Leaping Wolf, page 18
part #2 of Caledon Saga Series
But it isn’t though, is it? Gawan’s scowl deepened a little, annoyed that his inner voice was right. His best chance of beating him, assuming they met, was to stay in the shieldwall and hack him apart from relative safety, trusting in his cohort to take the giant down as one. The thought grated on him. No matter who he was, surely no Gadarim deserved to die like that? He remembered seeing the Gaians at First Nantwyn when they’d killed Caderyn warriors from behind their shieldwalls. Back then the Caderyn had been Gawan’s enemies, and he’d killed plenty of them himself that day, but all the same his guts had churned a little to see fellow Gadarim slain without honour. He ground his teeth and tried to put it from his mind. The important thing was to keep Emeryn safe after all, and whatever it took he would make sure no Breiryn Gadarim got near her.
His thoughts only took up a few heartbeats and he broke off from sizing-up his rival when Rhianwyn began to speak. The Caderyn chief glanced up at the sky before looking at her enemies.
‘It seems to be clouding over. You might be wise to get yourselves back home before it starts to rain.’
Owain smirked a little from beside her and even Kyran had a glint in his eye, though his narrow face was set and hard. Gawan might still be angry at her but he had to admit it; Rhianwyn was a cool one. Asrec looked on indifferently but Caserach spoke up. His voice was light, very different to the deep tones of his uncle, and for all his relaxed confidence Gawan detected irritation as well. Clearly he’d hoped that she would be intimidated.
‘There are roofs nearby, I’m sure. We can have our pick of shelter before long.’
Kyran leaned forward before Rhianwyn could respond, his words quiet and deadly calm.
‘Your only shelter tonight will be cold earth piled on your head.’
Rhianwyn frowned a little. She must have known that she had no hope of persuading him to leave in peace, but all the same she seemed determined to try. Caserach smirked at the Dariniae’s First Man.
‘And whose hands will be pouring it on me when your blood is swelling the streams?’
Kyran looked at him with cold eyes but Rhianwyn answered first.
‘The warriors on that ridge will be taking turns to do that. Unless you turn your people around and leave our land in peace.’
Caserach scoffed at her.
‘Your words are wind. I see the rabble gathered on that hillside, you cannot hope to match my numbers and well you know it.’
The Breiryn chief beside him spoke for the first time, his voice flat.
‘Our people are many, yours are few. Concede and pay tribute and they need not die.’
He’d put a subtle emphasis on ‘our’ but beyond that his voice seemed almost bored. He struck Gawan as being a dull and quiet sort of man, but not quiet in Tarwyn’s deep and thoughtful way; more like the grey and lifeless way that corpses and limp fish were quiet. Rhia answered very simply.
‘The Dragons lately saw off an army of two full Gaian legions. Your warriors will die here if you challenge them. I say again, leave our land.’
Caserach affected to ignore her and turned to face Gawan and Boryn. His brow furrowed in feigned confusion.
‘Why is it that you are here anyway? You are Gorvicae. Kyran here may have some cause to hate me and these Caderyn fools fear for their lands, but you? What need is there for Gorvicae to die on this ridge today?’
Gawan didn’t want to admit that the same thought had occurred to him, but fortunately Boryn spoke for them first.
‘Some Gorvicae may die here to defend our neighbours and avenge Ierryn.’ He turned to Asrec. ‘Many Breiryn will die for the sake of one murderer’s greed.’
The old headman put it well, his voice grave and dignified. Asrec opened his mouth to speak but Caserach cut him off, clearly annoyed that Boryn had turned away from him.
‘You come to avenge Ierryn? What was he to you for years past but a Darin and an enemy? Before the Gaians turned you all to sheep you’d have clasped the hand that killed him, not bitten it!’
Gawan felt his temper rise.
‘If you wish that hand to stay on your wrist you will keep a civil tongue when speaking to chiefs.’
Boryn might not have been Gawan’s headman but he was a chief and a Gorvic, and this Darin piss-drinker had insulted the tribe. Caserach glared at him.
‘Try telling me what to do, fool, and my man here will take both your hands right before he takes your head.’
He jerked his chin at Broad Kellas who simply nodded without speaking. Gawan sneered at him, his voice dripping with contempt.
‘You’re a bold man Caserach, threatening me with the actions of another. Perhaps once I’ve sent him to the Otherworld I will summon up the courage to face you afterwards.’
Broad Kellas seemed unmoved but Caserach flushed red with anger. Kyran spoke before the would-be chieftain could answer.
‘You will have to wait your turn for that, brother. I am First Man of the Dariniae, and if any are to take this bastard’s head, it will be me.’
Gawan was oddly glad to have his old enemy on his side, but this was clearly not going the way Rhianwyn had hoped it would.
‘Enough of this! Asrec, turn your people around and lead them home, none need die today over this squabbling!’
Caserach breathed in to say something to her but Asrec raised a hand and the Darin checked himself. Gawan could practically see the resentment pouring from him as he did, but he was not fool enough to anger his only ally and so he held his tongue. Asrec’s voice was just as dull and nasal as before.
‘You speak out of fear, Rhianwyn daughter of Carradan. You know that you will lose here.’ He nodded at the rail of his chariot and then patted Broad Kellas’ huge shoulder. ‘We are the mightier. If you give yourselves up we will take our tribute and let you live. If you fight us then you will all die.’
He said it without any hint of threat or emotion, but from a man like him Gawan hadn’t expected much. Besides, Caserach added his own comment straight afterwards, and his words were angry enough for the both of them.
‘I for one would sooner have it that you tried to stay and fight.’ He slapped a hand on his sword-hilt. ‘Greyfang is thirsty for blood.’
Rhianwyn looked ready to try talking to Asrec again but Gawan’s patience was already short enough this morning, and Caserach was pushing it to breaking point. Numbers and peace and wisdom be damned; this man without honour had talked enough.
‘I am surprised it knows the flavour. I hear it is your dagger that does your killing for you, and even that fears to stab at a man’s front!’
He spat angrily at the ground before the Darin’s grey mount.
‘Either you or your giant there settle this with me here and now, or else run back to your warriors and hide behind them as they charge. I grow weary of your voice.’
He glared first at Caserach and then at Broad Kellas, both of whom looked surprised for a moment, but the Gadarim recovered his plain expression quickly enough. He was strong and skilled and had a horde at his back, why should he worry? Caserach on the other hand was reddening again and began to snap back an answer.
‘You would dare to…’
But Rhianwyn interrupted, ignoring him and speaking directly to Asrec.
‘This is your final chance, you can leave here now and…’
This time Caserach was the one to cut in.
‘No-one is leaving here!’
Even his horse seemed to be growing angry, scraping its hooves on the ground and snorting. The rider jerked his head towards the ridge.
‘Go back to your hill and cower behind your shields. Hide there while you can before I come for you!’
Gawan sneered. The man had completely ignored the challenge he had been offered. He clearly didn’t want to look fearful by hiding behind Broad Kellas now that Gawan had challenged them personally, but neither was he man enough to fight the Gorvic himself. Or maybe he’s just clever enough to know he doesn’t need to fight me to win? Either way Gawan felt his contempt for the Darin grow, and would have said something cutting had Rhianwyn not spoken first. Her mouth was set in a firm line; controlled anger over bitter disappointment.
‘So be it. Come if you dare.’ She gestured behind her at the Dragon banners. ‘Mabonac will smile as your warriors fall.’
Asrec still looked indifferent but Caserach was fuming. He took a breath to spout what would probably be more threats but Rhianwyn wheeled her mount around and showed her back to him, the rest of the Caledon party following her lead. The chieftain urged her pony into a gentle trot, fast enough to show that she was done with these people but slow enough to show that she didn’t fear them either. Gawan exchanged a quick look with Broad Kellas before he turned to follow her, and thought back to Emeryn’s dream. You must keep him from her, no matter what else. You must keep her safe.
He set his jaw and trotted back towards the ridge with the others, and tried to ignore the itch between his shoulders. He didn’t know this plain-faced Asrec but Caserach had already shown himself to have no personal honour, and an arrow in the back for each of them would make this battle that much easier for him. But Gawan dismissed his fear. Broad Kellas might be an enemy but he was Gadarim, and would not allow such behaviour in his presence. Caserach could ill-afford to offend the First Man of his allies. Instead of fear Gawan felt a contradiction coming over him as he followed the others up the ridge. He was eager to fight these people, he even yearned for a chance to test himself against the giant behind him, but at the same time he was so worried for Emeryn. He shut his eyes for a moment and shoved all guilt and fretting from his conscious thoughts. Now was the time for battle, concerns about lovers would have to wait.
Chapter 16. The Battle of Moon Ridge
They rode back up the ridge in silence, heading towards the Caderyn company in the centre. The sky above was an almost uniform grey by now, and Gawan suspected the rain would be coming at any moment. Though that should be better for us than for them; they’re the ones who’ll be trying to climb a slope in the mud. For all his temper he tried to keep that positive thought in his mind as they approached the long Caledon lines. Standing in front of them was Owain’s woman, the curvy redhead, and she gave her lover a mirthless smirk as the party reined in before her.
‘You spoke nicely then?’
Owain smiled back at her.
‘I kept perfectly quiet, just as you said,’ he nodded towards his fellow First Men, ‘it was these two who insisted on causing trouble.’
Gawan half expected Rhianwyn to say something disapproving about that, but to his surprise she practically defended them.
‘Trouble was going to happen no matter what was said, but we had to try.’
The Gorvic was tempted to add a comment of his own but the look Rhianwyn gave him stopped him short. She didn’t look angry so much as tired. She didn’t want another battle, and more death for a people who had barely survived the last war. She was a good chieftain to her tribe, for all her faults, and Gawan decided to hold his tongue. Rhianwyn seemed to appreciate that and spoke to all three of the First Men, her face now set and grim.
‘To battle then. Tribunes form your cohorts.’
It sounded odd to hear them being referred to by their rank, only Marius had ever really used the term, but Gawan nodded all the same, as did Kyran and Owain. Rhianwyn nodded back to them and urged her horse up to each man in turn. She clasped wrists with them one by one, looking each of her brothers in the eye as she spoke her blessing.
‘The Dragon guide you.’
Gawan repeated the blessing back to her, noting again both the hardness and the sadness in those deep blue orbs. Once done she wheeled her pony around without another word and cantered off behind the Caderyn formation, presumably to hand her mount over to one of Alraig’s people. Gawan watched her go for a moment and then exchanged blessings with the other First Men. As he turned to go he noticed how lovingly Owain and the redhead looked at each other, and hoped quietly that they’d both make it through this alive. That made him think of Emeryn of course and so he closed his teeth and pressed his lips together, trying not to think on it.
He and Boryn made their way along the Caderyn line, heading back towards their own cohort. The wall of red-and-blue shields was coming together, with archers behind testing their bowstrings and druids walking here and there to give blessings to the warriors and pass hands over their weapons. Naturally the druids would not be using their powers in the battle, they’d been reluctant to do so even against the sorcery at Nantwyn, but they gave courage to the tribesmen and helped light dragonfire in their bellies, and that was enough for now. The Caderyn seemed ready and confident despite everything, and Gawan only hoped that he and his would be the match of them.
Soon enough he and the headman reached the green shields of the Gorvicae, and they dismounted in front of the line. Tarwyn, Gwydion and Pryder were waiting for them, along with a few of the other more senior warriors of the company. The pair dismounted and handed their ponies’ reins to a young lad, who then led them away along the slope. Several nods were exchanged between the warriors but Boryn was the first of them to speak.
‘What are your orders, Leaping Wolf?’
The grey-haired headman’s voice was strong but respectful, as befit the situation. As a chief he would normally be above Gawan in the tribal hierarchy, but in war the First Man was second only to the High Chieftain and it was to him that the tribe would look for leadership. Gawan kept his answer simple.
‘We hold here and wait for them to come to us, as we expect. Caserach is angry and will be keen to attack. Should they try to move around us the cohort will advance down the hill and leave Alraig’s people to hold the ridge.’ He paused for a moment before adding. ‘Stay close and work together and we shall defeat them.’
There was another series of quiet nods and again, it was Boryn who spoke for them.
‘That we shall. Let us prepare.’
He clasped wrists with Gawan and blessings or wishes of good fortune were shared before the little group dispersed. Tarwyn was turning back towards the formation but Gawan caught his eye and motioned for him to wait. The quiet man thumped Gwydion’s arm before he could go too, and Pryder saw them stalling and took the hint as well. Gawan stepped closer to the three Gadarim. The cohort behind them was preparing itself noisily but all the same, he lowered his voice.
‘Brothers, you are not to speak of this to anyone but,’ he hesitated for a heartbeat before continuing, ‘Emeryn believes that she saw a vision of her death last night. She says she saw herself die in the battle today, at the jaws of some dark beast.’
There was silence for a moment before Tarwyn, undeniably the quickest of them, answered softly.
‘A kellas cat?’
Pryder was looking worried and Gawan suspected that Gwydion was more concerned than he was showing. The normally jovial man didn’t look fretful but his face was blank and serious, which for Gwydion was practically a scowl. Gawan shrugged.
‘She does not know.’
There was another silence and he noticed Pryder draw a little circle in the air with his finger, trying not to be obvious about it. The young man spoke to try to cover the gesture.
‘Could it not have been just another dream?’
He didn’t sound convinced, and Gawan didn’t blame him. It was a strange truth that men who scoffed at omens from the comfort of their homes felt very differently when combat loomed before them. Perhaps this was nothing, perhaps it was something, but a dream of death before a battle was rarely a good sign, and better to be cautious and risk feeling a fool than to ignore what might be a warning from the gods. He didn’t want to voice his next thought out loud but Tarwyn spared him the trouble.
‘You keep close by her brother, and we will watch for any Gadarim who approach.’
Pryder nodded eagerly and Gwydion managed half a smirk.
‘They’re easy enough to spot with those bloody horns of theirs!’
Gawan allowed his lip to twitch a little and tried to think of something suitable to say. He was grateful for their help but wasn’t quite sure how to put it, and so he settled for a simple bow of his head.
‘My thanks, brothers.’
The trio returned the gesture and he knew he didn’t need to say any more. These were men who knew him well and would understand his feelings. Then the sound of a horn from below them caused all four men to turn. Looking down into the bowl below, Gawan saw the yellow-brown mass was moving forwards, though the chariots were staying where they were. Likely Asrec wasn’t planning on doing much of his own fighting today. The First Man wasn’t surprised.
In the open air between the armies he saw the first droplets of rain begin to fall and a moment later felt the wetness on his head. Some of the Caledon warriors had taken helmets from Nantwyn along with mail and weapons, but most had drawn the line at wearing such headgear. Helms were for chieftains to show the tribe where they were and besides, the Gadarim’s hair had to be on show. Gawan watched the horde as it reached the base of the slope and then turned back to his fellows.
‘Alright, time to make ready.’
The three men nodded and made their way to the front line of the formation. Emeryn was standing there waiting and Gawan wanted to say something to her but he held himself back. She had the four best warriors in the cohort watching over her, which meant her life was as safe as it could be made. He could worry about reconciling with her later on; right now he had to focus on the task at hand. Gawan took his place beside her in silence, only bowing his head a fraction in acknowledgement. For a moment he thought she was about to say something but then she fixed her gaze ahead of them and kept her mouth shut tight.
