A Time of Blood (Of Blood and Bone #2) - John Gwynne Page 0,98

the steps. Two of them giants, one a woman, regal and dark, a spear in her hand, the other male, slimmer than Balur and Alcyon, with a tangled mess of hair. But Drem’s eyes were drawn to the figure between them. A stern-faced woman, her dark hair tied back to her nape, dressed in simple leathers, the bright star embossed upon her surcoat. A curved sword arched across her back.

Balur halted at the bottom of the steps, the others spreading either side of him, except for Keld, who strode up the steps and stopped before the dark-haired woman.

“Byrne, High Captain of the Order of the Bright Star,” Keld greeted her. “I report the fall of our sword-sister, Sig, of the Jotun Clan.” He looked from Byrne to the crowd gathered in the courtyard and on the walls. “She fought bravely,” Keld called out, his voice cracking, “and gave her life that we might live.”

A memory flashed into Drem’s mind, of Sig ordering Keld and Cullen to tie her to a post because her legs were failing her and she wished to fight on to her last breath, buying them precious moments to escape into the night. Emotion swelled in his chest. He had not known Sig long, but somehow he had felt a bond to her, and that was a rare thing for him. Perhaps it was because of their shared love of Drem’s father, Olin, and the scattered, faint memories Drem had of Sig, from when he had lived at Dun Seren.

Keld bowed his head and handed Byrne the folded bundle in his hand. She took it, unwrapping it carefully, to reveal Sig’s cloak-brooch, a silver four-pointed star.

“Sig will be sorely missed,” Byrne said, holding the star up high for all to see. “She will be grieved, and she shall be avenged.”

Drem felt a shiver run through his body at Byrne’s words, and he believed her, completely and utterly.

“We shall never forget,” Byrne called out, and the crowd echoed her, Drem instinctively adding his voice to theirs. A silence fell over the courtyard, just the snap and ripple of banners in a cold wind.

“Change and eat,” Byrne said to Keld, reaching out and squeezing his wrist, “and then report to me.” She walked past Keld, down the stone steps, nodding to Stepor and Cullen, but her eyes were fixed on Drem. She stood before him, looking up at him, and slowly a gentle smile spread across her face, softening her stern features.

“Drem ben Olin, my sister’s son, welcome to Dun Seren,” Byrne said, and then wrapped her arms around him and pulled him into a tight embrace.

CHAPTER THIRTY

BLEDA

Bleda sat at a desk in his chamber, scratching a quill across parchment. Mirim, Tuld and Ruga stood before him.

“This one is for you,” Bleda said, waving a parchment strip at Mirim. She took it and read aloud.

“Maple wood. Tendons from the leg of an auroch. Auroch horn.”

Bleda tore another strip, wrote on it and passed it to Ruga.

“Fish glue, made from sturgeon. A bone from a stallion,” she read.

“And for you,” Bleda said as he passed the last strip to Tuld.

“Oak and felt,” Tuld read, raising an eyebrow. They all knew what these ingredients were for.

I am going to make a Sirak bow.

“May I build you the conditioning box as well, my Prince?” Tuld asked. “My father is renowned for his skill at building these boxes, and he taught me the art.”

“You may,” Bleda said.

They stood before him, all wanting to ask why he was making a bow, or who for, but their deference to his rank forbade them such informality.

“Go on, then, away with you all,” Bleda said, “and remember, only the ingredients I’ve asked for. Tell the traders the Prince of the Sirak requests it, and nothing else will do. Fish glue, from a sturgeon.” He wagged a finger at Ruga. “Not hide glue. And only the tendons from the lower leg of an auroch, nowhere else,” he said to Mirim.

“Of course, my Prince,” Ruga and Mirim nodded together.

“Well then, what are you all waiting for?”

“You will be left unguarded,” Tuld said.

“Unguarded, in my own chamber, with two score of my honour guard in the feast-hall below, and Old Ellac lurking in the shadows in the corridor outside?”

Tuld nodded, a little begrudgingly, Bleda thought, but he turned and left the room, Ruga and Mirim following him.

Bleda leaned back in his chair and let out a long sigh. Then he smiled, a small expression of the depth of joy that