Ruin (The Faithful and the Fallen, #3)

by John Gwynne

‘Don’t think you should be in here, my lady,’ Baird said. ‘There’ll be some blood, probably some cursing too.’ Edana snorted. ‘I’ve seen enough blood already, and spilt some myself. As for the cursing, I’ve travelled with Camlin for near a year now. I don’t think I’ll hear anything I haven’t already.’

Camlin felt a wave of sympathy for the young warrior. Evnis, betrayer of Dun Carreg, slayer of Brenin, King of Ardan. Not the best da in the Banished Lands to have.

Think she might be worth following, after all.

Halion enough for Conall to take him prisoner. ‘I would talk frankly with you,’ Edana said. ‘These are dark times, and some clarity would go a considerable way to easing all our minds.’ ‘Dark times indeed. My husband is murdered, my kingdom stolen. My son pursued by a usurper.’ ‘Yes. The crimes against us both are

That’d be more of Camlin’s handiwork.

‘Where’s Braith? If anyone can track a ship it’ll be him.’ ‘He’s dead,’ Rafe said. ‘Camlin killed him–threw him in the sea while you were fighting Halion.’

Rafe raised an eyebrow. ‘Where do you think they’re going?’ he asked, as they both stared at the empty horizon. ‘Away from me,’ Conall growled. ‘Somewhere far away from me.’

He does not want to lead, and that is a good start. Only the vain and foolish crave such a responsibility. He is loyal to a fault, marching half a thousand leagues into a giant’s fortress to find his sister and rejecting Meical’s advice in doing so. That cannot have been easy, disagreeing with a warrior-angel. Tukul liked that.

‘You have counselled me to go to Drassil,’ Corban said. ‘As I thought of your advice, which is probably good advice, though I don’t understand anything about prophecies and old forests and fortresses, my heart whispered to me. It said, you swore an oath to Edana.’

‘But there are things that I do know,’ Corban continued, ‘things that I have clung to through the dark times that I–we–have already faced.’ He waved a hand at his friends. ‘Family. Friendship. Loyalty. These things have been my guiding star, my light in these dark times.’ He looked to his mam’s cairn beside the stream.

‘If we ride south it does not mean we are running away from Nathair and the Kadoshim, running away from this war.’ ‘It is the God-War. There is nowhere to run,’ Balur said with a shrug of his massive shoulders.

‘Nathair and those he rides with are a plague that will sweep the land unless they are stopped. I mean to fight them, with all that I am. I

grim. ‘Nathair killed our da.’

Nathair. And Calidus slew Mam.

Besides, if anyone is going to be this Seren Disglair, I, for one, am happy it’s Corban.’ ‘What do you mean?’ Cywen asked him. She noticed Coralen was staring hard at Farrell. ‘He’s the best of us,’ Farrell said with a shrug. ‘Honest, brave, fair. Loyal. I’d follow him into any fight.’

‘I’m not saying that I’ve decided to go to Edana and not Drassil,’ Corban was saying. ‘What I am saying is that if we went to Edana I can see us doing much good by aiding her. Rhin is our enemy, a servant of Asroth. If we can help Edana defeat her, it would be a great victory for us.’

‘I have heard much talk of this prophecy,’ Corban said, ‘but I have yet to actually hear it.’ ‘I can remedy that,’ said Meical. He reached inside his cloak and pulled out a round leather canister. He undid a cord that bound it and slid out a scroll. It crackled as he unrolled it; everyone gathered close to hear it. War eternal between the Faithful and the Fallen, infinite wrath come to the world of men. Lightbearer seeking flesh from the cauldron, to break his chains and wage the war again. Two born of blood, dust and ashes shall champion the Choices the Darkness and Light. Black Sun will drown the earth in bloodshed, Bright Star with the Treasures must unite. By their names you shall know them – Kin-Slayer, Kin-Avenger, Giant-Friend, Draig-Rider, Dark Power ’gainst Lightbringer. One shall be the Tide, one the Rock in the swirling sea. Before one, storm and shield shall stand, before the other, True-Heart and Black-Heart. Beside one rides the Beloved, beside the other, the Avenging Hand. Behind one, the Sons of the Mighty, the fair Ben-Elim, gathered ’neath the Great Tree. Behind the other, the Unholy, dread Kadoshim, who seek to cross the bridge, force the world to bended knee.

‘There’s more,’ Meical said and continued reading. Look for them when the high king calls, when the shadow warriors ride forth, when white-walled Telassar is emptied, when the book is found in the north. When the white wyrms spread from their nest, when the Firstborn take back what was lost, and the Treasures stir from their rest. Both earth and sky shall cry warning, shall herald this War of Sorrows. Tears of blood spilt from the earth’s bones, and at Midwinter’s height, bright day shall become full night.

‘Why?’ Corban said. ‘Why what?’ replied Meical. ‘Why me? Why am I this Bright Star? Why not Edana, or some prince or king? Me, the son of a blacksmith, a boy whose only ambition was to be a warrior and serve his king.’

Corban nodded thoughtfully. ‘When was this prophecy written?’ he asked. ‘Two thousand years ago,’ Meical said. Corban blew out a long breath. ‘Two thousand years. Our fate was decided two thousand years ago. My fate…’

‘Calidus is the puppet-master in all of this: Asroth’s will made flesh. Kill him and the war is won.’ ‘And how would we kill him?’ Gar asked. There was something in his tone–not quite scorn. ‘With a sword in our hands, courage in our hearts,’ Akar spat back.

Those giants are another distraction that I do not need. There is only Jael. Getting involved here has already led to Vin Thalun on my trail and a woman slowing me down, when I could have been leagues closer to Isiltir by now.

And now here he was, a refugee on the other side, playing guide to the fugitive Queen of Ardan and the fugitive King of Domhain.

‘Home is fifty leagues that way,’ Camlin said, pointing along the coast. Dun Carreg was there somewhere, and between them a host of Rhin’s sworn men, led by Evnis, the man who had slain Edana’s father.

‘That’s the one. Her brother seemed to have a strong sense of family loyalty. Foolish child. It’s an overrated quality in my opinion–I’ve spent most of my life plotting how to kill off my kin, not rescue them.’ ‘So you’ve sent a warband after him?’ Veradis asked. ‘I’m surprised you have the men available, spread throughout four nations as you are.’

‘Halion ben Eremon.’ He looked surprised, then too relaxed to care. Rhin smiled. ‘And whom do you love, above all others in these Banished Lands?’ ‘Conall ben Eremon, my brother.’ Conall took a step back, as if from a blow. ‘And who is your lord?’ ‘I have no lord,’ Halion corrected. ‘I serve a lady; Edana ap Brenin. Queen of Ardan.’ Rhin scowled at that. ‘Why are you asking him these questions?’ Conall growled. ‘How are they relevant?’ ‘I am establishing that he is telling the truth–that the drug has him fully.’ She looked back to Halion. ‘And where is Edana now?’ ‘At sea, I would imagine.’ ‘What are her plans?’ ‘To reunite with the resistance in Ardan. To take back her crown.’ ‘It was never hers,’ Rhin muttered. Halion stared ahead. ‘And where is this resistance? What is Edana’s destination?’ ‘Dun Crin, the giant ruins in the marshes of western Ardan.’ Rhin smiled triumphantly. She reached out and stroked Halion’s cheek. ‘Thank you. You have been most helpful.’

‘Every one of us here has those dear to them, hearts that would grieve at their deaths. We do fight for a cause. Against a great evil. But I also fight to save those I love. So I will not throw away their lives unnecessarily.’

‘This is different,’ Corban said. ‘I’m not scared of what may happen to me. I’m scared of getting people killed.’

‘You drank from the cup.’ It wasn’t a question. ‘I did,’ Uthas said, looking away. He didn’t want to talk about the starstone cup. ‘You know I need the Treasures. They are vital to our plans.’ ‘I know.’ Uthas tugged on his long white moustache, a habit when he was troubled, or anxious. ‘Do you know something that could help me?’ It is too late to go back now. ‘I have knowledge of two of the Treasures: the cup and Nemain’s necklace. I know where they were last seen.’

‘I suspect your generals might disagree with you. Rhin, Nathair, Lykos–they will not be as enthusiastic to see the strength of the giant clans restored. I need to hear that assurance from a higher power than you.’ ‘You would bargain with Asroth?’ Calidus said, raising an eyebrow. Uthas shrugged. ‘Why not. I rolled the dice when I betrayed Nemain–I don’t think they have stopped rolling yet.’ Calidus laughed, a genuine warmth in it. ‘What is the phrase I have heard amongst men and giants? You have some stones, Uthas. I shall arrange a private conversation for you.’

of ice melting into a bucket. No. I will not die scared. Or live scared any longer. Maquin is right. There is nothing I can do other than face it. She gripped her spear tightly.

‘I’ll look after you,’ Tahir had said. ‘We’re two of a kind, you and me–the last of our kind. Me, the last of the Gadrai; you the last of your line. But things will be different from now on. You’re hunted–Jael knows we escaped Dun Kellen and he wants you dead. You’re the rightful heir to Isiltir, and Jael wants that crown–so you mustn’t be found…’

She makes it sound as if it was her idea, and she’s not mentioned that she considered using Edana as a bargaining piece with Rhin for her precious son. Still, if she can light a fire under their arses then I’ll not complain.

‘Less that know the way to Dun Crin, the safer it is. A tortured man will talk in the end, no matter how brave he thinks he is, but you can’t tell what you don’t know.’

‘Three reasons. Three people. Jael. Lykos. You.’ He paused and looked up into her eyes. ‘Two for vengeance. One for love.’ She stared at him a long, timeless moment, then she leaned forwards and kissed him.

as Cywen pulled her knives free.

of winning. Here, there is no chance.’ ‘To fight now is to die, to run aimlessly is a longer death,’ Ethlinn said, her voice a rustle, autumn leaves on the air. ‘But to run somewhere that has meaning, hope. Drassil is the wisest choice.’ Corban bowed his head for long moments, then sucked in a long breath and looked around at them all, his gaze coming to rest on Meical.

He looked to his left, saw a figure chained to a post. A winged man, or what was left of a winged man. He is Ben-Elim. Uthas stopped and stared. One wing of white feathers, stained with blood and grime, hung broken and useless from his back. The other wing was gone altogether, all that was left of it a frayed stump protruding from the Ben-Elim’s back. He was chained to the post, suspended by iron collars about his wrists, head slumped, dark hair hanging. Another collar of iron was fixed about his neck, the chain secured to an iron ring embedded into the ground. As Uthas stood and stared, the Ben-Elim raised his head, dark eyes fixing him.

‘Uthas has information of value to our cause,’ Calidus said. ‘He knows the whereabouts of two of the Treasures.’ ‘That will be most helpful,’ Asroth said. ‘They are vital to our campaign. Which Treasures?’ ‘The cup and the necklace, my lord,’ Uthas said. ‘Nemain’s necklace,’ Asroth said quietly. He closed his eyes, dark veins tracing his eyelids. ‘I remember seeing it about her neck as she fought me.’ He smiled, opening his eyes. ‘She had spirit. And you slew her.’ ‘I did,’ Uthas said, feeling both shame and pride flow through him.

‘You would bargain with me?’ ‘No, my lord,’ Uthas uttered. ‘A reward…’ ‘Ahh.’ Asroth stood and strode back to his chair, his leathery wings wrapping around him as he sat. ‘It is true, I reward those who serve me–successfully. And punish those who fail me. What reward do you wish for?’ ‘To be King of the giant clans–and to rule from Drassil, our ancient home. When the war is won.’ ‘But your giants are Sundered. Even I cannot change what is already done.’ ‘I ask that they be given the choice, in this God-War. Those who join your cause have me as their lord, your vassal king. Those that refuse, back to dust.’

‘That is… good,’ Rhin whispered. ‘It is,’ Calidus agreed. ‘What is not so good is letting Meical and his Bright Star slip through your fingers, and allowing my fleet to be destroyed. Ships that were to take us, take the cauldron, to Tenebral.’ After a long silence Rhin finally spoke.

Grass.’ ‘And within your clan, who are you?’ ‘What do you mean?’ Alcyon asked suspiciously. ‘You see how our people are divided–king, shieldman, warrior, blacksmith, horsemaster, shipbuilder, and so on. What were you?’ Alcyon’s brows jutted, a frown creasing them. ‘I am nothing,’ he growled. Veradis shrugged. ‘It’s your business. But for my part, I don’t agree that you are nothing, now. If nothing else you are my friend.’ Alcyon turned his gaze upon Veradis for long moments. Then he nodded. ‘As you are mine,’ he said.

‘He called for you–Corban, when he saw the eagle-guard and our shield wall.’ ‘Called for me?’ Nathair raised an eyebrow at that, for the first time looking more than mildly interested. ‘Aye. He called you out, declared you coward, claimed you slew his da.’ ‘I did,’ Nathair whispered. ‘He challenged you to the court of swords.’

‘Keep a close watch on the path you follow, my friend, else one day you will look about you and not know where you are,’

At the edge of his vision he saw a figure walking along the tower wall, knew without having to focus that it was Brogan. Closer and closer he inched, until the whole figure was outlined in shadow through the grass, now only twenty paces ahead. Close enough that I won’t miss, too far for a dash with a sword. He straightened and drew his bow, the wood creaking. The man in front of him froze, hearing the sound. He held his hands out, showing they were empty. He knows what a drawn bow sounds like. ‘Nice and slow, turn around now.’ The man turned. Elyon’s stones, it cannot be. Then Camlin was blinking, lowering his bow, rushing forwards to embrace the man before him, caught up in a bear hug in return. It was Halion.

Vonn gazed flatly back. Dully he saw Camlin nock another arrow and draw its feathers to his ear, aiming straight at Evnis. He just stood there, exhausted, heartbroken, for a moment not caring if he lived or died. ‘Do it,’ he whispered. Then Vonn reached down and put a restraining hand on Camlin’s arm.

‘Gar, my beloved son,’ Tukul whispered, ‘you are my joy.’ Tears dripped from Gar’s nose. ‘Never forget that. I’ll see you again, on the other side,’ Tukul breathed, then with a sigh he was gone.

‘What do you mean?’ ‘I think Storm’s in season.’ ‘What!’ Corban blinked, for a moment not understanding. Then Coralen’s words sank in. In season? Are Storm and Buddai making pups? In hindsight it was so obvious that he almost slapped his forehead. Her change in behaviour, her playfulness with Buddai. Of course wolven have seasons, but I have noticed nothing. Too busy, too preoccupied to notice those around me. And she’s run off with Buddai. He thought about that a moment and then smiled. They would make fine pups. Or cubs?

‘I don’t know what to say,’ Corban muttered, gazing down at the arm-ring, then out at the crowd about him. ‘I have done nothing to deserve this.’ ‘You freed us,’ Javed said, taking a step forward. ‘We were slaves, we would have died with collars around our necks.’ ‘You came to our aid,’ said Wulf, stepping beside Javed and Atilius. ‘Our home was burning, our warriors broken; we’d have died without your help.’ ‘You saved us,’ Balur rumbled. ‘We would have perished in Murias without you.’ ‘And we’d have been slaughtered by the Kadoshim had you not intervened,’ Teca from Narvon said. Cywen stepped forward. ‘You crossed realms and mountains to find me in Murias. In the middle of battle you came for me. I owe you my life.’ ‘You give me hope that all is not lost,’ Brina said looking at him with a sharp smile. Gar stepped close to Corban. ‘You give me the strength to go on,’ he said. ‘You give my life meaning.’ ‘You will save all the Banished Lands,’ Coralen said as she stepped forward. ‘And I will follow you to the ends of the earth, or die trying.’

‘Corban ben Thannon,’ Meical cried out in a voice that swept the room like the north wind, ‘our Bright Star, the Kin-Avenger, Giant-Friend, Lightbringer, Rock in the Swirling Sea, will you bind yourself to these people, be their sword and shield, the defender of their flesh, their blood, their honour, unto death?’ Cywen stared at Corban. Saw him look around the room and straighten with pride and resolve. ‘I will,’ Corban said. His voice trembled. He gripped the blade of his sword, his blood dripping down the cold iron, finding the fuller to flow into. ‘People of the Bright Star,’ Meical cried out, ‘will you bind yourselves to Corban ben Thannon, become his sword and shield, the defender of his flesh, his blood, his honour, unto your dying breath?’ ‘We will,’ they cried, Cywen raising her voice with the rest of them, the sound of their voices like a clap of thunder, making the flames in the fire-pits flicker.