A Time of Dread (Of Blood and Bone #1) - John Gwynne Page 0,138

of steel. Other giants followed, a score, two score, three score, all mounted. Bleda saw Alcyon amongst their ranks; the giant saw him and nodded a greeting, a broad grin splitting his face.

That giant is uncommonly good-humoured, Bleda thought, dipping his head in answer. Alcyon had saved his life, after all, and Bleda was keenly aware of that debt.

Ethlinn led them out through the gates of Drassil, the column turning north and disappearing from view.

There was a beating of wings and Bleda looked up to see a Ben-Elim alighting beside them: Kol with his golden hair and his easy smile.

‘We have come as you asked,’ Jin said to him.

‘My thanks,’ Kol said, stepping close to her and resting a hand upon her shoulder. Bleda was surprised that she did not pull away.

‘Though if it was to watch giants riding off into the distance,’ Bleda said, eyes still fixed on Kol’s hand upon Jin’s shoulder, ‘I’d rather have heard about it while sat beside a fire-pit.’

‘Them? No, I did not ask you here to watch Ethlinn ride out,’ Kol said, finally stepping away from Jin. ‘Better to watch tar dry, I think.’ He grinned, and Jin half laughed.

‘Where are they going, though?’ Bleda said. ‘That must be every last giant in Drassil.’

‘Do not fear for your safety, you are well guarded by my Ben-Elim and White-Wings,’ Kol said, his tone and smile softening the insult in his words, but Bleda still bridled.

‘I am not afraid,’ he managed to say through the thin line of his lips.

‘Of course you aren’t,’ Kol said. ‘A poor jest, I apologize. To answer your question, they are going to Dun Seren. These are dark times, and the enemies of the Kadoshim must unite against them. Ethlinn and Balur have a better relationship with the Order of the Bright Star than we Ben-Elim do, and so they are better placed to speak with them, to share information and come away with an agreed plan of attack against the Kadoshim.’

‘We will attack the Kadoshim, then?’ Bleda asked. A shiver of fear ran through him at that prospect, but a fresh understanding of its importance, as well.

‘Oh, aye, if we can find them,’ Kol said, no smile now, just a cold hatred radiating from his eyes. ‘When we find them.’

The sound of a horn echoed down from the battlements over the gates.

‘Ah, here they are,’ Kol said, smiling again, emotions shifting like the breeze.

‘Here who are?’ Bleda asked.

A rumble, low and distant, quickly growing. Jin heard it, too, cocking her head.

‘Hooves. Many riders,’ Bleda said.

‘Aye,’ Kol agreed easily. ‘About two hundred, I think.’

The rumble grew to a roar and then riders were pouring through Drassil’s gates, and Bleda’s heart was soaring, because he saw the banner of a white horse upon a green field above them, Sirak warriors in their deels of grey pouring through the gates, heads shaved, warrior braids tugged by the wind, and behind them more riders, a blue banner with a stooping hawk upon it.

‘Our honour guard,’ Jin breathed, a grin slipping through her control, a hand reaching out to squeeze Bleda’s.

The Sirak and Cheren riders swept into the courtyard of Drassil, two hundred of them, the riders merging, grey of Sirak and blue of Cheren a blurred whirlwind galloping around the courtyard’s edge. Then they were separating, regrouping, Bleda and Jin staring in unadulterated joy, cold-faces forgotten for a few glorious heartbeats, and then the riders were slowing, forming up before Bleda and Jin.

Bleda forced his cold-face back into place, even though his heart was pounding with the joy of seeing his kin, a fierce pride at the mounted skill of Sirak warriors. One of them drew up before him, face a map of deep lines, and Bleda breathed deep to hold back the smile that wanted to spill onto his own face. Old Ellac upon a black horse, the rest of Bleda’s honour guard falling into place behind the old warrior.

And then the courtyard was still, dust settling, a horse whickering.

Ellac dismounted, behind him a hundred others did the same, and those gathered before Jin followed suit. And then they were all dropping to their knees, heads bowing to touch the cold stone of the courtyard.

Bleda just stood and stared at them, not knowing what to say, a storm of emotions swirling through him.

‘Welcome to Drassil,’ Kol shouted, spreading arms and wings wide in greeting.

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CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Drem

Drem stumbled into his yard, feet and hands half-numb, still clutching his spear with frozen fingers, his vision