Malice: The Faithful and the Fallen Series Book 1

by John Gwynne

‘His tongue. Once he starts moaning, he can suck the joy of life right out of any man. Makes you want to lay down your blade and let him kill you. I’ve heard it’s ancient sorcery, passed down from the giant Elementals.’ They all laughed except Dath, who looked a little offended.

  Ronan winked at Cywen and she felt her cheeks colour again. She looked away, struggled for conversation.

  ‘It is good to have your da back from Tenebral,’ she said to Edana.

  ‘Yes, it is. Mam is smiling again. Although he has been different.’

  ‘Different?’ said Cywen.

  ‘I’ve never seen him so angry as when Marrock was taken.’

  ‘And my lord,’ said Ronan. ‘Pendathran thought he had lost his brother’s-son. And to the same killers.’

  ‘Marrock is back now. And Father is planning to deal with Braith. Once and for all.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Dath asked.

  ‘I’ve heard him talking with Pendathran. My father is talking of clearing the Darkwood, once and for all.’

  ‘How?’ said Ronan. He shook his head. ‘He cannot do that–the Darkwood does not lie only in Ardan. It spans a border with Narvon, leagues long. Owain,’ he hawked and spat, ‘he will not lend his aid. Braith will just hide his men in those parts of the Darkwood that cover Narvon. Brenin cannot take armed men there.’

  ‘Not yet. But Father thinks the situation will change. It is to do with his journey to Tenebral. I couldn’t quite understand what he meant. But he is asking for a gathering on Midwinter’s Day, with Rhin, Owain and Eremon.’

  ‘Where? Here?’ said Ronan. ‘They will never come, not so far into Ardan. Owain judges others by his own heart. He would fear treachery.’

  ‘Not here,’ said Edana. ‘At the giants’ stone circle.’

  Many stories surrounded the huge ring of stones, holy place and ancient meeting ground of the Benothi giant clan.

  ‘Maybe,’ muttered Ronan. ‘It still lies within Ardan, but within sight of Narvon’s border. And close to the Darkwood, which I like even less.’

  Edana shrugged. ‘Father is sending out riders, inviting them all: Owain, Rhin, even Eremon from Domhain.’

  ‘Why?’ said Corban, frowning. ‘What is he hoping to achieve?’

  ‘I’m not sure. I wasn’t supposed to hear, you understand, I was…’

  ‘Spying,’ said Corban with a grin. Edana shrugged and smiled back.

  ‘And why would Eremon of Domhain come? Braith and the Darkwood are far from his borders,’ Ronan said.

  ‘There is more to it than outlaws in the Darkwood,’ Edana said. ‘It has to do, I think, with a prophecy, or something that Father heard in Tenebral.’ She took a deep breath, frowning. A cold breeze gusted off the bay. ‘He mentioned a sign, on Midwinter’s Day, and a… a Black Sun.’

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  VERADIS

  ‘We are close,’ Calidus said over his shoulder, guiding his mount forwards. Alcyon strode in his customary place, alongside the Vin Thalun.

  ‘How close?’ Veradis called out, Nathair riding silent beside him.

  ‘It is difficult to say, with certainty,’ Calidus said. ‘Telassar has not remained hidden throughout the ages just because of these mountains.’

  Veradis looked about him. They were picking their way along a narrow path beside a chattering stream, peaks rearing all about them.

  ‘What do you mean?’ Veradis said, cupping a hand to his mouth to make himself heard.

  ‘There is a glamour upon this place. Earth power has been used to keep the fortress of the Jehar hidden. That is how I know we are close. I can feel the glamour.’

  ‘If that is so, how will we ever find it?’ Veradis called.

  Calidus reined in, turned in his saddle, white teeth glinting in what passed for a smile. ‘Need I remind you? Alcyon and I are versed in the earth power too.’

  ‘I remember well enough. I’ll not be doubting you on that score again.’ Veradis glanced at Nathair. The Prince’s face was grim. A dark mood had fallen on Nathair with the passing of each night since they had left Rahim’s fortress.

  Calidus clicked his horse on again, and they continued on down the narrow track.

  At least it is cooler, thought Veradis. The heat of this land had been starting to wear on him, but he had felt his spirits lift ever since they had entered this range of mountains, two nights past now, the temperature dropping as they climbed.

  He looked over his shoulder, saw the stream disappear down a narrow gully, and frowned. He did not like travelling with so few men about Nathair. Mountains were a breeding ground for brigands, and the narrow paths they had taken through them were ready-made for ambush. Calidus and Alcyon counted for something, but even they could not stop an arrow in its tracks.

  After the battle with the giants, Nathair had led his warband back to Rahim’s fortress, where they had been greeted with shock and celebration. Three nights of feasting had passed, Rahim heaping praise and gifts on Nathair and his men. Then they had set out west, Nathair saying he wished to return to Tenebral with the good news of their victory. One day’s ride from the walls of the fortress, though, and Nathair had placed Rauca in charge of the warband, charging him with their safe passage back to the coast and the meeting place with Lykos and his fleet. Rauca had been flushed with pride.

  ‘We are to Telassar,’ Nathair had said to Veradis.

  No matter how hard Veradis had protested, the Prince refused to take any men with them, other than Calidus and Alcyon.

  ‘I will not appear at their walls with a warband at my back. I mean to win them, not estrange them,’ Nathair had said.

  So here they were, wandering Elyon knew where in the middle of a strange country, deep within an unknown range of mountains, which apparently had some kind of sorcery cast over them, following a giant and a pirate spymaster.

  Veradis studied Alcyon, who was sitting on the far side of the campfire, orange flames making shadows dance and flicker across his angular face, merging with the tattoos that spiralled both his arms.

  I owe him my life, he thought, not altogether comfortable with the idea. Still, it was better to be alive and indebted to a giant than to be dead. He took a large gulp from a skin of wine. He could still see the giant towering over him, still remember the sickening sensation in his stomach as he had waited for the giant’s axe to fall, then seeing its head rolling in the dust before him.

  ‘I have not thanked you,’ he said over the flames.

  Alcyon looked up, his eyes small pinpricks as the firelight flickered over his face.

  ‘For what?’ the giant rumbled.

  ‘Saving my life. On the ridge.’

  Alcyon grunted. ‘It was a battle. We do what we have to do.’

  ‘Aye. Nevertheless, you have my thanks.’

  Alcyon shrugged, grunted again.

  Calidus chuckled, a high, thin sound, like air sucked through a hollow reed. ‘My giant is unaccustomed to such praise.’

  ‘My giant?’ said Nathair. He sat slightly apart, hands clasped around knees drawn up tight to his chest.

  ‘Alcyon is… indebted to me, shall we say,’ the Vin Thalun said.

  ‘Have you ever ridden a draig?’ Nathair asked the giant.

  ‘Nay,’ said Alcyon. ‘I am of the Kurgan. It was not our way.’

  ‘They were quite impressive, would you not say?’

  ‘Aye,’ muttered the giant, ‘but you slew them, regardless of how impressive they appeared.’

  Nathair laughed, the first time that Veradis could remember since Rahim’s fortress. ‘But we were a thousand strong, with Rahim’s warriors, against only four score of them.’

  ‘True enough,’ agreed Alcyon.

  ‘And it only took a handful of them to kill five score of my men,’ Veradis added, remembering the devastation the draigs had caused as they had rampaged through his shield wall, scattering all in their path like so much kindling.

  ‘I would like one,’ Nathair said.

  ‘What?�
� spluttered Veradis. Alcyon and Calidus said nothing, but they both suddenly appeared animated, eyes focused on the Prince.

  ‘Do you think it possible, for me to ride one?’

  There was a long silence, broken only by the popping of twigs in the fire.

  ‘Yes,’ Calidus said eventually. ‘Giants are bigger, obviously, but a saddle could be fashioned to accommodate a smaller frame. Also, the ones that we fought, they would have been old, fully grown. Draigs grow quickly at first; they are adolescents in little more than a year. One would be big enough then for you to ride it, and although they continue to grow, from then on the process is much slower. Those that you saw, large enough for a giant to ride, would have been ten years old, maybe more.’

  Nathair nodded thoughtfully. ‘And how would I get one? I would imagine they are hard to catch. How are they trained?’

  The edges of a smile touched Calidus’ lips. ‘If they are walking, then it is already too late,’ he said. ‘You must have them in the egg, be there when they hatch, let them have your scent as you give them their first taste of meat. They are fiercely loyal. Only one person will they ever suffer to ride them, and that is the person who feeds them, rears them.’

  ‘So. Where would I find a draig’s egg?’

  ‘The swampland you saw, on Tarbesh’s border,’ growled Alcyon.

  Veradis wrinkled his nose, remembering the swamp beyond the river Rhetta.

  ‘There are other places, throughout the Banished Lands: Forn Forest, parts of Benoth, the Kavala Mountains,’ said Calidus.

  Alcyon rose, walked to Nathair and kneeled before him. ‘You have my oath, Prince of Tenebral. I will find one for you.’

  Nathair laughed loudly. ‘Alcyon, my thanks would be beyond measure. Can you imagine riding a draig into Jerolin?’ he said, slapping Veradis’ leg.

  ‘If it would squeeze through the gates,’ Veradis muttered.

  ‘Alcyon,’ Nathair continued, ‘you would be a friend indeed if you would do such a thing for me.’

  The giant nodded curtly, his gaze flickering to Calidus. He resumed his place by the fire.

  Silence fell over them for a while. The fire guttered low as they passed the skin of wine around.

  ‘I believe we will see Telassar on the morrow,’ Calidus said, startling Veradis.

  ‘Are you sure?’ asked Nathair.

  ‘There has been a shift in the glamour. Its presence is beginning to fade.’

  ‘Uh,’ grunted Nathair, his mood darkening. ‘Calidus, do you know anything of this fortress of Telassar, of the Jehar? Now that I find myself here, I feel suddenly apprehensive, as if I carry a great weight.’ Nathair avoided the Vin Thalun’s eyes as he spoke, gazing instead at the embers of the fire.

  ‘Yes, I know something of Telassar, and its people. Mostly tales and rumours, but I have found much truth wrapped up within such stories before.

  ‘The Jehar are of the Old Blood. A people that dwelt here before Elyon’s Scourging–they survived both fire and water when the giant clans and the race of men were decimated. I say survived, but maybe they were spared–I know not,’ he shrugged. ‘All that is told of them is that they are fanatical. They live to serve Elyon, and they are reputed to be warriors without equal, trained from when they can stand.’ He smiled, teeth and eyes reflecting red in the glow of the dying fire. ‘I know not how much truth is in these tales. But some, at least.’

  ‘How do you know so much?’ Veradis asked.

  Calidus shrugged. ‘I am Lykos’ eyes, his ears. The Vin Thalun’s network of information-gatherers…’

  ‘Spies, you mean,’ said Veradis.

  ‘Aye, spies. They are everywhere. Remember, the Vin Thalun are sailors; the whole of the Banished Lands coast is open to them. And also, before I served Lykos, I travelled much. There is little that I do not know or cannot discover, if I set my will to it.’

  ‘Before you served Lykos. What did you do then?’

  ‘Ah, Prince’s man, that is a tale for another time.’

  ‘If you know so much,’ Nathair said, ‘perhaps you can tell me who Asroth’s avatar will be. The Black Sun.’

  Calidus grimaced. ‘I wish I could. Asroth is cunning, first and foremost, the old tales say. It is a question I have long pondered.’ He shrugged. ‘We should look to any that oppose you, that oppose your father’s alliance. That would be the obvious starting point, though I think the Black Sun would not reveal himself at this point, not unless he could strike a decisive blow. But perhaps his servants…’

  ‘Mandros,’ Nathair whispered. ‘He has opposed my father, mocked him, even. Do you think it could be him?’

  ‘Possibly,’ Calidus said. ‘At the very least he is likely in service to Asroth’s cause. He sows division amongst those your father would reach, belittles the truth of our cause.’

  Nathair snapped a twig and threw it on the fire.

  ‘When you stand before the Jehar on the morrow,’ Calidus said, ‘remember what I am about to tell you. The writings of Halvor, the giant, mention certain criteria that the champions shall be known by. Kin-Slayer, Kin-Avenger, Giant-Friend, Draig-Rider. You are already friend to a giant,’ he gestured at Alcyon, ‘and you have just spoken of riding a draig.’ He chuckled. ‘You are the prophecy, Nathair, living and breathing.’

  ‘You know of the giant’s prophecy?’ Veradis said.

  ‘Of course I do,’ Calidus said, winking at him. ‘Wouldn’t be much of a spymaster if I didn’t, now, would I?’

  Veradis snorted. ‘And the Jehar, they have heard it as well?’

  ‘Yes. Their ancestors have lived through the Scourging, remember, so they are aware of Halvor’s writings. If my sources are correct, they have disagreed, I understand, over the interpretation of the prophecy. It is vague, in parts.’

  ‘More like riddles,’ Veradis said.

  ‘Good for the brain,’ Calidus said, tapping his temple. ‘The Jehar, they have a name of their own for Elyon’s Bright Star. They call him the Seren Disglair. And remember one other thing. This you must say: the Ben-Elim, Elyon’s warrior-angels, they will stand behind the Bright Star.’

  ‘The Jehar know of the coming war, then?’ Nathair said quietly.

  ‘Yes, if the tales are to be believed. It is what they live for, have trained for. They yearn for it.’

  Veradis looked at the faces around the campfire. Alcyon was gazing at the ground, face hidden in shadow. Calidus and Nathair were staring at each other, Nathair wide-eyed, Calidus calm but intense.

  ‘I know who you are, what you will become,’ the Vin Thalun whispered. ‘That is why I serve you.’ His voice trembled slightly.

  Nathair nodded. ‘Come, then. We should sleep, and let us see what the morrow brings.’

  ‘We are here,’ said Calidus. The Vin Thalun was sitting his horse at the head of their small column. Veradis squinted and leaned in his saddle to look past Calidus, but all he could see was more of the valley they had been riding through since daybreak, mountains all around.

  He frowned as they moved on again. Calidus had just disappeared. He blinked, then Alcyon vanished too. He stared hard, could just make out two shadowy figures. The air before him and Nathair shimmered, the dim outlines of Calidus and Alcyon appearing as if through a veil of water.

  Nathair looked at him, shrugged, then kicked his horse on. Veradis followed quickly. His skin tingled as he passed through the shimmering barrier, then he too was through.

  The mountains were gone, replaced by a lush green vale. A river flowed out of the mountains, twisting in great curves through the vale until it reached a body of water that filled the horizon, sparkling in the sun as if dusted with silver.

  Tilled fields filled the valley, rolling up to the walls of a fortress, white stone gleaming. ‘Behold, Telassar,’ said Calidus with an elaborate sweep of his hand.

  ‘Where are we?’ Veradis murmured.

  ‘That,’ Calidus said, pointing to the body of water that filled the horizon, ‘is the Inland Sea. We are in the fa
r north of Tarbesh, in the Hidden Vale, ancient and secret home of the Jehar.’ A smile of satisfaction flickered on the Vin Thalun’s face, but he said no more. Veradis glanced behind, could see no sign of the trail they had ridden in on, only sheer-faced cliffs climbing into clouds high above.

  ‘Come, then,’ said Nathair, kicking his white stallion on. Quickly they fell in behind the Prince, winding their way towards the white walls of Telassar.

  They were still far from the fortress when a horn-call rang out and they spotted a group cantering towards them.

  Veradis studied the riders as they drew near. Their horses were tall, long legged, finer boned than those he and his companions were riding. They had an easy grace about them that made him think of his own mount as clumsy. The riders were all dark haired, clean shaven, long hair tied back at the nape, sword hilts rising above their backs. Veradis blinked, realizing some of them were women. When only a dozen paces separated them, they reined in, raising dust from the road.

  One of the riders spoke. It was a language that Veradis had never heard before, harsh and guttural, but Calidus replied in the same tongue. The warrior frowned, then spoke again, this time in the Common Tongue.

  ‘Who are you? What is your business here?’ He spoke slowly, carefully.

  ‘I am the Seren Disglair,’ said Nathair, spreading his arms wide. ‘I would speak with your lord.’

  The rider rocked back in his saddle. Murmurs spread through the riders at his back, followed by a stunned silence. Veradis saw shock, fear, disbelief, awe sweep their faces.

  ‘The Seren Disglair?’ said the rider that had first spoken, leaning forward in his saddle.

  ‘I have travelled far to find you. I must speak with your lord.’

  The warrior turned to his companions and spoke with them in his guttural tongue, then the leading warrior gave an order, and one of their number sped back towards the fortress.

  ‘I am Akar,’ the warrior that had greeted them said. ‘Please, come. I shall escort you to Sumur, Lord of Telassar.’

  As they approached the fortress, Veradis saw men, women and children working the fields. All stopped to watch, and soon the group passed through wide gates into a huge open courtyard. To one side row upon row of men and women were standing, all moving in a kind of synchronized pattern, almost like a dance. They held long, wooden practice swords, slightly curved, shaped like the one strapped to Akar’s back.