Valour by John Gwynne Read Free Book Online Page B

words. ‘I see the sense of it. But I’d rather be doing something, fighting rather than running away. And I know we’ve all lost
people, but there are still others that we’ve left behind in Dun Carreg, others that still live. More warriors to join our cause, and others. Defenceless others, like my Fion . . .’
    He dropped his gaze, staring into the fire.
    Fion, his wife
, Corban thought.
That must be hard on him.
    ‘My troubles are my own,’ Marrock said, lifting his head, ‘and my duty is to protect Edana, but still, running away, allowing Owain to just hunt down and kill any that would
stand against him in Edana’s name; it does not sit well with me. And the thought of Owain sitting in Brenin’s feast-hall . . .’ His lip curled in a snarl and others around the
fire muttered their agreement.
    Corban looked between Halion and Marrock, could see the sense in both arguments. He leaned towards Halion; he knew from hard lessons in the Rowan Field that Halion had a strategic mind, and
patience.
He believes there is more chance of success if we retreat now, plan to fight another day
. Marrock’s argument stirred his passion, though. Part of him did not want to run.
    ‘It angers me too,’ another voice said, Edana’s finally. She was still staring at the flames. There were scars on her cheeks where she had clawed them in her grief at
Alona’s death. They gave her a feral, inhuman quality. ‘And I will take it back from him. But for now Halion’s plan is a good one. I need time.’ She looked at Halion and
nodded curtly to him. Slowly a silence draped itself over them all.
    Twigs snapped and there was a scuffling sound in the darkness beyond the firelight’s reach, a hulking figure taking shape out of the shadows. It was Storm, the carcass of a deer hanging
from her jaws.
    She padded through the group and dropped the deer at Corban’s feet, nudged it towards him and waited.
    ‘Seems you’re pack leader,’ Halion said.
    ‘She thinks so.’ Corban placed a hand on the deer, accepting Storm’s gift. He drew his knife and began to skin the carcass.
    Not long after, Corban was licking hot fat off his fingers and wiping it from his chin. Storm was curled at his feet, cracking one of the leg bones between her teeth, gnawing at the marrow.
    Gwenith leaned over and squeezed Corban’s hand. ‘It is time to talk,’ she said quietly. Without looking at him, she stood and walked away, to the edge of the firelight. Gar
rose with Corban and followed.
    When he reached her, Gwenith took Corban’s hand and led him beyond the firelight. She sat down beside a smooth-barked rowan, patting the grass in front of her.
    Hesitantly he sat, feeling anxious. It was not as dark here as it appeared from beside the fire. Moonlight silvered his mam’s hair and played on her face. Much was still in shadow, but he
could see enough to know that she was troubled. She chewed her bottom lip. Gar sat next to her, watching Corban with an intensity that was unsettling.
    ‘There is much to tell you, Ban,’ his mam said, a tremor in her voice. ‘Almost too much. Now that we are here, I hardly know where to start . . .’ she trailed off.
    ‘Whatever it is, can’t it wait?’ Corban said. ‘We are all half-blind with grief and exhaustion?’
    ‘I know,’ his mam said, ‘but—’
    ‘It cannot wait,’ Gar interrupted. ‘With each day we are travelling further from our true destination.’
    ‘I don’t understand.’
    ‘First,’ his mam said fiercely, ‘remember this. I love you. We love you. And know that whatever we have done, and will do, it has come from trying to do right. To protect you,
and to serve Elyon.’
    ‘Elyon?’ said Corban.
    His mam nodded.
    Elyon, the All-Father, had always seemed just a distant name to Corban, someone or something that he knew about but that never directly affected him. He remembered Brina telling him about the
All-Father, how he had given authority to mankind over all creation, and