A Time of Blood (Of Blood and Bone #2) - John Gwynne Page 0,131

the butt of his war-hammer on Cullen’s chest.

Cullen slashed at Balur’s ankles with his sword, just missing.

Balur leaned on his war-hammer, just enough, Cullen wheezing out a flood of air, gasping.

Horns sounded, from the eastern wall. Heads turned to look.

Balur took his war-hammer from Cullen’s chest.

“Ha, you’re lucky the horns saved you, One-Eye,” Cullen said, trying to rise from the ground, grimacing and failing, but Balur was already walking away, following the sound of the horns.

Alcyon the giant stepped close and offered Cullen his hand.

“He tricked me,” Cullen complained of Balur as Alcyon heaved him upright.

“Aye,” Alcyon said with a grin, “and in battle, you would be dead and Balur alive. Tricks are part of fighting, remember?” Alcyon leaned close to Cullen, wagging a thick finger at him. “There’s no complaining when you’re dead.”

“I thought Balur always fought with honour,” Cullen muttered.

“Ach, the young are always too trusting,” Alcyon said. “That’s why you die quicker. Us old men; well, we are old for a reason.”

Beside Riv, Drem nodded, grunting, as if he’d heard those words before.

Riv saw fingers pointing skyward, and a new Ben-Elim was high in the sky above them, spiralling down to the weapons-field. He saw Kol and alighted before him, dropping to one knee.

“Rise,” Kol said, “and tell me your news.”

“There is a warband of Kadoshim on the eastern road, moving towards Drassil,” the Ben-Elim said. “They command men and Feral beasts and other things.”

Mutters rippled through the crowd in the field.

Kol looked at Byrne. “I must leave immediately,” he said. “Delay your march into the Desolation until you hear from me.”

“What measures has Hadran taken?” Kol asked the Ben-Elim messenger.

“He was mustering the White-Wings as I left and was sending out the Sirak. They are mounted and will move faster than the White-Wings.”

Kol nodded.

The Sirak? Has Bleda gone to war? Riv felt a worm of worry uncoil in her belly.

“With me,” Kol yelled and leaped into the air, wings beating, lifting him higher. His Ben-Elim followed, Riv lingering a moment, looking around the courtyard. She realized that she liked it here, felt some kind of kinship with those she had met. She looked up, at Kol.

But that is my father up there, no matter what else he may be, and he is flying to war, which is what I’ve been trained for, all my life.

She bent her knees and leaped, her dappled wings snapping open and powering her skywards. Soon she had caught up with Kol and they set their faces to the east, flying to war.

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

FRITHA

Fritha stood before the bed where Elise still lay. The linen sheets were sweat-stained, her face pale, the skin pallid and stretched, looking as if it would tear with a touch. Her eyes fluttered open, sensing Fritha’s presence.

Arn stood at Fritha’s shoulder.

“There must be more,” he said. Fritha could hear the heartbreak and desperation in his voice. “Something else you can do.”

“I have done all I know to heal her,” Fritha said. “Her lungs have recovered, but the bones in her back and legs are shattered. She is broken, Arn; she will never walk again.” It hurt Fritha to say it, hurt her more to look at Elise’s fractured, twisted frame. Elise had been a good friend to Fritha. More than a friend, closer than kin, saving Fritha from the dark abyss that she was plunging into when Arn and Elise had found her.

But the truth was the truth.

“Please,” Arn said. He reached out, his fingers brushing his daughter’s cheek.

“There is only one thing left that I can do,” Fritha said into the silence. “I can make her new…”

Arn froze, his fingers still on Elise’s cheek.

“But, she would no longer be Elise,” he said.

“She would, but better, stronger,” Fritha said. “This is not my decision. Or yours. Ask Elise what she would want.”

Arn stared at Fritha, then he leaned close to his daughter and whispered in her ear. It seemed to Fritha that he spoke to Elise for a very long while. Then Arn straightened.

They stood together, watching Elise.

A tear fell from Elise’s eye and rolled down her cheek. Then she nodded, a whisper escaping her lips.

“Death smiles at us all,” Elise breathed.

“All that we can do is smile back,” Fritha and Arn whispered in response.

“Do it,” Elise said, little more than a sigh.

“Gunil,” Fritha called, turning on her heel and striding out into daylight, “carry Elise to my table.”

Fritha sat on the end of her cot, her head in her hands. She blew out a long breath and