II

Thirty men from the Nar Vay shore – hard men once, who had been born to fishermen and strand gleaners, grown up with the salt smell of the sea and the feel of a boat beneath them – were huddled together on hard ground. They were shoremen no longer, but warriors, and defeated ones at that. They were cold, for it was night, it had been snowing for some time and their captors would not allow them to make a fire, or even to move around. They sat, wrapped in whatever cloaks or banners or tent canvas they had managed to scavenge from the wasteland of corpses that now surrounded Kolkyre, and the snow built up on their shoulders and their backs. They crowded close together, a hot press of bodies, so close that they breathed on one another’s faces. One man, wounded in the battle they had lost, had already died this night, in the midst of that huddle. They had pushed and passed the dead man out to the edge and he lay there still, stiff, disappearing incrementally beneath snowflakes. Their guards showed no more interest in the corpse than they would in a long-fallen tree or a rock.

These Haig men had been taken soon after the battle was done. Fleeing south, racing for Kolkyre even though they knew that city was no friend to their Blood, they were encircled by mounted spearmen, who killed a few of them and herded the rest back northwards, made chattels of them. They expected to die in time, for that was what they had always been told to expect of the Black Road. The lethargic apathy of the humbled kept them docile. They had surrendered much of their pride and their resilience in those moments of panic when they broke and scattered from the battle line, undone by a strange, compulsive terror that none of them now spoke of, for they did not understand it, and were ashamed of it. They spoke of nothing at all. There was nothing to say. They merely waited. They did not know whether it was the cold they waited for, or a spear, or starvation, but they believed it was one of those.

Horses came out of the darkness, soft and slow. One or two of the prisoners looked up. They turned away again at once, hid their faces. Inkallim had come, black-haired, grim, astride huge horses that blew gouts of steam from their noses. Guards drifted from their fires to speak with these newcomers. Few words were exchanged.

One of the Inkallim – a sinewy woman with two swords sheathed across her back – jumped down, thumping into the deepening snow. She walked, limping slightly, to the cluster of captives and stood over them. She surveyed them with contempt. They made themselves small, hoping to avoid her gaze.

“Fate smiles upon you tonight,” she said, and her voice made some of them shiver. “A task falls to you that will earn you the gratitude of your Thane. Stand up.”

No one moved.

“Stand up!” the Inkallim shouted, and they did, one by one. They rose clumsily. Some had to hold their neighbours to keep them from falling. One man dropped the threadbare cloak from his shoulders and bent to pick it up again.

The Inkallim turned and beckoned someone forwards from amongst the riders. A horse stepped carefully over the snow. It bore a hunched figure, enclosed in a hooded cape. The horse came close. Some of the prisoners shuffled back, intimidated by its dark size.

“Let them see you,” the Inkallim said quietly.

The rider straightened a little, not enough to take the bend entirely out of his spine, and slipped back his hood with one hand. The revealed face was pale and angular. He stared down at the Nar Vay men. There was silence and then, haltingly, a few murmurs of surprise, of recognition.

“Some of you know him,” the Inkallim said, and smiled bleakly. “Those who do not: this is your High Thane’s Chancellor. This is Mordyn Jerain. And you are his escort. We give you your freedom, that you may return this man to Vaymouth, and to his place at the side of Gryvan oc Haig.”

The prisoners looked at one another, uncertain and hesitant. This was too out of line with the fatalism that had mastered them, too unexpected. They thought they had misheard her.

“You will be renowned,” she said, “as the men who brought back the Shadowhand.”

They looked up at the sickly, bent figure on the horse. And Mordyn Jerain smiled down at them. It was an unnerving, lifeless smile.

“Take me to Vaymouth. There are many things I must discuss with the Thane of Thanes. Many things.”

To be continued…

Acknowledgements

I am grateful to the many people who have contributed to getting this trilogy into print, and without whom it would never have happened, or would not have been as enjoyable a process when it did.

Tina, my agent, and Sacha who started it all.

Everyone at Orbit, on both sides of the Atlantic: I won’t name names, because they all contribute and they all do so with good humour and dedication and no little talent.

My family, especially my parents whose support and encouragement have been constants since the first day I started making up stories.

My friends, especially Tom who seems to have bought more copies of my first book than anyone else on the planet.

And Fleur, for being entirely invaluable and irreplacable.

Look out for

FALL OF THANES

Book Three extras meet the author

Brian Ruckley

BRIAN RUCKLEY was born and raised in Scotland. After studying at Edinburgh and Stirling Universities, he worked for a series of organizations dealing with environmental, nature conservation, and youth development issues. He lives in Edinburgh. Find out more about Brian Ruckley at www. brianruckley. com. the passage of time

Began when the Gods made the world and put the One Race in it to inhabit it.

Ended when the One Race rose up against the Gods and was destroyed.

Began when the Gods made the Five Races: Huanin, Kyrinin, Whreinin, Saolin and Anain.

The Huanin and Kyrinin made war upon the Whreinin and destroyed that race, and were thereafter named the Tainted Races for their sin, and forfeited the love of the Gods.

Ended when the Gods departed from the world.

Began with the absence of the Gods, and with chaos.

Year

280 The Adravane and Aygll Kingships arose

398 Marain the Stonemason began the construction of Highfast, at the behest of the Aygll King

451 The Alsire Kingship arose, and the era of the Three Kingships began

775 The three Huanin Kingships united against the Kyrinin clans and the War of the Tainted began

787 Tarcene, the Aygll King, was bound, his mind enslaved, by the na’kyrim Orlane; his own daughter, in despair, killed him

788 Tane, the Kyrinin’s Shining City, was captured by the Huanin armies, the Deep Rove was raised by the Anain, and the War of the Tainted ended

792 Morvain’s Revolt, a rising against the faltering Aygll Kingship, culminated in a failed siege of Highfast

793 The last Aygll monarch – Lerr, the Boy King – was slain at In’Vay, and the era of the Three Kingships ended; Aygll lands descended into chaos and the Storm Years began

847 The Bloods – Kilkry, Haig, Gyre, Ayth and Taral – were founded in Aygll lands, and Kulkain oc Kilkry became the first Thane of Thanes; the end of the Storm Years

849 Kulkain oc Kilkry bade Lorryn the na’kyrim establish at Highfast a library for the preservation of learning and knowledge