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“Surely you know,” Gar said. “I’ll not speak for the others, but as for me, prophecy or no, I go where you go. You are my life, Corban, my breath, the reason I wake and rise. When my da died…” He paused then, looked away, a muscle clenching in his jaw. “When my da died, the world became a dark place. It was only you that caused me to rise from my cot each day.”
“Once, yes, it was about the prophecy, but that was a long time ago. So long ago. Now, I believe in you.” He poked Corban’s chest with his finger. I’ll follow you wherever you go. To hell and back.”
“It would be a bold strike,” Javed said, smiling. “One that we’d sing songs about. I’d like to come.”
“I came back from death for you,” he said, his voice a whispered tremor. “For me it was always forever, however long that may be. And those words you just spoke, they are the greatest gift I’ve ever been given. They are written upon my heart and soul.” “Then let me give you another gift,” she said, smiling, her heart soaring, grabbing his leather jerkin and pulling him onto her.
said when they quietened. “So what?” a voice shouted—a voice and face that Corban recognized. Javed of the Freedmen. “I for one do not care. I never followed you because of a prophecy. I followed because you saved me, and because my enemies are here, and if I don’t face them, they will kill me, or worse, make me a slave again. I still want to kill them. The prophecy changes nothing.” “For once, Javed, I agree with you,” Corban shouted, and laughter rippled around the hill. “Death to our enemies,” Javed yelled, repeating it. “Death to our enemies,” Wulf joined him. “Death to our enemies,” the
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“I’m going to take the starstone necklace to Corban, and I’m taking as many men as Pendathran can spare me,” she said. “No doubt Rhin will have every intention of coming back and trying to take my realm away from me, so I thought, I might as well kill the old bitch now, and do us and the world a favour.” “FINALLY,” Craf squawked triumphantly, hopping into the torchlight.
“Is that…?” Corban said. “It can’t be,” Brina breathed. And then the crow was flapping its wings, slowing its descent, heading straight for them. “BRINA,” it squawked, “CORBAN.” “Brina, Brina, Brina, Corban, Corban, Corban,” Craf was crowing jubilantly as he landed on Brina’s shoulder, hopping from foot to foot, cawing, flapping, running his beak through Brina’s hair, rubbing his head against hers.
“I’m coming for you, Lykos,” Maquin bellowed through cupped hands, “and neither demons from the Otherworld nor flesh and blood will stop me.”
“Ban, I’m your shieldman. Of all days, she’ll know where to find me today. By your side. Wherever you are, that’s where I’ll be. Guarding your back.”
“But all feel fear, both the coward and the hero, and all those in between,” Farrell said. “Aye. It’s what we do about it that counts,” Dath muttered. “And what are we going to do about it?” Coralen asked, though Corban already knew the answer. “We’re going to fight,” he said. A stillness as they squeezed each other’s hands and found their courage in that silent place. “We all ready, then?” Brina asked. “Not quite,” Corban said. “Storm,” he called, and the wolven emerged from the gloom. “Time for you to get dressed.”
“Win and live, or Craf be lonely and sad,” the crow said, riffling its beak through Brina’s hair, then flapping into the sky. “And you fly safe, you scruffy old crow,” Brina muttered.
“TRUTH AND COURAGE.” The shout echoed off the wall of warriors running at them, and then the Jehar were carving into the enemy, blood spraying in a hundred arcs, heads and limbs flying, men falling before them like scythed wheat.
“UTHAS,” Balur One-Eye cried out, “Betrayer, murderer of Nemain; today justice will find you.”
“Aye,” Corban said. He looked at them all, a still moment in the midst of carnage and blood and fear. “You don’t have to come with me.” “Oh, shut up, Ban,” Dath breathed.
Conall leaping from his saddle, even while his horse was still moving, turf spraying. The regent of Domhain was striding forwards. Rafe saw Edana and Halion slow, the warband behind rippling, and Halion was jumping from his saddle, too, marching towards Conall, and then they were slamming into each other, embracing, laughing, hugging, the two warbands coming to a halt only a handful of strides apart. Rafe saw Edana smiling. Halion and Conall parted. Rafe spied tears on the two brothers’ cheeks. Edana spurred her horse forwards. “Conall ben Eremon, is this your way of surrendering?” she asked
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New life, moving on. He felt a twinge of guilt, but moving on did not mean forgetting. Never forgetting.
