A Time of Blood (Of Blood and Bone #2) - John Gwynne Page 0,113
camp during the journey back to Dun Seren.
Tain was sitting silently beside him, looking up at the sky. It was a cloudless night, moon and stars a shimmering tapestry hanging above them.
Drem’s gaze shifted to Utul and Shar, who were also tending to weapons, swords and knives on their laps being oiled and scoured.
“You both look different from other warriors of the Order,” Drem said to them.
Shar looked sharply at him, making him blink.
Did I say that wrong? Da was always telling me I could be too straightforward. It’s so hard to know without him here to tell me. Drem felt a twist in his gut, a twinge of the always-present grief lurking deep in his bones.
“Well, our skin is darker than you northerners,” Shar said. She looked at him stonily.
“I don’t mean that,” Drem said, trying to explain. “There is just something about you. All of you…” He could not put into words the quiet confidence that exuded from the warriors or the graceful way they moved.
“We are different,” Utul said. “We are better.” He smiled at Cullen.
“You’ll have to prove that on the weapons-field when we get back,” Cullen told him.
“It will be my pleasure.” Utul grinned.
“And mine,” Shar said, though with less humour.
“Utul and his crew are different,” Alcyon grated. “You have good eyes to notice, little Drem.”
Little! Lad! Why do these warriors in the Order keep calling me these names?
“How so?” Drem asked.
“They are descended from Gar and the Jehar, and they take their lineage very seriously,” Alcyon said, not breaking time in the rasp and grind of his whetstone.
“The Jehar?” Drem asked.
“You’ve not heard of the Jehar?” Shar said, eyes widening.
“No.”
Shar tutted.
“The Jehar were the guardians of the Bright Star, of Corban,” Alcyon said. “Gar watched over Corban from when he was a bairn, protected him and taught him his swordcraft, and much more besides.” Alcyon paused in his axe-sharpening, eyes distant.
“You knew them?” Drem breathed.
“I did,” Alcyon said. “They were both great men.”
“So, what were the Jehar, exactly?” Drem asked.
“The greatest of warriors,” Shar said flatly. “Swordcraft, horsecraft, there was no one to equal them.”
Alcyon grunted and shrugged. “Give or take a warrior or two,” he rumbled.
“The Jehar came from the east,” Tain joined their conversation. “They lived in a fabled fortress called Telassar, the white-walled. It was there that they trained for many generations, dedicating their lives in preparation for the coming of the Bright Star.”
“And they tested their swordcraft on the Shekam,” Shar added.
“The Shekam?” Drem asked.
“A giant Clan from the east,” Tain explained. “They rode draigs into battle, like the Jotun ride bears.”
“Draigs!” Drem hissed, sharing a look with Cullen. “We met one of those in the Bonefells.” He shook his head. “I cannot imagine how it would feel to face a charge of them in battle.”
“I can,” Alcyon said, a smile twitching his moustache.
“Aye. I stood in the shield wall with Veradis.” Alcyon nodded. “We faced their charge.”
“What was it like?” Cullen asked eagerly.
He looks as if he wishes he was there!
Alcyon gazed down at his axe, took in a deep breath and sighed. “Not something I would choose to do again.”
I am not surprised by that, Drem thought, remembering the bone-shaking roar of the draig in the Bonefells. And that was just one. A charge of many would be unspeakable.
“Not much chance of that,” Tain said. “The Shekam were wiped out.”
“No, not wiped out,” Alcyon breathed. “Defeated, routed. But there were survivors. I watched them ride away on their draigs.”
“I did not know that,” Tain said. “It should go in the histories.”
“It is not a part of my life that I wish to recall,” Alcyon grated. “They were… dark days.”
“Does Mother know?”
Mother?
“Is Tain your son?” Drem asked Alcyon in his usual forthright way.
Alcyon nodded, smiled, ruffled Tain’s already-scruffy black hair. Something about the action was endearing and made Drem miss his da for a sharp heartbeat all over again.
“Does Mother know?” Tain asked again.
“Raina knows.” Alcyon shrugged. “Though it would not affect her. She is in the wilds of Arcona, not Tarbesh.”
“Tarbesh is a lot closer to Arcona than we are,” Tain said.
“Why is your mother in Arcona?” Drem asked.
“On a fool’s errand.” Alcyon growled, looking back to his axe.
“She is searching for survivors of our old Clan, the Kurgan,” Tain said. “She has been gone many years, now.”