A Time of Dread (Of Blood and Bone #1) - John Gwynne Page 0,16

Drem’s axe lay amongst the forest litter close to where he’d fallen, beside it a claw, long and curled, a tuft of fur and flesh still attached to it where the axe had severed it from the bear’s paw.

‘There’s a keepsake for you,’ Olin said as he crouched and passed the claw to Drem, who whistled while turning it in his hand, the claw measuring from the tip of his finger to his wrist.

‘Not that you’ll need reminding of that beast,’ his da said.

‘Not likely,’ Drem muttered, the claw bringing back a kaleidoscope of memories of him lying on his back staring at the onrushing bear.

They found his da’s axe close by, its blade blood-crusted black.

‘Good axe, that,’ his da said with a smile, ‘Glad not to have seen the last of it.’

Their camp was mostly untouched, the piles of furs where they’d left them. One of their packhorses had slipped its rope but they found it only a few hundred paces away, contentedly eating grass. Something had been through the leftovers of their supper and ripped open a bag of cheese but, judging by the teeth marks, it was more the size of a weasel or stoat than a giant bear. It did not take long for them to break camp and soon they were winding their way back down the hillslope, leading three ponies, all piled high with bundled furs and kit. It was close to sunset but they’d agreed to get as far away from this spot as possible before darkness forced them to stop. Drem felt much better for a thick cloak about his shoulders, the spear he held in his hand and the axe hanging at his belt, not that weapons had done him or his da much good yesterday.

When they reached the elk pit Drem marvelled again at the carnage caused by one beast. Looking into it, something else caught his eye. Not a gleam, more the opposite: a matt darkness. Something black and solid.

Drem scrambled into the pit, careful not to take any weight on his injured ankle as he dropped the last few handspans, then crouched in the soil.

‘What is it?’ his da called from at the pit’s rim.

‘I don’t know,’ Drem answered as he scraped and dug at his feet. Then he sat back, frowning.

It looked like a slab of rock, black and pitted. It was roughly the length of his forearm, loosely shaped like a teardrop, cold to the touch. As Drem tried to pull it free of the soil around it, he realized it was heavy, much heavier than he would have expected of a slab of granite, or iron ore of a similar size.

Feet thumped to the ground beside him as Olin joined him.

‘What is it?’ his da asked again.

‘You remember I hit something hard when I was digging the pit – you called it the mountain’s roots,’ Drem said.

‘Aye. It was a joke,’ Olin muttered.

‘I think this is what I hit. The bear’s claws have raked around it, dug it free.’ Drem shuffled aside to show his da, who crouched down and reached out to touch the rock. He pulled his hand away, hissing as if he’d been burned or bitten.

‘What’s wrong?’ Drem asked.

Olin looked pale. ‘Get me my shovel,’ he said.

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CHAPTER FIVE

SIG

Sig sat in her saddle, hunched over from the rain, and stared into the darkness. Beneath her, Hammer shifted her huge paws and gave a low, grumbling growl, more a vibration in the great bear’s belly that shivered up through Sig’s bones than an audible sound. Horses whinnied and stamped, no doubt unsettled by the great mass of muscle and teeth that they were standing with, too close for their liking.

It is not so easy for a giant such as I to stay hidden, but silence is at the heart of it, and I am making a better job of it than they are!

Sig frowned admonishingly down at the men gathered about her, even if the closest rider to her was Elgin, Battlechief of Ardain. He looked old to her in the darkness, deep lines in his face, though his straight back and the strength of his grip when she had arrived had told her all she needed to know.

It is not the first time we have hunted and fought together. Not many that I’d trust at my side beyond my sword-kin, but he is one of them.

Once this would have been unthinkable to her: a giant of the Jotun Clan, standing amongst the race