‘Full watches tonight, lads,’ Maddyn said. ‘Shall we draw straws?’
Instead so many men volunteered that his only problem was sorting out who was going to stand when. Once the first ring of guards was posted, some of the men rolled up in their blankets and went to sleep – or at least pretended to in a fine show of bravado – but most sat near one fire or another, keeping them going with sticks and bits of bark as devotedly as any priest ever tended a sacral flame. After about an hour, Maddyn left the prince to Caradoc’s and Owaen’s care at one of the fires and went for a turn round the guards. Most were calm enough, joking with him about ghosts and even making light of their own nerves, but when he came up to Branoic, who was posted out near the herd of horses, he found the younger man as tense as a harp-string.
‘Oh now here, lad! Look at the horses, standing there all peaceful like. If there was some fell thing about, they’d warn us.’
‘You heard what Nevyn said, and he’s right. There are some things horses can’t know. Maddyn, you can mock me all you like, but some evil thing walks this stretch of country. I can practically smell it.’
Maddyn was about to make a joke when the knocks sounded, three distant rolls booming out like thunder from a clear sky. Branoic yelped like a kicked dog and spun round to point as a tower of pale silver flame shot up through the night. As far as Maddyn could tell, it was coming from the old hunting lodge. Even though they were over a mile away, Maddyn saw the river flash with reflected light as it seemed that the flames would lick at the sky itself. Then they fell back, leaving both men blind and blinking in the darkness. In the camp, yells and curses broke like a rainstorm. Around them horses neighed and reared, pulling at their tethers.
‘Come on!’ Maddyn grabbed Branoic’s arm. ‘Somewhat’s happened to Nevyn.’
Stumbling and swearing, they took off downriver, running because it would take too long to calm and saddle horses. Just as Maddyn’s sight was finally clear someone hailed them: Nevyn himself, leading his horse along as calmly as you please.
‘Ye gods, my lord! We thought you slain.’
‘Naught of the sort. I did get a little carried away with that fire, didn’t I? I’ve never tried anything quite like that before, and I think me I need to refine my hand.’
Nevyn refused to say anything more until they reached the camp. Shouting for answers the men surrounded him until Maryn yelled at them to shut up and let the councillor through. It was a good measure of the prince’s authority that they all fell back and did so. Once Nevyn reached the pool of firelight, he mugged a look of mild surprise.
‘I told you I’d lay the haunt to rest, lads, and I did. There’s naught more to worry about.’ He glanced around with a deliberate vagueness. ‘If someone would take my horse, I’d be grateful.’
Owaen grabbed the reins and led the trembling beast away to join its fellows.
‘Oh come now, good councillor.’ With all the flexible courage of youth Maryn was grinning at him. ‘You can’t expect to put us off so easily.’
‘Well, perhaps not.’ The old man thought for a moment, but Maddyn was sure that he had his little speech all prepared and was only pretending to hesitate. ‘To lay a haunt you’ve got to bum its corpse. So I made a huge fire and shoved the ghastly thing in. But I stupidly forgot about the corpse-gas, and up went the whole lodge. I hope your father won’t be vexed, my liege. I’ve destroyed one of his holdings, old and decrepit though it was.’
Much to Maddyn’s surprise, everyone believed this to him less-than-satisfying tale. They wanted to believe it, he supposed, so they could stop thinking about these dark and troubling things. Later, when most of the men, including the prince and the captain, were asleep in their blankets, Maddyn heard a bit more of the truth as he and Aethan sat up with the old man at a dying fire.
‘You’re just the man I want,’ Nevyn said to Aethan. ‘You rode for the Boar up in Cantrae, didn’t you? Take a look at this pewter roundel. Is that pig the same heraldic device or some other version of a boar?’
‘It’s the gwerbret’s, sure enough.’ Aethan angled the bit of metal close to the last blazing log. ‘The curve of those long tusks gives it away, and I’ve been told that pointed mark on the back is the first letter of the word apred.’
‘So it is. That settles it, then. There was at least one Boarsman in that lodge this winter – although, truly, he could have been someone who was ousted from the warband, I suppose, and brought his old gear with him.’
‘I can’t imagine any of the lads I used to ride with treating a dead man that way.’
‘Ah. Well, the man this belonged to might well have been the man who was killed. He was murdered for trying to do an honourable thing. I did find out that much.’
‘You talked with the haunt?’ Maddyn found it hard to speak, and Aethan was staring horrified.
‘Not to say talked, but I asked questions and he could nod yes or no.’ The old man gave him a sly grin. ‘Don’t look so shocked, lad. You were mistaken for a ghost yourself once, if I remember rightly.’
‘True enough, but I wasn’t exactly dead.’
‘Well, while this poor fellow was a good bit less alive than you, he wasn’t exactly dead either. He is now, and gone to the gods for a reward, or so I hope.’ Nevyn considered for a moment, frowning at the roundel. ‘Tell me somewhat, Aethan. When you rode for Cantrae, did you ever hear any rumours of witchcraft and dark wizardry? Did anyone ever say that so-and-so had strange powers or the second sight or suchlike?’
Aethan started to shrug indifferently, then stiffened and winced, like a man who shifts his weight in the saddle only to pinch an old bruise.
‘An odd thing happened once, years back. I rode as a guard over the gwerbret’s widowed sister, you see, and once we went out into the countryside. It was late in the fall, but she insisted on taking a hawk with her. There’s naught to set it on, say I, but she laughed and said that she’d find the game she wanted. And she did, because cursed if she didn’t fly the thing at a common crow, and of course the hawk brought it right down. She took feathers from its wings and its tail and threw the rest away.’ He was silent for a long moment. ‘And what do you want those for, say I, and she laughed again and said she was going to ensorcel my heart. And she did, truly, but whether she used the wretched feathers or not, I wouldn’t know. She didn’t need them.’ Abruptly Aethan rose to his feet. ‘Is there aught else you want from me, my lord?’
‘Naught, and forgive me for opening an old wound.’
With a toss of his head Aethan strode off into the darkness. Maddyn hesitated, then decided it would be best to leave him alone with his ancient grief.
‘I am sorry,’ Nevyn said. ‘Did Aethan get thrown out of the warband for courting the gwerbret’s sister?’
‘He did, but things came to a bit more than fine words and flowers, or so I understand.’
‘Ah. I saw the Lady Merodda once. She was the most poisonous woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. I wonder, lad. I truly wonder about all of this. Here, keep what you just heard to yourself, will you? The men have got enough to worry about as it is.’
‘And I don’t, I suppose.’
‘Oh here.’ Nevyn chuckled to himself. ‘As if you weren’t burning with curiosity.’
‘My heart was ice, sure enough. Well, my lord, I’m about snoring where I stand, and I’d best get some sleep.’
Once he lay down in his blankets, Maddyn drifted straight off, but he did wake once, not long before dawn, to see Nevyn still sitting up and staring into the last embers of the fire.
On the morrow a subdued troop of silver daggers rode straight home to Dun Drwloc. That night Nevyn summoned Maddyn and Caradoc to the king’s private chambers for a conference. Casyl had a map of the three