CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

CYWEN

“Where’s Trigg?” Cywen blurted as she burst into the den. Pots, Buddai and the cubs bounded all over her as behind them Sif muttered a curse, collecting her spilt stones and nuts.

It was dark outside, the best part of a day had gone since Cywen had seen Trigg in the company of Calidus and Lykos, but this was the first chance she’d had to get away.

“Out,” Haelan said. “She may be big, but she’s good at foraging and not getting caught, and she always comes back with something.” He grinned.

“Don’t know how she does it,” Swain grunted.

“She’s a traitor, that’s how,” Cywen said. “I saw her today, with Calidus.”

“The filthy half-breed,” Swain hissed.

“That doesn’t make sense,” Haelan said. “Why hasn’t she led Calidus here, then? Why let us stay free?”

“I don’t understand that part myself,” Cywen said, brow furrowing. “But I know what I saw. Trigg, with Calidus and Lykos.”

“Maybe they’re watching us, think we can be useful to them,” Swain said. He was gripped by rage. “Maybe they’re spying on our den right now, hidden around the courtyard.”

“No, Pots and Buddai would have sniffed them out,” Haelan said, shaking his head.

“You sure?” Sif asked. She sidled closer to Swain, a hand reaching out to grip the hem of his shirt.

A sound drifted down the tunnel that led to the den.

They all froze, listening. Heard the pad of footsteps, then Trigg calling out a greeting.

“I’ll kill her,” Swain snarled, rummaging inside a sack and pulling out a knife and the snapped shaft of an axe or spear.

“Questions first,” Cywen hissed, as Swain threw the knife to her.

She pushed herself tight against the back wall, where the tunnel opened into the den, and blew out the torch closest to her.

“Act normally, see what you can learn,” Cywen hissed.

Moments later Trigg squeezed herself through the opening that led from the tunnel to the den, dropping onto the ground with a thud and picking herself up. She was smiling.

“Why’re you so happy?” Swain asked her, not able to hide the rage that made his voice tremor.

Trigg frowned at him.

“Where’ve you been?” Sif asked.

Not so subtle at questioning, those two.

“Out, foraging,” Trigg said.

“You hungry?” Haelan asked.

Better.

“Aye,” Trigg grunted. “You admire this Corban?” she added, almost shyly.

“Aye, of course,” Haelan said, pretending to be taken up with ripping a loaf of bread into five equal parts. “He is our leader, he saved us.”

“Do you think he would be happy to see this?” she said, pulling a bundle wrapped in cloth from her cloak.

“What is it?” Sif asked.

Trigg unfurled the cloth. In one hand she held up a chainmail shirt, the other revealed a leather gauntlet, three iron daggers affixed to it, curved like claws.

“Corban’s wolven claws!” Haelan said.

And his mail shirt.

“How did you get them?” Swain asked venomously.

Trigg’s head snapped around.

“I’m good at sneaking,” she said.

“Don’t know how you can walk around the fortress in broad daylight. You’re half-giant, how can you be good at not being seen?”

I’ve heard enough.

Cywen sprang out from the shadows, kicking Trigg in the back of the knees, sending her crashing to the ground. Even as she hit the floor Trigg was twisting, dragging Cywen off balance, a fist crunching into her jaw. Stars exploded, her vision blurred and she fell, her cheek slamming onto cold earth. Then Swain and Trigg were rolling together, the cubs were a mass of fur swirling around the struggling pair like the detritus of a whirlwind. Haelan and Sif stood back, looking unsure how to help.

Buddai leaped at Trigg, his teeth clamping around her arm, while Shadow slammed into the half-giant’s chest, knocking her back.

Cywen threw herself at Trigg, grabbing Corban’s wolven claws, and a heartbeat later had them pressed to Trigg’s throat, the iron tips making indentations in her flesh.

“Stop,” Cywen snarled.

Buddai had Trigg’s arm clamped in his jaws, growling menacingly. The other cubs were snapping and snarling at Trigg’s legs, blood spattering the ground. Shadow bounded onto Trigg’s chest and growled in her face, saliva dripping from her canines.

“Call them off,” Trigg whispered.

“Hold,” Cywen said to Buddai. Haelan clicked his tongue, Shadow looked at him, then reluctantly retreated to stand by his side. Sif ran to Swain, who was groggily sitting up.

“Why?” Trigg asked.

“I saw you,” Cywen said. “With Calidus.”

Any fight left in Trigg drained then, she literally deflated, going limp.

“You’re a traitor,” Swain hissed at Trigg, standing unsteadily, his fists bunching.

“I’ve said nothing about you, about this place,” Trigg said.

“You were with Calidus?” Haelan said with hurt in his voice. “I don’t understand. I thought you were my friend.”

“I am your friend,” Trigg said pleadingly, “even if you abandoned me, forgot I existed, left me to die.”

“Explain,” Cywen said.

Trigg looked at her defiantly, then her face creased with barely controlled emotion.

“I have done a terrible thing,” Trigg said. “But I didn’t know it at the time; I was so angry. Cold, starving. Thought I was going to die, and it was your fault—you Haelan, and Wulf. But now I’m so sorry, wish I could turn back time, or make amends, somehow. By helping you, finding Corban’s belongings…”

“What terrible thing?” Haelan asked.

The half-giant looked at them all, a tremble in her lip, tears slipping down her cheeks.

“I showed Calidus the way into Drassil.”

Showed Calidus the secret tunnel. So many dead because of that one thing. Meical beheaded, the warband scattered.

Cywen’s clawed hand dug deeper into Trigg’s throat; the urge to kill the traitorous wretch was overwhelming, a host of faces spinning through her mind—the dead, framed by the screams of those executed each day.

“I have information,” Trigg blurted, “valuable information.”

“What information?” Haelan asked, stalling Cywen’s thoughts of retribution.

“About the Seven Treasures, about Calidus’ plans.”

“Speak,” Haelan said.

So Trigg did, telling them all she knew, of the ancient forge in the heart of Drassil’s tree, of the whereabouts of the starstone dagger and torc, of Lykos’ mission, of Nathair and Lothar, and of the resistance that was lurking in Forn Forest.

“You’ve seen them?” Swain gasped.

“Corban?” Cywen asked.

“He is not there,” Trigg said. Cywen’s heart felt as if it stopped.

“But he is still alive. Or was. I heard him being discussed. He was taken by the Jotun. Some of your friends have gone after him.”

Thank Elyon he lives. And that explains why he has not responded to Calidus’ challenge.

“Mam and Da? Were they there?” Sif asked, tears in her eyes.

“I saw Wulf,” Trigg said, her lip curling. “Not Hild.”

“Hild is with me, at the hospice,” Cywen said, looking at the anguish in the children’s eyes and unable to keep it from them any longer.

“Why did you not tell us?” Swain gasped.

“Fear,” Cywen said. “I’ll explain and apologize properly later.” She was staring at Trigg, still trying to process all that she’d heard.

How can I trust her? She’s betrayed us once. I do not understand her.

“Why are you doing this?” Cywen asked her. “You have made your deal with Calidus, you’ll be rewarded by him. Why are you even here, trying to be our friend, bringing Corban’s claws and mail, trying to win his favour?”

Trigg shifted, sat up against the wall. Buddai growled. “Because this is not who I am,” she eventually said. “One act of darkness, of treachery. But also many of loyalty, too. Judge me by the sum of my deeds, not just the one mistake.”

Tears leaked from her eyes, her expression as miserable as anything Cywen had ever seen.

Trigg looked around at them all, settling upon Haelan.

“And, I do not want to be alone. I thought Haelan was my friend.”

They stood there in silence a while, each of them going over Trigg’s revelations.

Eventually Cywen took a deep breath.

“They have to know,” she said. “The warband out there. About all of it—the Treasures, the Jotun, Lykos.” She looked at Haelan, Swain and Sif, their faces so serious, so scared.

“We’re getting out of here, tonight.”