Trey took Darrin’s horse to the valley while Martin led Darrin inside the caves. Corin handed his horse to Gavin and headed further downstream to scrub the dye away.
Corin knelt by the river and pulled off his tunic and shirt. Laying them aside with the mail coat and scimitar, he began washing. Kicking off his boots, he plunged into the river. A few minutes later, he hauled himself back on to the bank and let the remainder of the late afternoon sun dry him. Tiredly, he closed his eyes as the warm spring sunlight played across his scarred back. But he knew he couldn’t stay long.
He could no longer ignore how nervous he was to finally meet his brother again. He had locked away any of those feelings during the escape, and now they came back full force. Would Darrin even recognize him? In truth, Corin had barely been able to replace his old memories of his brother with the man who now waited in the caves.
Mostly dry, he pulled his shirt and boots back on and gathered up the rest of his belongings and walked back to the caves. Pausing briefly, he whistled, and Karif dove from the sky in answer to his call. The hawk perched on his shoulder and gently butted his cheek. Corin reached up to stroke Karif’s feathered chest.
“I missed you too, mate,” Corin said softly.
* * *
Corin was in his chamber, dressing in his own uniform when a knock sounded. Pulling on his boots, he called, “Enter,” and Darrin came in. He’d washed the grime of the dungeon away and had dressed in new clothes.
“I wanted to thank you properly for rescuing me,” he said.
“Sorry it took so long to find you.” Corin reached for his leather tunic and laced it up, cursing how clumsy his tongue felt.
“Trey and Martin wouldn’t tell me your name. They said you’d rather explain everything.” Darrin said.
Corin again felt the weight of Darrin’s stare as he buckled on his scimitar and knives. He searched for the right words.
“Well, you got me out of more trouble than I care to remember when we were younger. I figured it was time I returned the favor.” Corin finally turned to face him.
Darrin stared, fear and hope in his eyes fading into recognition. “I can’t believe it! We thought you were dead...Corin, is it really you?”
“Yes, brother. It’s me.”
Darrin stared a few more seconds in a shocked daze. Then he shook himself and pulled Corin into a rough embrace. “I thought I’d never see you again in this world.”
A laugh of joy and relief broke from Corin as he clung to his brother for another long moment.
“Well, you’re stuck with me for a little while longer I guess.” He pulled away to see the same smile on Darrin’s face. “Talk about me, I’d given up long ago of meeting you again. Look at you, all grown up!”
“And you! Somebody actually decided to trust you with weapons? And a captain as well?” Darrin’s blue eyes matched Corin’s that were snapping with laughter.
“You can blame Trey, Martin, and Liam for that one,” Corin said. “And speaking of weapons, Amaura gave me this for you.” He went to his packs, unwrapped the sword, and held it out to Darrin.
“Is she safe?” Darrin took his sword.
Corin nodded. She’d stayed unnoticed this long, he had to believe she could continue.
Darrin unsheathed his sword and swung it experimentally. Sheathing it with a sigh, he said, “It looks like it’ll take me a while to get back to form. So what about you, Corin? You use a scimitar?” They sat down at the low camp table.
“Aye, it’s what you learn in the south,” Corin said.
“Calorin?” Darrin guessed.
“That’s where I’ve been, not exactly by my choosing either.” Corin was reluctant to say more. He wasn’t ready for Darrin to know yet. Darrin clearly had questions but didn’t press him.
“You started the warband? From the little I was able to hear, it sounds as if you’ve been up to your old tricks,” he said instead.
“I made it back last year and found Martin, Trey, and Liam in the forest. Together, we started the fight,” Corin replied. He was grateful that Darrin had changed the subject. His brother had always been his first confidant, and Darrin seemed content enough to wait until he was ready. “But enough about me, what did you do before the invasion?”
“Well, when you didn’t come back, we tore the forest apart looking for any trace. But there was nothing. Everything got worse when we came home. All of us dealt with your disappearance differently. As for me, I threw myself into my studies and training, trying to stay busy. By the time I was twenty, Father made me a captain in the warband. My first battle was on the coast against the Raiders from Terminus. Then a few years later, the Calorins took us completely by surprise. Our forces were split. Father was in the mountains, so I took command. But by the time Father could rejoin us, it was too late. It was all over in a matter of months. And as for the last three years, not much happened that I care to remember,” Darrin said.
“I know how that is,” Corin agreed quietly.
They were interrupted by a knock from Gavin.
“Captain, sire, reports have just come in.”
Corin led Darrin out into the main cave where Kieran and Kara stood waiting. Recognizing Darrin as the prince they stood uncertain of whom to address until Corin signaled for them to begin.
“I went tae the port at Pentre, Captain. There’s news that two new ships are expected within the week,” Kieran said.
“More mercenaries?” Corin asked.
“No, sir. From what I gathered, they’re coming from the Sultaan’s army. Some important lord is expected as well, sir.”
“Anything else?” Corin said.
“No, sir, other than some big uproar about an important prisoner escaped.” Kieran grinned.
“How careless of Balkor. I suppose he’s blaming us?”
“Rather vehemently.”
Corin and Darrin chuckled at the description.
“All right, Kieran, you’re dismissed,” Corin said.
Kara stepped forward, drawing papers from her pouch and handing them to Corin. “Laird Dandin gave me these, sir. The Calorins are building two new outposts along the border. He says the Clans would be happy tae dispose of them, sir.”
Corin studied the papers. One was a rough sketch of the border, marking the positions of the new outposts. The other two detailed information about the garrisons. Darrin reached for them as he finished, and Corin passed them over.
“Do the Calorins know you have an alliance with the Clans?” Darrin asked.
“Not for certain. Clan Dyson and Gunlon watch the border, but with our combined forces, we’d still be too few to drive the Calorins out,” Corin answered Darrin’s unspoken question.
“Laird Dandin did ask tae see you as soon as you could, sir. He said ‘wee wooden buildings are one thing, but these blasted stone keeps will be the death of us,’” Kara said.
“How soon is he planning on moving against the outposts?” Corin asked.
“As soon as you can join him, sir.”
“Where does he want us to meet him?”
“The usual place, sir.”
Darrin watched Corin as he studied the papers again, coming to a decision.
“Trey!” he called.
Trey looked up from where he was sharpening his sword.
“What now, Captain?”
Corin was unconcerned at the apparent disrespect in Trey’s reply. Neither could resist a dig at the other whenever they got the chance.
“Have your men ready to ride with us tomorrow, we’re going to visit Dandin.”
“Good. Brian still owes me money.”
“Why? Did you cheat again?”
“As always.” Trey smirked.
“Anyone know where Martin is?” Corin asked.
“Trying to get some rest, but no! The cruel captain forbids it.” Martin entered from the side cave.
“Take your men out to Sentry Rocks in a few days. Stay a little longer than usual. I’ll swing back through th
at way once we’re done on the border. Trey will pick up the Lynwood route,” Corin said.
Martin stifled a yawn. “Fine.”
“Gavin, make sure he actually goes with you,” Corin said to Martin’s second in command.
“Yes, sir,” Gavin replied, grinning.
Martin frowned to hide his own smile. “Mutiny! After all this time, and I thought you were on my side, Gavin!” he replied as he left to return to his bunk.
Darrin couldn’t help but smile at the informal but smooth way Corin had elected to run the warband.
* * *
Dinner was a wild affair as the outlaws celebrated the return of their crown prince. Corin related the story of the escape to cheers from his men. Darrin, seeing the men’s admiration and in a clear attempt to learn more about him, slowly turned the conversation to the doings of the Hawk Flight. The lieutenants willingly obliged and, with help from the men in their patrols, recounted story after story of raids and ambushes on terrified Calorins. Most centered on the creativity of their captain. Fresh laughter greeted each new story, especially after Corin’s wry comments on each.
“To hear the Calorins describe ‘the Hawk,’ he’s no more than ten feet tall, has wings, emerges from trees, and shoots bolts of lightning at his enemies,” Corin said.
“Lightning bolts? I think I remember where that one came from,” Tristan said. “What did we use?”
“Burning javelins,” Martin replied. “Corin stood in the middle of the path with Karif, while Llewellyn screamed his head off in the bushes. I think I missed with all my arrows. I was trying not to laugh and give it all away.”
“Do you ever hit anything?” Trey asked innocently.
“You were trying not to laugh? I had a very good view of their faces,” Corin said. “I made some very realistic choking, angry sounds.”
“The Calorins were practically falling over themselves trying to get away,” Tristan reminisced fondly.
“Come to think of it, I do remember hearing some very strange sounds and wondered what they were,” Flynn put in. “It sounded like a dying animal.”
Corin’s laugh joined the others. “Aye, Karif didn’t think much of the whole affair.” The hawk ruffled his feathers haughtily from his perch on Corin’s shoulder. “Still doesn’t apparently.” Corin caught the movement.
Darrin chuckled. Corin had introduced the hawk to him as the “terror of Aredor,” explaining how the bird’s presence had given rise to their name.
After the meal concluded, Corin took Darrin outside the caves to the valley. He whistled, and a grey stallion separated itself from the herd and came toward them, its coat shining softly in the twilight. Corin slipped a halter over its head and handed the rope to Darrin.
“He’s yours.”
Darrin gently rubbed the horse’s broad forehead. “He have a name?”
“Not yet,” Corin replied. “We took him on a raid of Calorin supply lines a few weeks ago.”
A familiar nicker sounded, and Zephyr trotted up through the darkness. Corin stroked Zephyr’s nose.
“You’ve gotten fatter in the last few days, Zephyr. Good thing we’re leaving tomorrow, eh?” Corin said in Calorin.
“He’s named for the west wind?” Darrin asked.
“Aye, he’s carried me through a lot the past three years. He took me even though I was too late to save his first master.” A note of sadness crept into his voice. This time of year it was hard not to think about Castimir. Zephyr gently butted Corin with his nose as if he knew. “Look, Darrin, now that you’re here, I’ll turn over the command to you.”
“Why don’t you keep it?” Darrin’s question surprised him.
“It’s your place by right, and you know more about leading a warband than I do.”
“It doesn’t seem like you’ve had too many problems so far,” Darrin said. “Besides, this life is different from leading armies across open plains. I can learn from you.”
“I won’t hold the command over you,” Corin argued. “I only took the command until we could find you or Father to take over. Before I came here, I had always been told what to do. I’d never commanded a warband before. It’s mostly by luck and Lleu’s help that we’ve survived so far.”
“Don’t sell yourself so short, Corin. You’ve done what none of us could do in the beginning, which is to effectively fight the Calorins,” Darrin said. “Those men trust you and look to you as their captain, and I won’t take that away from you. Since we can’t agree on command, we’ll share it and learn from each other. Agreed?”
“Sounds fair enough.” Corin knew he didn’t have much choice but to agree. Stubbornness was a dangerous trait in their family. “Looks like you still have to talk some sense into me.”
“Something I’ve missed having to do.” Darrin knocked his fist against Corin’s shoulder.
Corin smiled. “Me too, more than you know.”
They turned the horses loose to rejoin the herd before heading back to the caves.
Chapter 13
Corin staggered through the forest behind his men. An ambush had quickly turned into a fierce fight once the Calorin patrol recovered from their initial shock. All his men had escaped unhurt except for him. Worse still, Corin had recognized the man who had wounded him.
* * *
“You all right, Ahmed?” Emeth asked.
Ahmed stood on the forest path staring at the blood on his scimitar. With an effort, he met Emeth’s concerned gaze. Seeing the haunted look in Ahmed’s eyes, Emeth realized what must have happened. A cold pit settled in his stomach.
“Was it…?”
Ahmed nodded. “Aye, he recognized me.”
“Shall we give chase, my lord Ismail?” Captain Taysir asked.
It wasn’t his place to speak up, but Emeth knew he couldn’t lead them after the retreating outlaws.
“I advise against it, my lord. They could easily be waiting to attack us again,” he said.
To his relief, Ismail agreed, calling for a withdrawal back to Lynwood Keep.
* * *
Corin continued to lag behind and finally Liam noticed, rushing back as he leaned against a tree. Liam reached out to steady Corin and he couldn’t suppress a flinch. Liam withdrew his hand, sprinkled with traces of blood. He moved Corin’s cloak aside to reveal the long cut across his back. Calling Bran to help support Corin, Liam bandaged it as well as he could. Corin gratefully accepted Bran’s help as they covered the remaining distance to the caves.
As the patrol came in sight of the caves, they passed through a small quiet clearing that contained three graves. The freshest held Steffan. Spears had been driven into the ground as markers with the names of the dead carved into the shafts. The outlaws threw salutes to their dead comrades as they passed.
Darrin sat in the small cave, studying a map of the forest. He looked up in surprise as Bran came in, still supporting Corin. Liam came in quickly after them. Corin half-collapsed on to his bunk, managing a tight smile to reassure Darrin as his brother noticed his blood-stained tunic. He made no resistance as Darrin helped him take off the tunic and his weapons.
Corin lay on his stomach, pulling up his shirt to allow Liam to treat the wound and revealing to Darrin for the first time the scars that crossed his back. In the three months since Darrin had escaped, Corin had still not been able to tell him what had happened during the years he had been in Calorin.
Corin rested in silence while Liam bandaged the wound. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Darrin, already hating the explanation that would have to come. Darrin waited until Liam left before pulling up the camp stool by Corin’s bed.
“What happened out there?” he asked.
“A glimpse of a life before this one,” Corin replied. Raising himself up on to his elbows, he pulled off the glove that covered his right palm to reveal the hammer and whip crossed within the circle. Darrin’s jaw muscles tensed as he stared at the brand in silence.
“A slave, Darrin, that’s what I was. You saw my s
cars. For eight years, Balkor worked me, beat me, and branded me. That’s all I am.”
Darrin’s next words came out with an effort. “You were gone for more than eight years.”
“Another Calorin lord bought me and had me trained to fight. I served in his personal guard.” Corin swung his legs over the ledge to sit, pushing up his left sleeve to show the scars from the lion’s claws. “I got these protecting his son, Ismail.”
“What happened?”
“Ambush. There was a lion, and I kept it from attacking Ismail. That’s when my leg was hurt,” Corin explained. Darrin had asked him before about his limp.
“And the one you couldn’t protect?” There was understanding in Darrin’s eyes.
Corin looked down as his hand strayed to his side. “Castimir, his younger brother. I was too late. I tried to make it over to him, but he was killed before I got there.”
“And this Ismail, is he the lord that now commands at Lynwood?”
Corin nodded, still angry with himself for not recog-nizing them sooner. “He has at least one of the Phoenix Guards with him. We were close friends when we fought together in Lord Rishdah’s guard. That’s who I saw today.” The Phoenix Guards usually traveled in pairs for protection duties. And if Ahmed was here, he had a pretty good idea who the other guard would be. Azrahil wouldn’t separate Emeth and Ahmed for any extended period of time.
“How did you leave Calorin?” Darrin asked curiously.
“Rishdah gave me my freedom. I had sworn to protect him and his family because he had saved me from Balkor. After three years, he set me free. Before I left, he warned me that we might meet again, only on opposite ends of the sword. He was right. I don’t know what to do now.” Different sides or not, he couldn’t raise his sword against his friends.
“We continue what we’re doing. This struggle is against Balkor, not this Ismail. You will have to fight against your friends, but hopefully, it won’t come down to the final blow,” Darrin said.
Corin nodded again. He had hoped that Lord Rishdah would be kept away from Aredor. It seemed like a cruel twist of fate that sent Ismail, Ahmed, and Emeth to his country.
The Rise of Aredor Page 23
