A Time of Blood (Of Blood and Bone #2) - John Gwynne Page 0,103

I knew they would be coming for me. I thought about running here, but it’s a long walk from Kergard to Dun Seren, and I thought they’d catch me in the wild. Better to fight them there, at my home, where I knew the ground, and could… prepare.”

Keld snorted. “Prepare is an understatement,” he said.

Byrne looked at him, raised an eyebrow.

“He dug an elk pit, in the grip of winter, and then sank a dozen spears into it. And that wasn’t all. A nail trap, a bear trap, a mini-stampede, and he blew up a barn. On purpose.” Keld smiled, like a proud, maniacal father.

“Impressive,” Byrne said with a small smile.

“I like this Drem ben Olin,” Balur rumbled to Ethlinn.

Was that supposed to be a whisper?

“And then?” Byrne asked. Drem looked to Keld.

“That’s when we found him,” Keld said, “a rope around his neck, legs kicking as he hung from a tree. We slew the few Drem had left for us.” Keld continued the recounting of the tale. He spoke of their decision to spy out the mine, discovering Gulla and his half-breed children, Fritha as some kind of witch priestess and the dread ceremony where Asroth’s severed hand was used to transform Gulla into a Revenant. Their attempt to sneak away and the betrayal by Ulf of Kergard, and the ensuing battle.

“Sig was mortally wounded, a blow from the Starstone Sword severing the artery in her groin,” Keld said. Cullen was sitting with his head bowed, knuckles white in his lap. “She was bleeding out, nothing that any of us could do. She ordered us to strap her to a post so that she could guard our retreat.”

A silence fell over the room. Drem saw the respect and love that all there held for Sig. Tears were rolling down Tain’s cheeks.

“Poor Sig,” Craf croaked.

“We shall never forget,” Byrne said quietly, Keld, Stepor and Cullen whispering the words.

“I’ll have Gunil’s head on a spike for this,” Balur growled.

“And Fritha’s,” Drem said.

Another silence settled amongst them. Byrne let out a long, slow breath.

“What now, then?” Cullen asked.

“Muster, kill Gulla,” Craf squawked.

“That is the short of it,” Byrne said. “Word has gone out to every outpost. The full strength of the Order of the Bright Star is gathering here. As soon as we are ready, we shall ride out for the Starstone Lake and put an end to this.” She looked to Ethlinn. “What are your plans in all of this?” Byrne asked her.

“I will march with you,” Ethlinn said. “We have been searching for Gulla’s nest for a hundred years. I will not miss this now. It could be the end of this war, the culmination of all that Corban and Cywen built your Order to achieve.”

“It could,” Byrne said, a cold ferocity in her voice.

“What of the Ben-Elim?” Stepor asked.

“We have had no word from Drassil for close to two moons. I fear something is amiss, there.” Byrne shrugged. “We do not need the Ben-Elim or their White-Wings for this. Tain will send a crow to tell them of Gulla, and what we are doing. They may wish to join us. If so, they can ask politely.”

“Talking of crows,” Stepor said, “I’m worried about Flick. He was our rearguard, and I’ve not seen him for a ten-night. It’s not right. I’ve a bad feeling about it.”

“Craf’s Flick is missing!” Craf squawked, flapping his wings and arching his back.

“Most of your crows are out in the Desolation,” Tain said soothingly. “If Flick is not back by the time they’ve returned to us, we shall let them all search for him.”

“Craf go search,” the black crow squawked, flexing his wings. A feather floated down to the ground.

“Craf, you can’t fly far these days. Let your strong children do it.”

Craf sighed. “Craf worried,” he said, his head bobbing.

“I am, too,” Tain said, staring out of one of the large windows, looking onto the Desolation.

“How long,” Balur said to Byrne, “until you are ready to ride?”

“At best, half a moon, perhaps longer,” Byrne said. “We cannot linger, but it would be foolish to ride out at half-strength.”

“Agreed,” Ethlinn said.

“Then we will train hard while we can.” Balur shrugged, a ripple of muscle. “I shall let little Cullen show me some of his swordcraft.”

“You sure you’re not too old and slow?” Cullen said. “I would not wish to hurt you.”

“I’ll show you how old and slow I am, you yapping pup,” Balur growled.

Cullen grinned.

Byrne dismissed them then, telling Drem she would lead him to his