CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

CAMLIN

Camlin led his small band along a narrow trail, forty of the best woodsmen, hunters and archers that he had found in Edana’s rag-tag warband. They wound single-file, so as to not give away their numbers if they were tracked, which Camlin thought all but impossible. Those who might have had half a mind to follow them they’d left dying on the giantsway.

Another supply train ruined, some grain burned, the rest stolen, and two score fewer of Rhin’s warriors left to fight us. All in all, a good day. Besides, Craf will let me know if there’s any trouble on my tail.

Only a ten-night had passed since Camlin had been fished out of the river with the giant, Eisa.

He’d not liked the discussions of God-Wars and the Seven Treasures, and Craf hadn’t helped matters since. Every time Camlin had sat still the damn bird had come and perched on his shoulder and started muttering about Kadoshim, death and the end of the world. He shivered.

And then there was Rafe. Camlin had thought about him a lot over the last few days, how he’d been transformed, become stronger and faster. That had added weight to Eisa and Craf’s words, and Camlin didn’t like that.

Gods. Angels and demons. What next? I prefer something I can face and kill. Not myths and stories.

He shivered at the thought of it, the concept that everything they were doing was a small part in a much grander scheme. He didn’t like the idea, not one little bit.

Best not to think of it at all, so keeping busy is a much better idea.

And busy seemed to be working. Half a dozen raids by his crew alone on baggage trains, on warbands and warriors, even a merchant barge travelling up the river Tarin to Dun Carreg, all taking coin and food from the enemy.

Camlin passed the first checkpoint of their camp, saw a shadowed face and a drawn bow. He raised a hand in greeting, knew he was recognized, and that Meg had gone ahead, announcing his imminent return.

Nice to see the guards are working.

Soon afterwards he was emerging into their camp. It had grown. Word was spreading throughout Ardan of Edana’s return, and for a while now new recruits had been trickling into the Baglun.

Camlin was struggling to trust them, and the thought that just one could be a spy or an assassin was not helping him to sleep at night, but Edana was right. She was never going to raise a warband capable of overthrowing Rhin without Ardan’s people.

He found Edana in her tent, which was a crude thing stitched from sails, but it did the job. Inside Edana was sitting with Baird and Halion. Camlin told them of his successful raid. The central tent pole creaked and Camlin looked up, saw the outline of a dark shape through the tent.

Craf. That bird is a compulsive spy.

“More food for us, and less for them,” Camlin said with a smile. “Grain’s on the way, left some of the lads to bring it in.”

“Rhin’s holed up at Dun Carreg,” he continued. “Got eyes on the place. She went in, and definitely hasn’t come out. Warriors are trickling in, though. It’s early days, but looks like that giant might’ve been telling the truth. Over the last four days over two hundred swords have ridden through Stonegate. Looks like she’s gathering some strong arms about her.”

“Mustering a warband to ride with her to Drassil,” Edana mused.

“God-War,” a voice croaked from above their heads, beyond the tent fabric.

Damn that bird.

Vonn and Lorcan, returning from a meeting with Pendathran, entered the tent, the bulk of Brogan following Lorcan.

“Good news, my bride-to-be,” Lorcan said enthusiastically.

Edana winced. Camlin knew that the long-ago-agreed betrothal between them was something that Edana had no intention of continuing with. It was just that no one had told Lorcan that yet.

Someone needs to tell the lad.

“Pendathran has swept through much of Ardan’s east,” Lorcan said, “and he says the people are with you. Many have joined his warband—they were two hundred strong when we left him, all warriors.”

When he marched away from the banks of Dun Crin’s swamp Pendathran had fifty men with him.

“That is excellent news,” Edana said. “And Drust? Is there news from him?”

“Messengers from Drust arrived while we were there,” Vonn said, frowning at Lorcan and stepping shoulder to shoulder with him. “Drust is camped in the Darkwood, has spread word of your return all through the west and is now doing the same in the north. And he has sent men into Narvon, declaring your return. He, too, has raised men. There are over a hundred with him now.”

“We spoke to many travellers while upon the road,” Lorcan said quickly, taking another step forwards. “All had heard of your return, and many seemed…” He searched for the right words. “Cautiously pleased.”

“It is going as we planned, then,” Edana said, her eyes touching Camlin’s.

Better than that.

Edana asked more questions of Lorcan and Vonn, eventually finishing and telling them to go and eat and rest. She called Vonn back. Lorcan hovered in the tent entrance, then left with Brogan, his constant shadow.

Edana looked at them, Camlin, Halion, Baird and Vonn. She sighed and stood, as if coming to a decision.

“Come with me,” she said to them all.

Edana walked out of the tent and led them down towards the river. Camlin heard the tell-tale swish of wings above him, and the creeping of footfalls close by.

Craf and Meg, more alike than they realize.

Soon they were standing before Eisa, the Benothi giant. She was chained to a tree, legs hobbled, guards a dozen paces away.

“I will not keep you a prisoner,” Edana said. “It is not practical—we must move camp or be discovered, and I cannot be wasting manpower on escorting you from one place to another. And besides that, it does not sit well with me. Better a clean death than captivity, eh? So…”

Edana nodded at the guards and warriors she’d brought with her, and before Eisa had a chance to move they were all leaping forwards, grabbing her arms, pinning her. Baird stepped behind the giant, one hand in Eisa’s hair, the other holding a knife to her throat.

“Not an execution,” Edana said, and turned the key in the chain’s lock, releasing Eisa.

“You cannot know how much this pains me,” Baird said as he tied a cloth tight around Eisa’s eyes.

“You are free to go,” Edana said. “My men will take you into the forest, far from here, and from there you will be on your own. Baird, give her back her knife when you take the blindfold off.”

“Aye,” Baird grunted, though he looked none too pleased about it. With a hard tug on the bonds around Eisa’s wrist, he led her along the riverbank, the score of guardsmen wrapped around her.

“Well, I wasn’t expecting that,” Camlin said, blowing his cheeks out. “But she’s still likely to die wandering around in the Baglun.”

“Craf show giant way out of forest,” the crow muttered from his perch in the branches.

“Thank you, Craf,” Edana said.

“Welcome.”

“There’s something I want to talk to you all about,” Edana said to Camlin, Halion and Vonn. “I’ve been thinking about what the giant said, what Craf has said. And, yes, what you have said, Vonn.”

She looked long and hard at them.

“I think we need to do something about these Treasures that I’m told are at Dun Carreg.”

“Aye,” Halion grunted, tugging on his short beard. “What, exactly?”

“I think someone needs to go and steal this cup and necklace.”

Above them a branch creaked and swayed.

“YES,” squawked Craf.