A Time of Blood (Of Blood and Bone #2) - John Gwynne Page 0,136

nodded.

“Good,” she said. “Now that I have found you, I would not lose you again. I say that as your kin, but also as the high captain of this Order, because I see in you the makings of a fine warrior. We know that you can handle yourself in a fight. Keld and Cullen have told me in detail of the journey here from Kergard. And I’ve seen you put Cullen on his arse, which isn’t the easiest of things to do.” Byrne smiled fondly. “And Keld tells me you are as skilled as any of our huntsmen, more than most. Keld does not make high praise of anyone. Except Sig. So, I am hoping that you will stay, will join us, will take the Oath.”

“The Oath?” Drem asked.

“Aye. When those who have undergone the training have passed their warrior trials here, they take an oath and join the Order. Pledging their lives to our cause. To protect those who cannot protect themselves, to fight the Kadoshim or any other evil that threatens the people of the Banished Lands.”

Drem liked the sound of that. All his life he had lived with no direction or goal, other than to hunt and survive. It had not entered his mind, not seemed necessary at the time. His life had felt fulfilled, happy in the presence of his father. Now, though, so much had changed. He felt as if stones had been removed from his eyes and that he saw the world clearly for the first time.

And it was not a safe place.

Gulla, Ferals, Revenants. I cannot turn my back on the evil they do, will continue to do. Walking away is cowardice, allowing others to stand against it.

“I would like to take the Oath,” Drem said. He frowned. “Though I have already made one of my own.”

“And what oath is that?” Byrne said.

“To kill Asroth.”

Byrne blinked at that, then chuckled. “You are Neve and Olin’s blood, and no denying. They would be so proud of you,” Byrne said.

I hope so.

“I think the two oaths are linked, so there would be no conflict there for you,” Byrne said.

“That’s what I was thinking,” Drem said. He drew his seax, running a finger along the blade, smooth and pitted steel now, no sign of the runes Keld had revealed with his word of power.

“Do I need the Starstone Sword to kill Asroth, or will my seax do the job? My father forged this, and Keld showed me runes that he had carved into the blade.”

Byrne took the seax, turning it in her hand.

“It is heavy,” she remarked. Hefted it, testing its balance. “A fine blade, well weighted. But Asroth is encased in starstone metal. To cut that you would need a blade forged from starstone.” She handed it back to him. “You have Olin’s sword, too.”

“I need to learn to use it. I feel more comfortable with this,” Drem said as he sheathed his seax.

“Olin’s blade will be rune-marked as well. Rare weapons.”

“Doesn’t every warrior of the Order have a rune-marked blade?” Drem asked.

“No.” Byrne shook her head. “Only those who have learned of the earth power. And there are not many that do that.”

“Why?”

Byrne studied Drem for long moments.

“I am usually a good judge of character,” she said, turning on her heel and walking away. “Come with me.”

Drem followed and they moved into an adjoining room. Byrne placed her hand against a stone wall and whispered something. There was a pulse of light, a glow leaving her fingertips and rippling through the stone, like veins, and then the outline of a door was visible. Byrne pulled it open and disappeared inside.

“Come on,” her voice echoed back out to him.

Drem stepped into a stairwell, flickering torches in sconces on the walls. Wide steps spiralled downwards.

“It is a great responsibility, the earth power,” Byrne said to him as he hurried to catch up with her. “I do not choose lightly who I will give that power to.”

Drem remembered Cullen complaining that he was not considered responsible enough yet to learn the earth power.

“You pick who learns, then?” Drem asked, gazing around him as they wound deeper and deeper.

“The high captain of the Order chooses, yes,” Byrne said. “Since Corban and Cywen, that has been the way, here.”

Drem nodded, thinking about that.

The staircase opened out onto a tunnel, wide and high, Byrne leading Drem on. It continued to slope downwards.

“What is this place?” Drem asked.

“A few things, but above all, a bolthole,” Byrne said. “There are a number