A Time of Dread (Of Blood and Bone #1) - John Gwynne Page 0,102
been etched through his face with a plough.
When Sig finished, a silence settled upon them all, only the fire crackling in its great hearth, the snoring of Fen as he slept in front of it.
‘There is more news from the Nest,’ Tain said, meaning Crow Tower, ‘that makes more sense, now we have heard Sig’s tale.’
‘Go on, then,’ Byrne prompted.
‘Frick has returned from Jerolin,’ Tain said. ‘The poor lad; it’s a long way to fly, he’s fair shattered, he is—’
‘Tell them, tell them,’ Craf squawked impatiently in Tain’s ear, making him jump.
‘Beacons, springing up all across what once was Tenebral, now the southern reaches of the Land of the Faithful. And attacks. Much the same as you have described in Ardain. Holds burned, merchants and travellers attacked upon the road. Some villages. No organized assault on what you would call a military strength, though. Or at least, that’s what Frick has heard.’
‘Thank you, Tain,’ Byrne said with a dip of her head.
‘There was no way of bringing this Kadoshim back alive, head still attached to its body?’ Byrne said, her dark eyes fixing Sig. Even though Byrne was little more than half Sig’s height she still managed to hold her with that gaze. ‘It would have been helpful if we could have asked a question or two. And, as I remember, that was your task. To find it, and bring it here.’
‘Aye, well, the Kadoshim was not for cooperating,’ Sig said. ‘I tried, had it in my net, even. And to be fair, it wasn’t me that killed the beast.’
Sig felt disloyal, informing on Hammer, but Byrne somehow had that effect on people. She could suck the truth from a stone and Sig had long come to the conclusion that there was no point fighting it.
‘Hammer killed it.’
She’s a bear, she’s got broad shoulders.
A raised eyebrow from Byrne. Surprisingly effective at eliciting an urge in Sig to provide further information.
‘The Kadoshim stabbed her in the paw.’
‘Ahh,’ Byrne and Tain said together.
‘No matter,’ Craf cawed. ‘Only good Kadoshim is a dead Kadoshim.’
‘Well, what’s done is done,’ Byrne said. ‘No point wishing it were not so. But I think you are right, Sig, this heralds something new. Not just another skirmish in the endless war. A new strategy. But what are they up to, and why?’
‘Craf will think on it,’ the crow squawked, as if they could all stop worrying now. Craf fell from Tain’s shoulder, spread his wings and glided to Byrne’s desk, where he hopped over to the Kadoshim’s head. He stabbed his beak down, came back up with a long strip of decaying flesh.
‘Ugh!’ Cullen groaned. ‘That’ll make you gut-sick, that will!’
‘Dead is dead, meat is meat,’ Craf squawked as he swallowed noisily, ‘and Craf not fussy.’
Clearly not.
Even Byrne pulled a disgusted face.
‘We must talk more on this,’ she said, turning her back on Craf, though that didn’t blot out the wet, disgusting sounds of his feast. She spoke louder. ‘The Captains of Kill and Cure must be told. We’ll hold a meeting on the morrow, with all the captains and masters of Dun Seren. And Tain, word must be sent to our outposts at Brikan and Balara.’ She pursed her lips, thinking. ‘And we should tell the Ben-Elim. This is bigger than our … differences. Choose a bird and send word to your father at Drassil.’
Tain nodded.
‘I urge you all,’ Byrne said, worry creasing her eyes. ‘Think hard on this. I have a feeling in my gut; the Kadoshim are coming out from the shadows, attacking for the first time in a quarter of a century. The question is: why? To what end? we must solve this riddle, before it is too late.’
‘What feeling?’ Cullen asked. ‘In your gut, I mean.’
‘Dread,’ Byrne said, and Sig nodded her agreement, for she felt it, too.
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CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
DREM
Drem sat in the darkness of his cabin, staring at nothing. Two fingers were pressed to the pulse in his neck as he rocked gently back and forth, counting.
It was the third day since his da had died. Or at least, that was what he thought, but he couldn’t be sure. It had taken a day to get back home, after Ulf and Hildith had gathered their scattered hunting party back to them, he was sure of that. He strained to remember, a wave of fresh pain crashing over him with the coming of memories, making him wince and groan. They’d camped in the forest that night, lit blazing fires, and wrapped the dead in