feeling almost pleasant this time.
‘Aye, but still. They are Elementals – maybe they used a glamour,’ Aguila said.
‘Maybe,’ agreed Maquin, reaching for the skin in Kastell’s hand.
‘They are sly and fierce, the Hunen,’ Aguila said.
‘I know it,’ muttered Kastell.
‘You’ve had dealings with them, then?’ Aguila asked.
‘The Hunen slew his kin, the man I was oathsworn to,’ Maquin said darkly.
Kastell closed his eyes, remembering the hulking shapes striding through the broken gates of his hold, swinging their great-hammers and war-axes, outlined by flames. He shuddered. He had been
six years old. He wished Aguila would stop talking about it. Silently he took the skin back from Maquin and drank some more.
‘Did they ransom you?’ Aguila asked.
‘The Hunen do not take prisoners,’ Kastell said. ‘Maquin saved me, carried me away.’
‘The Hunen are raiders, murderers, nothing more,’ Maquin growled.
Kastell wiggled his fingers, making the sign against evil.
Aguila saw the movement and smiled. ‘You need not worry about giants now, lad. We are forty blades strong, and besides I’d wager you know how to use that sword of yours. Elyon above
knows it’s sharp enough.’ He glanced at the whetstone, and winked at Maquin.
‘Are you mocking me?’ Kastell asked, feeling his temper stir. ‘Been talking to Jael, have you?’ he growled. He felt blood rushing to his face and his hand moved to hover
over his sword hilt. Aguila’s easy smile vanished, his expression hardening.
‘Have a care,’ the warrior said as he rose. ‘Romar’s kin or no, it won’t protect you always.’
Kastell glared at Aguila’s back as he walked away.
‘See how I am mocked,’ Kastell muttered, ‘because Jael does, all others think me fair game, think I can be scorned.’ He ground his teeth.
Maquin took a long deep breath. ‘Sometimes, Kas, you see enemies where there are none.’ Maquin shook his head. ‘Aguila meant nothing by it. Surely you understand
that?’
Kastell snorted.
‘I did not want to have this conversation with you,’ Maquin said, ‘have stopped myself many times, hoping you would see it for yourself. When you passed your trials and Long
Night, became a man, I thought it would end.’ He shook his head. ‘It is about time you heard some truths, I think. Jael has not turned all against you, even if he tries to. You are not
considered by all as a figure to be scorned. But many do think you haughty, arrogant. Too proud to mix with the rest of us. There is much good in you, Kas, but take care lest it is buried beneath a
cairn of self-pity. Your da would be disappointed, to hear you speak so.’ With that he rose and walked away, leaving Kastell sitting wide-eyed in the grass.
He sat alone the rest of the night, listening to the quiet talk and murmured songs that rose from the other travellers. As most of the camp descended into sleep, Maquin told Kastell he was on
the next watch. Silently he walked out of the ring of wains and took himself to the rim of the camp.
Self-pity
, he thought, scowling in the dark, wavering between anger and shame.
He pulled his cloak tighter, a chill wind blowing through the mountains, the moonlight fleeting as clouds scudded across the sky. He was still shocked at Maquin’s words to him and spent
his watch mulling over them. Grudgingly he reached the conclusion that Maquin was right, leaving him embarrassed, angry, mostly at himself for behaving the way he had, but also at others: Maquin,
Aguila, many, faceless others for misunderstanding him. He had acted like a child, a sulky, spoilt child. Alongside those feelings, though, was a faint glimmer of hope. The thought that most of the
fortress was not in league with Jael, in a pact to goad and bait him, was a good one. He made a decision then, in the dead of night.
In the morning
, he told himself. When his watch candle
guttered and went out, he lit a new one from the dying embers of the fire,
‘Aye, but still. They are Elementals – maybe they used a glamour,’ Aguila said.
‘Maybe,’ agreed Maquin, reaching for the skin in Kastell’s hand.
‘They are sly and fierce, the Hunen,’ Aguila said.
‘I know it,’ muttered Kastell.
‘You’ve had dealings with them, then?’ Aguila asked.
‘The Hunen slew his kin, the man I was oathsworn to,’ Maquin said darkly.
Kastell closed his eyes, remembering the hulking shapes striding through the broken gates of his hold, swinging their great-hammers and war-axes, outlined by flames. He shuddered. He had been
six years old. He wished Aguila would stop talking about it. Silently he took the skin back from Maquin and drank some more.
‘Did they ransom you?’ Aguila asked.
‘The Hunen do not take prisoners,’ Kastell said. ‘Maquin saved me, carried me away.’
‘The Hunen are raiders, murderers, nothing more,’ Maquin growled.
Kastell wiggled his fingers, making the sign against evil.
Aguila saw the movement and smiled. ‘You need not worry about giants now, lad. We are forty blades strong, and besides I’d wager you know how to use that sword of yours. Elyon above
knows it’s sharp enough.’ He glanced at the whetstone, and winked at Maquin.
‘Are you mocking me?’ Kastell asked, feeling his temper stir. ‘Been talking to Jael, have you?’ he growled. He felt blood rushing to his face and his hand moved to hover
over his sword hilt. Aguila’s easy smile vanished, his expression hardening.
‘Have a care,’ the warrior said as he rose. ‘Romar’s kin or no, it won’t protect you always.’
Kastell glared at Aguila’s back as he walked away.
‘See how I am mocked,’ Kastell muttered, ‘because Jael does, all others think me fair game, think I can be scorned.’ He ground his teeth.
Maquin took a long deep breath. ‘Sometimes, Kas, you see enemies where there are none.’ Maquin shook his head. ‘Aguila meant nothing by it. Surely you understand
that?’
Kastell snorted.
‘I did not want to have this conversation with you,’ Maquin said, ‘have stopped myself many times, hoping you would see it for yourself. When you passed your trials and Long
Night, became a man, I thought it would end.’ He shook his head. ‘It is about time you heard some truths, I think. Jael has not turned all against you, even if he tries to. You are not
considered by all as a figure to be scorned. But many do think you haughty, arrogant. Too proud to mix with the rest of us. There is much good in you, Kas, but take care lest it is buried beneath a
cairn of self-pity. Your da would be disappointed, to hear you speak so.’ With that he rose and walked away, leaving Kastell sitting wide-eyed in the grass.
He sat alone the rest of the night, listening to the quiet talk and murmured songs that rose from the other travellers. As most of the camp descended into sleep, Maquin told Kastell he was on
the next watch. Silently he walked out of the ring of wains and took himself to the rim of the camp.
Self-pity
, he thought, scowling in the dark, wavering between anger and shame.
He pulled his cloak tighter, a chill wind blowing through the mountains, the moonlight fleeting as clouds scudded across the sky. He was still shocked at Maquin’s words to him and spent
his watch mulling over them. Grudgingly he reached the conclusion that Maquin was right, leaving him embarrassed, angry, mostly at himself for behaving the way he had, but also at others: Maquin,
Aguila, many, faceless others for misunderstanding him. He had acted like a child, a sulky, spoilt child. Alongside those feelings, though, was a faint glimmer of hope. The thought that most of the
fortress was not in league with Jael, in a pact to goad and bait him, was a good one. He made a decision then, in the dead of night.
In the morning
, he told himself. When his watch candle
guttered and went out, he lit a new one from the dying embers of the fire,
Similar Books
