller than any around her. She met Drem’s gaze and he saw recognition flare in her eyes.

  ‘Fritha did not catch you, then,’ Arvid said, her voice somewhere between a whisper and a hiss, somehow cutting through the din of battle straight into Drem’s head.

  ‘No,’ Drem said, straightforward as always.

  ‘Good, Gulla will be well pleased with me, when he hears of your death at my hands.’

  ‘Come on and try,’ Drem grunted. He rolled his hand-axe, shifted his feet.

  Arvid’s eyes shifted from Drem to Cullen, Utul and Shar, who were only a few paces before her.

  Faster than expected, her axe swiped at Shar. There was an explosion of sparks as Shar parried hurriedly and took a step backwards. She ducked another axe blow, stepped in with her own sword slicing at Arvid’s belly, the Revenant’s mail tearing, but deflecting the blow. Shar stepped away on light feet, but Arvid surged after her, axe sweeping low in one hand, talons clawing with the other. Shar caught the axe, deflecting it with a clang of iron, but Arvid’s talons raked across her face, blood spattering, sending Shar spinning with the strength of the blow, falling, Arvid striding after her.

  ‘NO!’ Utul yelled, exploding from his crouched position.

  He threw himself between Arvid and Shar, who was on her knees, spitting blood.

  Utul’s blade flashed, an incandescent rain of fire as he struck at Arvid; she stumbled backwards, blocking Utul’s attack with her axe. Blue light flared as Utul’s blade slashed across her chest, cutting through mail and flesh. Arvid screamed, Revenants around her leaping to her aid.

  Utul dropped two Revenants in as many heartbeats, but another raked him with its claws. Utul slashed even as he staggered away, his flaming sword opening its throat. He took a few stumbling steps, trying to right his balance, blood sluicing from the claw marks.

  Arvid surged after Utul, axe swinging and crunching into his hip, biting deep, then she ripped it free in a spray of blood and mail. The Revenant’s taloned hand grabbed Utul’s throat, holding him upright. Utul slashed with his sword, Arvid smashed the weak blow away. The sword clattered to the ground, flames sputtering and going out.

  Arvid squeezed. Utul spat in the Revenant’s face, even as his eyes bulged, veins purpling. An audible crack as his neck snapped.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  RIV

  Riv was dimly aware of the battle raging in the chamber, of more winged figures swooping down from the shadows, others at the far end, holding an entrance to another tunnel. She was still lost in her thoughts, gazing at the dead half-breed at her feet.

  How many of them are there?

  A world of questions opened up to her, spiralling like a whirlpool in her mind, but one thought blotted out all else.

  I’m not alone.

  A sound – looking up, she saw the shape of Revenants speeding towards her, three, four, more of them. Before she had a chance to move, Meical and the Ben-Elim were in front of her, others rising, the air churning as wings beat, spears stabbed.

  A ripple of blue flame.

&n
bsp; ‘Come,’ Meical said, turning and looking down at her.

  ‘Look!’ she said, pointing at the dead warrior.

  ‘There are questions that need answering,’ Meical said. ‘But the only way to those answers is through these Revenants. There is a battle that needs fighting.’

  She looked down again at the half-breed and it was like a struck spark to Riv.

  These mist-walkers killed one of my kind. They need to pay.

  Her rune-marked sword hissed into her hand and she took to the air. Revenants were everywhere, swirling around clusters of the Order. Ethlinn and Balur were at the far end of the chamber, Ethlinn striding towards some point in the chamber she seemed desperate to reach, Balur trying to follow her, Revenants clinging to him like rats.

  Meical flew into the chamber; Riv took his left side, the surviving eight Ben-Elim spread around them in the shape of a wedge. They swept low, stabbing down at enemies.

  Meical led them inexorably forwards, closing in on each beleaguered knot of Order warriors. They set two groups free, were too late for the next, but slew the Revenants that were crouched, feasting on dead warriors’ corpses.

  Flames and black smoke obscured Riv’s vision, but then the cloud rolled on and Riv saw a Revenant, taller and broader than the rest. A woman, an axe in one fist. In her other she was holding a warrior of the Order by the throat, squeezing. Revenants formed a ring around them.

  Arvid.

  Riv saw a burning sword fall from the warrior’s grip.

  Utul.

  Even as Riv watched, she saw Arvid’s grip tighten, Utul’s head lurch to one side, flopping at an unnatural angle.

  Riv exploded into movement, Meical calling after her.

  She sped through the chamber, felt movement above, glanced up to see dark-winged figures flying there, watching her. She was almost upon Arvid, who had thrown Utul’s body to the ground. Ethlinn and Balur were closing in, though they were set upon from all sides. Drem was standing over Cullen, slicing and chopping with his seax and hand-axe, Keld’s wolven-hounds close by, ripping and biting. Shar appeared from nowhere, face twisted in a wordless scream, sword raised over her head, carving a way through Revenants towards Arvid.

  A roar from the tunnel drew Riv’s gaze; an explosion of flame boiled into the chamber, Revenants falling back, alight. Then warriors were leaping through the flames into the chamber: Kill, Byrne’s captain, and Tain the giant. Close behind them was Queen Nara with a spear in her hand, Madoc her first-sword at her shoulder, others following.

  Below her Shar cursed as she tried to break Arvid’s guard. This was the first Revenant Riv had seen use a weapon, twice as dangerous now with her strength and speed. Iron clanged and Shar reeled back, tripping over a body, falling, and Arvid was towering over her, axe rising. Riv beat her wings, sword levelled, but knew she was going to be too late. She pulled her arm back to throw her sword, and then a net flew through the air, wrapping around Arvid, lead weights swinging about her limbs and torso.

  Arvid bellowed, thrashing in the net, and stumbled backwards, Revenants leaping to her aid, tearing at it. Keld appeared, sword and shield in hand, blood sheeting from a wound on his head, a flap of skin hanging.

  Shar climbed to her feet.

  Arvid tore an arm free from the net, Revenants were trying to rip the rest from her.

  ‘Kill them,’ she hissed, talons gesturing at Shar and Keld, Drem just behind them, still protecting Cullen’s prone form.

  Then Riv was amongst them, wings beating as her feet skidded on stone, sliding, Meical and the other Ben-Elim behind her, stabbing, killing. Riv skewered a Revenant, shifted her weight, her momentum carrying her on, sword ripping free. More Revenants were in front of her, protecting Arvid as she frenziedly tore the last scraps of net from her arms.

  Meical took to the air, other Ben-Elim joining him, jabbing down. Dimly Riv knew that Meical was using the right strategy, using his wings as an advantage. But the red haze had filled Riv’s mind, and all she wanted to do was be in the thick of it, to stab and slice and kill.

  A crash behind her: Ethlinn and Balur reaching the fight, heads and limbs flying. Both giants were bleeding from a multitude of talon and puncture wounds. Byrne was there, too, eyes fixed on Arvid, all of them carving their way through the ring of Revenants that had formed around their dark captain.

  A snarling figure lunged at Riv but its head exploded as she hacked downwards, tore her blade free from the mess that collapsed to the ground, leaped over the corpse.

  And then Arvid was in front of her.

  Riv did not pause.

  A beat of her wings powering her forwards, sword stabbing. Arvid swung her axe, deflected Riv’s sword, threw the remnants of the net in Riv’s face, sidestepped and slashed talons at her as she stumbled, half-blinded by the net.

  Riv instinctively dropped to her knees, ripped the net from her face, felt air hiss over her head, rolled on one shoulder, tucking a wing, and then she was back on her feet, turning. The axe was swinging again, this time Riv’s legs bunched, propelling her into the air, a beat of her wings and she was jumping above the axe, flying over Arvid, cutting down at her. Arvid hissed, clutching her shoulder at the blue-flamed line that appeared there.

  Riv landed, lunged, Arvid’s axe swinging around, blocking, stumbling backwards. She snarled and swept forwards, axe and talons a blur. The blade sliced through air a finger’s width from Riv’s throat, talons raking across Riv’s belly, mail links shattering, a burning sensation.

  Riv ignored it, found her balance and ducked beneath the backswing of Arvid’s axe, darting in close, and then her sword was stabbing into Arvid’s belly, angled up, pushing deeper, under the ribs, piercing her heart. Riv ripped her sword free in a burst of blue sparks, Arvid stumbled away. The Revenant dropped her axe, hands grasping at the wound in her belly. She looked at Riv with her black eyes, sighed, toppled to the ground.

  A change around her, the sounds of battle fading, and Riv turned.

  All about them the surviving Revenants were gasping, limbs flopping as they collapsed to the floor.

  Drem looked up and gave her a weary smile. ‘You took your time, didn’t you?’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  DREM

  Riv gave Drem a fierce grin, her wings and limbs trembling. Then she punched her sword into the air and the survivors in the chamber were cheering, echoing louder and louder. Drem felt a moment of relief and elation, the realization that he’d looked death in the eye and survived, again. That was followed by a wave of exhaustion.

  He looked down. Cullen was lying still on the ground.

  Drem dropped to one knee, put his hand to Cullen’s neck, searching for a pulse. For a long, agonizing moment he couldn’t find it, but then, faint but steady, he felt it.

  Cullen groaned.

  A fist unknotted in Drem’s belly.

  I would not be losing you, Cullen.

  His own wounds were clamouring for attention, the claw marks on his leg the worst, a pain that throbbed with each beat of his heart. He tore a strip from his linen undershirt and quickly bound the wound, then checked himself over, found a few sets of puncture wounds from Revenant teeth on his arms, and blew out a relieved sigh that Arvid was dead.

  The bears will be all right, now, he thought.

  Close by, Shar dropped to her knees besides Utul’s body. She lifted him, cradling his head in her lap, and stroked his face. Tears streaked lines through the grime on her cheeks.

  There is no coming back for Utul. Drem felt a deep wave of grief for the warrior. He had not known him long, but he’d liked him, had felt that Utul was a man he could trust. And now he’s gone. He could not pull his eyes away from Shar, holding Utul on her lap, her tears falling onto him. Their position dragged Drem back over half a year and sixty leagues north into the Desolation, to him kneeling beside his father, holding Olin as he died.

  So much death.

  Keld limped over to him, one side of his face covered in blood. A flap of ski
n was hanging from his temple.

  ‘That’ll need stitching,’ Drem said, tearing another strip of linen from his undertunic.

  ‘Aye, soon enough,’ Keld said. His hounds were with him. Both were matted with blood. Drem saw puncture wounds on Fen’s chest.

  ‘Cullen?’ Keld asked him.

  ‘Unconscious. Cracked his skull when he fell with a Revenant on his back. But he’s breathing.’

  ‘I’m not unconscious,’ Cullen croaked. ‘Help me up.’

  The relief in Keld was obvious.

  ‘What did I miss?’ Cullen groaned, trying to sit up. ‘My head hurts. Where’s my sword?’

  ‘You dropped it, again,’ Keld said, kneeling beside them both. ‘And it’s a fine time to be sleeping on the job. The fight’s done now, no need to rush.’

  ‘Done?’ Cullen said. ‘But I haven’t killed Arvid yet.’

  ‘Riv beat you to that,’ Drem said, as he wrapped his strip of linen around Keld’s face, holding up the flap of skin.

  ‘Damn it,’ Cullen muttered. ‘That’s not fair, she’s got wings. We had to cut our way through a hundred of these things –’ he prodded a dead Revenant next to him – ‘to even get close to Arvid.’

  ‘Riv did her fair share of Revenant-fighting,’ Keld said, ‘don’t be worrying about that.’

  ‘Still,’ Cullen muttered, picking at blood that was scabbing on his head, ‘I wish I had wings.’

  Fen licked Cullen’s face.

  ‘Ach,’ Cullen muttered, ‘your breath smells.’

  ‘He’s been chewing on Revenants, what do you expect?’ Keld ruffled Fen’s fur. Ralla pushed in for some attention, too. Drem scratched her neck.