Bloodheir

Epilogue

I

White Owl Kyrinin carried the na’kyrim on a litter made of birch saplings. His hand trailed over the side, brushing the grass for a little distance until someone noticed and lifted it and laid it across his stomach. A hundred woodwights walked in procession before and behind the litter. Battle Inkallim rode on either side of it. Like an honour guard, Kanin oc Horin-Gyre thought in disgust. Hundreds of warriors lined the path along which Aeglyss was borne. The silence was heavy.

Kanin watched from a distance, looking down on the scene from higher ground. The skin of the halfbreed’s hands and face almost shone, even at that remove. Ivory plaques, of the purest white, shining. It could have been a corpse that was carried with such reverential care through the serried ranks of the Black Road; a Thane being taken to his resting place. But it was not, and Kanin watched with attentive loathing. He wanted Aeglyss to live a little longer. Long enough to ensure that it could be Kanin’s own hand that ended his life, and that the ending was fittingly painful and prolonged.

Kolkyre was within sight, a grey bulk far off to the south. It was almost obscured by the greasy smoke of the many pyres burning between here and there: the meat and bone of the fallen smeared across the sky in vast grainy slicks. What breeze there was came from the south, and it carried the smell of the corpse fires on it. It filled Kanin’s nostrils with its noisome texture, and he did not find that unfitting. There was a truth in the conjoining of Aeglyss and that vile stench, a coincidental expression of the halfbreed’s essential nature. Kanin did not know, and did not care, whether he was the only one to recognise it. That he did was enough. It only took one man to kill another.

His Shield were about him, watching in silence as he did. He could not even be certain of them, he suspected. Their silence might be one of contempt, or fascination, or even awe. He could not tell. The litter and its foul burden drifted on. In its wake, the crowd of warriors closed up. Many stood gazing after it. Fools, one and all, Kanin thought. They think they see a sign of fate’s favour, and for that one delusion they’ll forgive all sins, any corruption. That was the flaw in the creed. That was the crack in its armour that Aeglyss would hammer his wedge into, and split open.

A movement at his feet caught Kanin’s eye. A great black dog loped past him, so close as to almost brush against his leg. It went out onto the grass and sat, its muscular back to him. He could hear it panting.

“They’re taking him back to Kan Avor, by all accounts.”

Kanin looked round at Ca

“He’s spent, I gather,” Ca

“Influence? We don’t know that. Shraeve and her acolytes claim the victory for him, but we can’t know the truth of it.”

Ca

Kanin frowned and looked away. Of course he had felt something. On the day of the battle there had been a hunger and a fury abroad surpassing anything he had seen before. He had witnessed acts of unflinching self-sacrifice and bloody determination beyond all expectation, even by the standards of the Black Road. The faithful had thrown themselves onto the spears of the enemy with utter abandon. There had been an almost delirious, ecstatic embracing of death. But Kanin would acknowledge nothing. He would deny the presence of the halfbreed in the very air, and in his heart, on the day of that battle, for if he spoke of it he would make it real. And how could he hope to oppose someone with such capabilities?

“True or not, the conviction is spreading that he had a hand in our triumph,” Ca

“Bloodheir?” Kanin barked. “Let them call him what they like. It means nothing. He clouds minds. He makes every thought deceptive, traitorous to the skull that holds it.”

“Indeed. The victory has not convinced you of his right to a place amongst us, then?”

Kanin scowled at the Inkallim.

“Send your Shield away for a moment, Thane,” Ca

Kanin sighed. Trust was no longer an element in his being. Wain’s death had expunged it. Nothing in the world, and no one, seemed worthy of it to him any more. Not even the creed. Not fate. And even before that he would have called any man a fool who claimed that he could trust the Hunt. But still, he had no enemies save one now. He nodded at Igris, and when the shieldman hesitated, he snapped at him, “Move away. All of you.”

Ca

“Goedellin is troubled,” the Inkallim murmured. “And that means the Lore is troubled. I am troubled, Thane.”

“I am sorry to hear that.”

“It was always our hope, from the very begi

“A pity Shraeve did not share your concern, since she was there in Kan Avor when my sister was slain.”

There was the slightest flicker of discomfort in Ca

“Shraeve is a matter for us to consider,” the Inkallim grunted. “To deal with, if necessary. You are my greatest concern now, Thane.”

“Me?”

“Your Blood dies with you, unless you have an heir you’ve kept secret from us all.”

Kanin snorted and looked back towards the great throng below them. Aeglyss was almost out of sight, passing beyond the edge of the host.

“Nobody would profit from your demise, and that of your Blood, save Ragnor,” Ca

“I was always taught that it was a weakness to fear consequences,” Kanin murmured. “The creed would surely say the suffering of my people, my suffering, is of no import. If suffering is written in the Last God’s Book, we must embrace it.”

“It would be better to talk with Goedellin if you wish to debate such things,” Ca

“Ha. I am touched by your concern. But I will do as I see fit. Why should I not?”

The huge dog stood up and looked round, its wet eyes on Kanin. It stretched, elongating itself.

“Because the Hunt will accept this burden,” hissed Ca

“You will set the Hunt against the Battle?” Kanin asked.

Ca

Kanin stared at the hound. He watched spittle creeping across its jowls.

“Soon, I think,” he said. “All of us. Soon.”