A Time of Dread (Of Blood and Bone #1) - John Gwynne Page 0,115

message is for the eyes of Sig, and for Byrne, of the Order of the Bright Star. If either of you still live. I am Drem, son of Olin, who was once a warrior of your Order. I have only discovered this recently, and also that I am blood-kin to Byrne. I am writing to tell you both that my father, Olin, is dead. I suspect he was murdered, and I don’t know what to do. Strange things.’ Sig paused there, looking up at them. ‘The word strange has been scored through here, replaced with sinister,’ she said, then looked back to the parchment.

‘Sinister things are happening. Men and women abducted, bound and slain, a great bonfire. Newcomers with murder in their hearts. I don’t know what to do. I know that my da was part of your Order, once, though he walked away a long time ago, and he has spoken to me of you, Byrne, and you, Sig, with great affection. If that counts for anything, after so many years have passed, then I would ask for your help. I would ask you to help me bring my da justice. I have thought on leaving Kergard and coming to you in person, but my heart will not let me leave while my da is unavenged.’

Sig looked up, feeling her blood stir, a cold anger, a white flame in her belly. A silence filled the stable.

‘Little Drem,’ Keld whispered, ‘Byrne’s nephew. The Ben-Elim wanted him as a ward, and Byrne said no. You used to sit him on the Stone of Heroes so that he’d stop chopping at your shins while you were teaching sword-skills.’

‘Aye.’ Sig smiled at the memory.

‘What do you want to do?’ Cullen asked.

‘I’m going to do as he asks,’ Sig said, ‘Byrne wants her nephew back – I’ve had to talk her out of coming with me. She’s needed here with all that’s happening. It sounds as if the Kadoshim are moving in the Desolation as well, so I’m going to poke a nose in and see what I can find. And more than that, I’m going to find some justice for my sword-brother and friend, Olin, and I’m going to bring Drem back to Dun Seren. He’s one of us. Was born here. This is his home.’ She looked at them both. ‘I’m asking you both to come with me. You’re my crew.’ She shrugged. ‘You don’t have to. I know what the morrow is, would not think less of either of you for wanting to stay.’

‘Of course I’m coming,’ Keld said, tightening his belt and looking for a cloak, as if he were going to walk out and head north right then and there.

‘But, what about Midwinter’s Day? The Remembrance? The feast. The drinking!’ Cullen said.

‘We’ll leave on the morrow, stay for the Naming, be away right after, long before highsun.’

‘But, the evening feast, the toast to the fallen,’ Cullen said. He knew the weight that Sig put upon honouring their fallen sword-kin, but Sig suspected he also looked forward to the evening feast for his own reasons.

‘It is good and right to honour the dead,’ Sig said. ‘But I’ll not turn my back on a brother that needs us.’

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CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

RIV

Crows lurched into the air at Riv’s arrival in the town square, squawking a raucous protest as they abandoned their grisly feast. A choked cry escaped from Riv’s lips as she stared at the mound of heads. It stood twice as tall as her, wide at the base, steam curling up in clouds from the rotting skulls. Most had red holes for eyes, flesh ripped and torn into tatters, the dull gleam of bone beneath. A stench of decay and putrefaction rolled out from the mound clawing into Riv’s nose and mouth like rotting fingers. She retched, turned away and vomited onto the dirt.

There was the sound of marching footsteps, growing louder, and somewhere above and behind her the rush of air, the beating of wings. The scrape of a sword drawn from its scabbard.

‘Turn around, slowly,’ a voice said behind her, calm and cold. ‘Reach for your blade and you’ll die.’

A jolt of fear like bright sunlight burned through the red haze that had been driving her feet and fogging her head. Suddenly cold to her toes, Riv turned slowly, making sure her hands stayed well away from her belt and the hilt of her dagger.

Kol was staring at her, white wings flexed, ready for flight, a bright sword levelled at her