stablemaster. ‘I don’t want to do this,’ he muttered. ‘You and mam . . .’ He could not
find the words to express how he felt, did not know where to start.
‘This way,’ Gar said, walking away. With a scowl, Corban followed; Storm uncurled and padded after them.
Marrock was standing guard, the shadow of his body merging with the tree he was leaning against. He looked inquisitively at Gar and Corban.
Gar stopped beside the stream. ‘Give me your sword,’ he said, then wrapped Corban’s blade with cloth, tied it tight and passed it back.
Without a word, Gar slid into the sword dance, his curved sword wrapped like Corban’s.
Sullenly Corban watched him, a host of questions and accusations swirling in his mind. There were so many things that he wanted to ask Gar about, but they were all linked to last night’s
conversation, and he had set his will to avoiding that subject at all costs. Gar paused, staring at him. ‘Don’t think; do. Questions, talking later, but this will help.’ He
resumed his fluid movements.
Corban sighed and raised his sword, stepping into
stooping falcon
, the first position of the sword dance. Skin and muscles around the wound on his back stretched and pulled, but he held
the pose, then moved smoothly into the next stance. Gar was right, soon Corban felt his mind calming, his thoughts draining away as he became lost in the rhythm of the dance.
Sunlight was dappling the ground and sparkling on the stream when he finished. Sweat dripped from his nose and the wound on his back pulsed dully. Gar faced him and raised his sword. Corban
shrugged and they began to spar, and slowly Corban became aware of movement around him. A quick glance showed him half a dozen figures from the camp watching them, but also earned him a crack to
the ribs from Gar.
‘Enough,’ the stablemaster declared.
Gar stripped the cloth from his and Corban’s swords, then began walking back to the camp, ignoring their audience. In no mood for conversation, Corban followed him, purposely avoiding
Brina’s stare.
Halion drew level with them and grasped Gar’s arm, halting him. ‘I need to talk to you,’ he said to Gar. The stablemaster stopped, drawing a deep breath.
‘You fight differently,’ Halion said. ‘I have travelled much of the west and seen nothing like your style.’
Gar just stared at Halion, expressionless.
‘Until the night Dun Carreg fell. The man you fought, Sumur. Marrock tells me there were many like him in the battle, that they opened Stonegate for Owain. You fought like this Sumur,
spoke with him. You knew him?’
Gar’s gaze flicked to Corban and back. ‘Yes.’
‘Tell me of him, of yourself. Who are you, where are you from?’
‘I have heard others ask the same questions of you, yet you have held your silence. My past is my own,’ Gar said.
‘True enough, my business is my own, and not a subject for gossip. But things are different now, and so I have spoken of my past. Because it was necessary. Now you know who I am, where I
am from, who my father is. It is necessary to hear these things from you. Do you know this Sumur?’
Gar closed his eyes and blew out a long breath. ‘I knew him, many years ago. Corban will tell you more, soon.’
Corban raised an eyebrow at that.
‘That is not good enough. I am Edana’s sword and shield, and you know more about her enemies than anyone else here – seemed almost to be one of them – I must understand
all that goes on, for Edana’s sake. Are you a danger to her?’
Gar sighed. ‘No, I am no danger to the princess. You saw that I fought Sumur – that must answer your fears. I would tell you more, but Corban should hear these things first, and
until he has I will speak no more of it, with you or any other.’
Halion still gripped Gar’s arm. He held the stablemaster’s gaze for long moments then let his hand drop. ‘I will wait, but we will have this conversation again.
Soon.’
Gar nodded and strode
find the words to express how he felt, did not know where to start.
‘This way,’ Gar said, walking away. With a scowl, Corban followed; Storm uncurled and padded after them.
Marrock was standing guard, the shadow of his body merging with the tree he was leaning against. He looked inquisitively at Gar and Corban.
Gar stopped beside the stream. ‘Give me your sword,’ he said, then wrapped Corban’s blade with cloth, tied it tight and passed it back.
Without a word, Gar slid into the sword dance, his curved sword wrapped like Corban’s.
Sullenly Corban watched him, a host of questions and accusations swirling in his mind. There were so many things that he wanted to ask Gar about, but they were all linked to last night’s
conversation, and he had set his will to avoiding that subject at all costs. Gar paused, staring at him. ‘Don’t think; do. Questions, talking later, but this will help.’ He
resumed his fluid movements.
Corban sighed and raised his sword, stepping into
stooping falcon
, the first position of the sword dance. Skin and muscles around the wound on his back stretched and pulled, but he held
the pose, then moved smoothly into the next stance. Gar was right, soon Corban felt his mind calming, his thoughts draining away as he became lost in the rhythm of the dance.
Sunlight was dappling the ground and sparkling on the stream when he finished. Sweat dripped from his nose and the wound on his back pulsed dully. Gar faced him and raised his sword. Corban
shrugged and they began to spar, and slowly Corban became aware of movement around him. A quick glance showed him half a dozen figures from the camp watching them, but also earned him a crack to
the ribs from Gar.
‘Enough,’ the stablemaster declared.
Gar stripped the cloth from his and Corban’s swords, then began walking back to the camp, ignoring their audience. In no mood for conversation, Corban followed him, purposely avoiding
Brina’s stare.
Halion drew level with them and grasped Gar’s arm, halting him. ‘I need to talk to you,’ he said to Gar. The stablemaster stopped, drawing a deep breath.
‘You fight differently,’ Halion said. ‘I have travelled much of the west and seen nothing like your style.’
Gar just stared at Halion, expressionless.
‘Until the night Dun Carreg fell. The man you fought, Sumur. Marrock tells me there were many like him in the battle, that they opened Stonegate for Owain. You fought like this Sumur,
spoke with him. You knew him?’
Gar’s gaze flicked to Corban and back. ‘Yes.’
‘Tell me of him, of yourself. Who are you, where are you from?’
‘I have heard others ask the same questions of you, yet you have held your silence. My past is my own,’ Gar said.
‘True enough, my business is my own, and not a subject for gossip. But things are different now, and so I have spoken of my past. Because it was necessary. Now you know who I am, where I
am from, who my father is. It is necessary to hear these things from you. Do you know this Sumur?’
Gar closed his eyes and blew out a long breath. ‘I knew him, many years ago. Corban will tell you more, soon.’
Corban raised an eyebrow at that.
‘That is not good enough. I am Edana’s sword and shield, and you know more about her enemies than anyone else here – seemed almost to be one of them – I must understand
all that goes on, for Edana’s sake. Are you a danger to her?’
Gar sighed. ‘No, I am no danger to the princess. You saw that I fought Sumur – that must answer your fears. I would tell you more, but Corban should hear these things first, and
until he has I will speak no more of it, with you or any other.’
Halion still gripped Gar’s arm. He held the stablemaster’s gaze for long moments then let his hand drop. ‘I will wait, but we will have this conversation again.
Soon.’
Gar nodded and strode
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