Shadowlight

by Mike Jefferies

 

Doubts crowded in the darkness, whispered fears spread

through the warriors in the battle crescent as all eyes waited

on King Holbian.

 

'What if Thanehand fails to destroy the Nightmare, Krulshards?

What then will become of the sunlight of Elundium?'

 

The battle crescent trembled and swayed, stirred by each

man's fears of what the new daylight would bring. A hand

gently touched the King's elbow, making him start in the

darkness, setting the steelsilver battlecoat he wore jingling

with sweet musical whispers of the daylight yet to dawn.

 

'It is time, my Lord,' Breakmaster called quietly, lifting his

hand and pointing out beyond the darkened Causeway Field

to where a streak of cold grey light edged the dark bulk of

Mantern's Mountain.

 

'The grey hours are upon us, Lord, and the battle

crescent stands as you commanded; every warrior is in his

place.'

 

Slowly King Holbian turned towards the horseman. 'The

city folk?' he asked, gripping Breakmaster's arm in his brittle

fingers. 'Will they be safe if the Nightbeasts come?'

 

Breakmaster nodded, sweeping his rein-hand out towards

dark shapes huddling behind the battle crescent. 'I have

placed the Nighthorses before them, my Lord, they will

protect the city folk whatever the new daylight brings.'

 

King Holbian laughed, releasing Breakmaster's arm. 'They

are the new Elundium, Breakmaster, they are here to witness

 

s

 

our last great moments and welcome a new king to rule in my

place!'

 

'But, Lord,' cried the horseman, 'you have an age of

daylights yet.'

 

King Holbian sighed, putting his finger on Breakmaster's

lips. 'I am old beyond counting, frail and bristled with age;

help me now to see out my last daylight for we stand in the

shadow of the Palace of Kings.'

 

6

 

_ _

 

Waiting for Old Legends

 

As the King spoke he unbuckled a small silver buckler at his

throat and removed the steelsilver battlecoat from his shoulders.

Carefully he placed it in the horseman's arms. 'When

this daylight is at an end and I am laid to rest in my father's

house, then this precious battlecoat shall be yours.'

 

For a moment the King paused, looking out beyond the

towering walls of Underfall across the darkened Causeway

Field. Smiling he turned back to Breakmaster. 'With it I give

you Beacon Light, the Queen of Horses, for you were there

at her breaking and made her proud and brave to serve me

during these last desperate daylights. Go! Go now and spread

the battlecoat across her back.'

 

Breakmaster fell to his knees, the battlecoat clutched in his

utstretched hands. 'Lord,' he cried, tears coursing down his

cheeks, 'I asked for nothing but to love you, and to serve you

all my days against the Nightbeasts. There was no ambition

for such a treasure, such a beautiful gift.'

 

King Holbian smiled, putting his ancient hand on the

horseman's shoulder. 'I know it,' he whispered, 'and without

your love and loyalty I would have perished long ago in the

ruins of the Granite City beneath the Nightbeasts' shadows.

The gift is given and cannot be taken back. Go now and

prepare Beacon Light for me. Let me come to her this last

time proud, and sure of my purpose. Go, true friend, go.'

 

Breakmaster rose, blinking away his tears, and stepped

backwards into the shadows.

 

7

 

'Use it well,' called out the King. 'When Elundium is safe

once more, ride out into the morning sunlight and listen to

the sweet music in the battlecoat's weave and remember how

we stood side by side and laughed at the Nightbeasts'

shadows. Remember then our greatest moments.'

 

'But, Lord,' ventured the horseman, gathering his courage

and stepping back to the King, 'Nevian, the Master of Magic,

counselled me to put the coat about your shoulders to keep

you warm and safe on our dark flight from the ruins of the

Granite City. Surely you should keep it close about your

shoulders?'

 

King Holbian laughed, a soft light glowing in his eyes.

'Our flight from the Nightbeasts is over, Breakmaster. If

Thanehand fails against the Nightmare, Krulshards, it will

be here upon the Causeway Field that the last moments of

sunlight will shine in all Elundium - here beneath the walls

of Underfall. For this was foretold long ago in my youth and

not even the power of magic or music in the steelsilver can

stop what must unfold.'

 

Breakmaster nodded dumbly and retreated into the shadows

to prepare Beacon Light for the daylight yet to dawn.

 

'Be proud,' shouted the King as Breakmaster hurried away,

'for we kept the light and the people of Elundium safe

through the darkest hours.'

 

Angishand, Thane's mother, moved quickly through the

dense huddle of city folk, urging them to keep close to the

battle crescent, yet all the while her eyes were drawn towards

the dark bulk of Mantern's Mountain looming against the

starry skies.

 

'Keep safe, my child,' she whispered over and over again,

shivering and twisting the hem of her shawl tightly between

her fingers as she remembered Thane's last night in the

Granite City. They had wanted his death then and had

shouted for it through all the levels of the city but now . . .

She laughed nervously, catching the noise in her throat

stifling it back into silence. Nobody had realized then that the

 

8

 

fate of Elundium would rest so heavily on his shoulders, even

the King had sent him beneath a blanket of darkness to

perish at World's End.

 

Angis sighed and turned her head, listening to the dark

whispers rising from the assembled warriors, and heard

Thane's name as the chill dawn breezes strengthened. Angis

shivered ag un, pulling her shawl tight and heard far away the

first blackbird herald the new morning, and saw the feathered

edge of the blood-red sun breasting World's End.

 

Beacon Light stood waiting in the centre of the battle

crescent, her neck arched beneath the steelsilver coat. It

rippled in the grey dawn breezes, shimmering with the

colours of watered silk. King Holbian smiled to see her so

proud, battle dresssed as the great Warhorses of yesterlight.

'It will be us the Nightmare strikes at first,' he whispered,

moving to her side and gently stroking her velvet-soft muzzle.

 

'Silver against black we will fight for the sunlight! Good

against evil we will fight to save Elundium!'

 

Beacon Light neighed and struck at the dew-wet grass

with her hoof, tossing her head in the half light. King Holbian

laughed, setting his foot in the stirrups, and with Breakmaster'

s help he climbed stiffly up into the saddle. Turning, he

looked at the sheer walls of Underfall, casting his gaze across

the rows of galleries that seemed to stare back at him, black

empty eyes edged with twisted metal spokes climbing up into

the morning light. On the highest gallery the great Lamp of

World's End paled against the growing strength of the new

day.

 

'I will come to you, Palace of Kings, when the Nightmare

is dead!' he shouted before turning to the assembled battle

crescent.

 

For long moments he sat watching his warriors. Then

slowly he stood up in the stirrups, his hand on the hilt of his

 

sword. 'Warriors!' he cried, sweeping the sword aloft. 'Who

will stand with me against the Nightmare, Krulshards? Who

will stand with me if Thanehand fails?'

 

9

 

aThe battle crescent shifted as corn touched by a summer

wind as each warrior took a step forward.

 

'Lead us to the Gates of Night!' shouted Errant, spurring

Dawnlight, first stallion of the Nighthorses, out of the crescent

and galloping to the King's side.

 

'Lead us! Lead us!' chanted Grey Goose, Captain Archer at

the far end of the crescent, rattling his quiver of newforged

arrows as he urged the Archers to step forward.

 

King Holbian hesitated, drawing Beacon Light's reins tight

in his hand. 'Our place is here as the legends foretold, upon the

Causeway Field. We dare not climb towards the Gates of

night.'

 

Errant shaded his eyes against the new morning's light and

looked up at the heather meadows where the sunlight reflected

from a forest of fast-moving spear blades and broad Marching

swords. 'Others have gone before us, my Lord. Look! They are

spread out across the mountainside in a mighty battle crescent.

Nightbeasts run before them shadowing the morning in their

haste to retreat towards the Gates of Night.'

 

'Tombel leads them!' shouted Breakmaster, shadowing his

eyes. 'Look, he carries the emblem of the owl in blue and gold.'

 

'Tombel!' cried the King, riding on a few paces and scanning

the steep mountainside.

 

'Yes, my Lord,' answered Errant, riding Dawnrise forward to

stand beside the King. 'He marshalled all the warriors with the

tattoo mark into a mighty battle crescent and led them out into

the wild grasslands beyond the ruins of the Granite City to

hunt the Nightbeasts. Clearly he has swept across all Elundium

on their heels driving them back to their foul begnunngs.'

 

King Holbian gripped Errant's arm, his eyebrows drawn into

a worried frown. 'Tombel may be on their heels but he cannot

outrun them; they will escape into the City of Night

 

10

 

and strengthen the Nightmare against Thanehand. He will be

lost in their darkness.'

 

Errant twisted in the saddle, sweeping his hand in the

direction of the Nighthorses. 'Pledge me, Lord, to ride to

Tombel's aid. Let me follow him with the Nighthorses of

Underfall. We could strengthen his warriors before the sun has

touched the Causeway Field.'

 

King Holbian shivered with indecision, rubbing at the cracks

age had spread across his face. Quickly he looked from left to

right at the dark shapes of his warriors in the battle crescent. 'If

you take the Nighthorses it will weaken us and strip the city

folk of their protection.'

 

'But, Lord,' urged Errant, 'the Nighthorses were gathered

from the dark side of the morning to fight in all the wild places

on this mountain. They are fleet of foot and could outrun the

Nightbeasts and seal the Gates of Fight against them.'

 

'The smell of battle is in their nostrils, my Lord,' cried a

strong deep voice from the first rank of Marchers.

 

'Thunders/one!' called out the King, bending in the saddle

to search along the crescent.

 

Thunderstone laughed and stepped forward quickly, the

horsetail sword resting easily across his shoulder. 'The smell

of Nightbeasts makes them fretful on the bridle.'

 

'Would you send them, Keeper of World's End? Would you

break my battle crescent?'

 

Thunderstone knelt, offering up the hilt of the horsetail

sword, saying, 'Lord, the Nighthorses of Underfall will not fail

you. They are battle ready to run the Nightbeasts to ruin.'

 

'Time runs before us, great Lord,' interrupted Errant,

pointing with his sword at the retreating Nightbeasts.

 

King Holbian looked quickly from the foul black shadows to

 

the rising sun, his knuckles tightening against the reins. 'It is

decided! I pledge you, Errant, Captain of Gallopers, to seal the

Gates of Night and bring victory to all Elundium!'

 

'The pounding of hoofbeats will be music to our ears,'

 

11

 

shouted Breakmaster above the rising clamour as the Nighthorses

surged forwards, rearing and plunging in excitement.

 

'No!' thundered a voice from the eaves of Mantern's Forest

where it bordered the dark side of the Causeway Field.

 

The Nighthorses skidded to a halt, milling in confusion at

the flickers of white light that flashed and sparkled across

their path. Beacon Light neighed and reared up, making the

King snatch at the bridle to keep his balance.

 

'Who dares to challenge the last Granite King?' he cried,

pirouetting Beacon Light and spurring his way angrily into

the shadows beneath the trees. 'Who dares to halt the King's

bathe crescent?'

 

The voice laughed with a strong deep sound that rang

clear in the half light and as it fell silent a tiny point of light

began to grow, soft light that shone with all the colours of the

rainbow.

 

'Who else, Lord, but I, Nevian, the Master of Magic, the

Keeper of the Sunlight, would dare to challenge the greatest

King who ever ruled in all Elundium?'

 

'Nevian?' whispered the King uncertainly, easing Beacon

Light into a walk beneath the trees.

 

Soft laughter mingled with the rainbow light as Nevian

stepped forwards and put his hand upon Beacon Light's

bridle. 'I have stilled you, Lord, to watch old legends come to

life.'

 

'But . . .' cried the King, pointing up into the new moming'

s sunlight. 'Nightbeasts are in the heather meadows

retreating towards the Gates of Fight. If they pass into the

darkness all will be lost.'

 

Nevian slowly shook his head, and while he led the King

back into the centre of the battle crescent he told him quietly,

'Thanehand must face the Nightmare alone if he is to be

worthy of the Kingship of Elundium.'

 

'But I am the King! I can help him!' cried Holbian, trying

to pull away from the magician. 'Let the Nighthorses gallop

 

12

 

on to the high plateau and seal the Gates of Night while I

gallop to Thane's side. Let me go!'

 

Nevian only shook his head again more firmly, holding on

to Beacon Light's bridle, digging his heels into the short

springy turf. 'Darkness is your weakness, Lord. Remember

the bondbreaking. You dared not enter the City of Night.

No, it is here you must wait.'

 

King Holbian, his face black with anger, tried to force a

passage but Beacon Light would not pass the billowing folds

of the rainbow cloak. 'All Elundium will be plunged into

darkness if Thanehand fails!' he cried.

 

But Nevian only smiled? his eyes softening as he searched

the ranks of Marchers for Thunderstone. Tuming back to

the King he answered quietly, 'Do not try and foretell the

future, my Lord. We stand here on the threshold of a new

age, the age of Men, and I in all my wisdom think that they

will grow beyond the greatness of the Granite Kings.'

 

Nevian paused a moment, lifting his hand to summon

Thunderstone. 'Thanehand is not alone, my Lord. He has a

guide in the darkness who will show him the way into the

City of Night.'

 

'Who?' hissed the King, leaning forwards in the saddle, his

anger forgotten. 'There is none born in all Elundium who

could walk in that foul darkness.'

 

Nevian laughed, throwing back the rainbow cloak. 'There

is much that fills Elundium, my Lord, beneath the surface or

beyond our sight. Much that we pass by without a second

thought. Willow Leaf, the Tunnel slave, was born into the

Nightmare's darkness yet he has returned to the place of his

torment to guide Thane through the blackest night so that

 

we might keep the sunlight.'

 

'Willow Leaf? A Tunnel slave?' whuspered the King, his

old eyes growing round with astonishment.

 

Nevian nodded impatiently, one eye on the strengthening

daylight. 'All will unfold before you, my Lord, if you are in

your appointed place.'

 

13

 

Without waiting for the King to answer Nevian turned to

Thunderstone and placed his hand on the hilt of the horsetail

sword saying, 'Long long ago I foretold the moment when we

would gather on the Causeway Field to greet the new king.

Do you, the Keeper of Underfall, the last Lampmaster of

Elundium, remember my words?'

 

Thunderstone frowned, casting his mind back across the

suns to another dawn beneath the walls of Underfall. He

shivered, remembering the proud death of Equion and

touched the silver strands of the horsetail before he slowly

answered the magician. 'You foretold that the new king would

set his standard on the Causeway Field and that it would

drive the shadows back.'

 

Nevian nodded, tightening his grip on the hilt of the sword.

'The standard of the new king is here, Lampmaster. You

have touched it and held it close to your heart, but as yet it

cannot be set before us for it has no staff or banner pole to

rest upon.'

 

'I have touched the standard of the new king?' Thunderstone

cried, stepping back a pace.

 

Nevian laughed, keeping his grip on the sword. 'A truly

royal standard, fashioned from the rag ends of the great

banners that hung in the Granite Towers, woven by the

mother of Kings in the shadows of the great wall that ringed

the Granite City. Yes, Thunderstone, you have touched it

and you have carried it beneath your cloak until yesterlight;

then as the darkness fell the Battle Owls, Mulcade and

Rockspray, stooped and took it from you.'

 

Thunderstone pulled his cloak aside and stared down at

his faded leather jerkin. 'But that was Thane's summer scarf.

Esteron returned with it bound across bus wounds. I was

keeping it safe for Thane's return, I did not know!'

 

Nevian drew closer to the Keeper of World's End. 'There

was no safer place in all Elundium for such a treasure than

the fastness of Underfall, nor so fearless a Captain to guard

it.'

 

14

 

Thunderstone paled and began to stutter but Nevian stilled

him, a finger on his lips. 'Take the horsetail sword a dozen

paces beyond the King and drive it point-deep into the

Causeway Field. Let it stand there proudly marking out the

daylight hours and if Thane defeats the Nightmare let it be

the banner pole of the new Elundium!'

 

'But what if Thanehand fails? What if the Nightmare

comes down from the City of night?' Thunderstone whispered,

reluctant to move forwards. 'My hands will then be

empty!'

 

Nevian smiled, sweeping his eyes across the warriors of the

battle crescent. 'If Thanehand fails it will be the King the

Nightmare strikes at first and then, in that moment of terror

as they clash, light against darkness, good against evil, jump

forward and take back your sword.'

 

Thunderstone carefully unsheathed the sword, walked

twelve paces out into the empty field and drove it, doublehanded,

point-deep into the springy turf. With steady hands

he stilled the quivering blade, kissed the hilt and returned to

the Master of Magic.

 

'Go to your place in the battle crescent,' whispered Nevian,

'and remember that what often seems the easiest tasks to

others are in truth the hardest ones to perform.'

 

Thunderstone bowed his head, tears in his eyes. 'Not since

you first placed that horsetail sword in my hands has it ever

left my side.'

 

'Yet now it serves an even greater purpose than keeping

back the darkness,' answered Nevian gently. 'For now it

heralds the new Elundium!'

 

Thunderstone nodded and took his place before the

warriors of World's End, but his eyes were blurred with tears.

 

Breakmaster had taken the King a few paces into the

Causeway Field and was pointing to something that flashed

in the sunlight above the dark summit of Mantern's Mountain. '

What magic is that?' called out the King, seeing the

glitter of sunlight on bright metal above the summit.

 

15

 

Nevian frowned, moving back to the King's side. 'It is a

King's blade, my Lord, hot-forged by Durandel, the Master

Armourer, for Thanehand to use against the Nightmare,

Krulshards, but ...' Nevian hesitated, watching Eagle Owl

hover for a moment, the sword held in his talons, before he

stooped down towards a billow of dust that erupted near the

summit of the mountain. 'But with all my magic the sword

has arrived too late, for Thane has already passed into the

darkness!'

 

'Then everything is lost; there will be no new king on the

Causeway Field. Darkness will swallow the daylight!' cried

King Holbian, turning back towards the crescent.

 

'No! No!' shouted Nevian, catching at the King's sleeve

and pointing at the steep slopes above the high plateau. 'Look

at the Warhorses!'

 

King Holbian followed the Magician's hand and saw rank

after rank of proud warhorses massing on the black hole that

had appeared where the dust cloud had billowed up.

 

'There are Border Runners among the Warhorses!' cried

Breakmaster.

 

'And savage Battle Owls!' called out Errant.

 

'Thanehand is not alone!' shouted Nevian.

 

'Nor will the darkness take us,' answered the King,

spurring Beacon Light back into the centre of the restless

battle crescent. 'Hold still!' he shouted, standing up in the

stirrups. 'Thanehand has broken into the City of Fight.

Chant his name aloud and the daylight will yet be ours!

Chant his name. CHANT HIS NAME!'

 

Shadow-black clouds poured out of the torn summit of the

mountain; darkness began swallowing up the new daylight as

it spread across the Causeway Field. The ground trembled

and shook. Night had filled the morning sky yet it could not

drown out the warriors' chants, and the clash of their arms

rumbled and thundered through the crescent, lifting men's

hearts as it echoed across the steep mountain slopes.

 

'Hold still!' shouted the King against the black winds

 

16

 

shrieking about him. 'Keep your places,' he cried above the

shrill music of the steelsilver coat. Before them, bending

against the wind, stood the Keeper's sword, the silver strands

of horsetail twisting and turning in the darkness as they

waited, shouting for the new Elundium.

 

'The storms are lessening, my Lord,' called out Nevian, as

he moved to stand beside the horsetail sword. 'Now is the

testing hour.'

 

'Hold still!' shouted the King. 'Keep good order in the

battle crescent.'

 

'I feel no end to it, Lord,' cried Breakmaster moving closer

to the King. 'No end to the black torment and it must be long

past the noonday hour.'

 

'Noon or not I curse this darkness,' hissed the shivering

King, for without the sunlight or the steelsilver coat about his

shoulders he was freezing, turning back into brittle stone,

and the spider-fine cracks on his hands and face that the

stonemason had repaired were opening a lithe wider each

time he moved.

 

17

 

Out of the Darkness

 

Thane looked up from where he knelt beside Elionbel in the

high chamber of the City of Night. He watched Krulshards'

malice billowing out to spread shadows in the early sunshine

before it sank back slowly into limp folds of black despair

about the Nightmare's headless shoulders.

 

Rising to his feet, Thane pulled at the hilt of the sword he

had driven through Krulshards' rotten heart, but it was stuck

fast, pinning the body to the tall column of black marble that

rose up towards the ruined chamber roof, now open to the

sky.

 

Wiping at the smears of Nightmare blood he turned to

Elionbel, knelt and put his arms about her. 'It is over,' he

whispered, laughing and crying, as he helped her to her feet.

'Krulshards is dead. The Nightmare that blackened Elundium

is gone forever. We are free of his darkness. Look at

the sunshine, look at the Warhorses, the Battle Owls and the

brave Border Runners, we have won the sunlight. Look!'

 

Elionbel struggled, twisting in his arms. 'No! No!' she

cried against the sudden silence that had filled the high

chamber of the City of Night. 'We will never be truly free of

him! This is only the beginning of the real Nightmare

darkness that will cover all Elundium.'

 

Thane laughed. The relief at holding Elionbel safely in his

arms and the death of the Nightmare, Krulshards, bubbled

through his veins making him lightheaded with the joy of

victory. Easing his grip on Elionbel's arm he pointed down at

 

18

 

Krulshards' severed head where it lay face-down in the dust.

With his foot he pushed away the tangle of dead locks

hanging lifelessly from its skinless, bony crown. 'Krulshards

is destroyed. Look around you, the Nightbeasts are dead or

dying without his life force. They are nothing now but heaps

of rotting flesh. My final dagger slash that cut his foul head

from his shoulders has freed Elundium from his everlasting

darkness!'

 

Elionbel shook her head fiercely, breaking free from his

embrace. 'No!' she cried, again running to where her mother

lay a few paces beyond the tall column of rock. Kneeling, she

unclasped the cold stiff fingers from the hilt of Kerzolde's

dagger where it protruded from Martbel's chest and wept as

she whispered, 'The bastard child that Krulshards tore from

your body has gone, gone from beneath the malice. I fear that

Kerzolde or the other Nightbeast took it in the height of the

battle and I know that nothing will be safe until I find it and

destroy it. Thane has not ended Krulshards' darkness and I

dare not tell him. I pledged to keep the Nightmare's foul rape

a secret and I will, Mother,' she sobbed, slipping Kerzolde's

blood-sticky dagger beneath her cloak. 'None will ever know

of the terrible thing you suffered on the high wall of the

Granite City. I will find the bastard child that the Nightmare

named Kruel and I will kill it with Kerzolde's black blade.'

 

Bending forward with tears in her eyes Elionbel tore the

Nightmare's withered life thread away from her mother's

throat and threw it forcefully down into the dust. Then

footsteps sounded across the chamber: figures were emerging

through the shafts of sunlight and voices were calling her

name. 'Elionbel, you are safe, let us help you carry your

mother back into the sunlight.'

 

Elionbel hesitated, looking everywhere at once. 'Who?' she

whispered, biting her lip and turning towards Thane, the

blindness of her tragedy clearing from her eyes as she looked

about her at the Battle Owls, the Border Runners and the

proud Warhorses.

 

19

 

Thane smiled and quietly motioned to Eventine,Kyot and

etude Willow Leaf to come forward. 'Without the great bows

of Clatterford and Stumble Hill the Nightmare's life thread

would have strangled you to death. It was Eventine and

Kyot's steady hands and careful Archers' eyes that severed

Krulshards' life thread.'

 

'But we were blind in the darkness even with the glasstipped

arrows of Clatterford before Willow Leaf broke

through the roof and brought sunlight into the City of Night,'

laughed Kyot, putting his arm around Willow's shoulders.

 

'And without the sunlight and a clear sky Eagle Owl could

not have delivered the sword into my hand and . . .' Thane

fell silent, his voice trailing away as he looked down on

Martbel's lifeless body. Somehow it was not the moment for

battle talk.

 

Elionbel smiled through her tears and reached out to take

Eventine's hands. 'It all happened so quickly; one moment

the pain of black despair and then running footsteps, brilliant

flashes of white light, shafts of summer - thank you, thank

you,' she whispered as new tears welled up.

 

Esteron left the ranks of Warhorses, picking his way across

the littered chamber floor, and brushed his muzzle against

Thane's shoulder, snorting a greeting. Thane looked up into

Esteron's gentle eyes and stroked his neck, running his hand

along the horse's shoulder to touch the place where the

Nightbeast spear had torn into his flank, putting an end to

their headlong rush across Elundium on the Nightmare's

heels. Snow-white hair had grown in a broad band where the

spear had entered, as white as the nightflowers which had

blossomed in the darkest night outside the Wayhouse, the

Hut of Thorns, on the road to Notley Marsh.

 

'Oh, Esteron,' he whispered, caressing his velvet muzzle.

'Each daylight I dared to hope you had reached the Healer of

Underfall, but it was only on the lawns of Clatterford that I

learned from Kyot you were safe.' Esteron whinnied and

arched his neck, striking the chamber floor with a foreleg. 'I

 

20

 

sent Rockspray to find you and tell you that the Nightmare

had taken Elionbel and her mother into the City of Night.'

Thane paused and looked up into the broken roof, searching

the ledges and perches of ragged rock, looking for Mulcade

and Rockspray. 'I know they brought you here,' he whispered,

turning back to Esteron, 'I saw them stooping down through

the broken roof with my summer scarf stretched taut between

them. The picture of the sun embroidered with Elion's

needlepoint was ablaze with the morning light. It drove the

shadows out of this terrible place, but they are nowhere to be

seen now.'

 

Willow laughed and touched Thane's sleeve. 'At the

moment when you thrust the sword through the malice and

struck the solid column of rock they rose up and vanished as

quickly as they had come.'

 

Grannog, the Lord of Dogs, who had led the Border

Runners into the City of Night, snarled at the ruined malice

that hung about Krulshards' shoulders in black folds of

despair and leapt past the tall column of rock, snarling and

snapping at the dead locks of Krulshards' hair spread across

the chamber floor, trying to catch them in his teeth and pull

the severed head into the sunlight.

 

Thane watched Grannog for a moment and shivered with

horror knowing he must take the head out into Elundium to

prove that Krulshards was truly dead.

 

'We must return to the daylight,' Willow called anxiously,

watching the sun move across the blue vault of the sky above

the broken roof.

 

'Will you carry Martbel?' Thane whispered to Esteron.

'Will you ease Elion's burden upon your back on our long

walk into the sunlight?'

 

Esteron snorted and whinnied and slowly knelt at Elion's

side. 'Twice you have come to me,' she whispered, burying

her tears in his mane. 'Once you brought rescue in the

 

morning light and saved me from the Nightbeasts in

 

21

 

Hawthorn Hollow and now your great strength will carry

Mother out of the darkness. Oh, Esteron ~

 

'We must hurry,' urged Willow, 'the shadows are lengthening

in this foul place!'

 

Elionbel nodded and knelt beside her mother, binding up

the torn remnants of her cloak tightly about her lifeless body.

Stepping back she watched numbly as Kyot and Willow

carefully laid Martbel across Esteron's back.

 

Thane stood with his feet astride the Nightmare's head,

gathering his courage. 'All Elundium shall see your death,'

he shouted, bending and grabbing at the tangled strands of

hair, winding them around his fingers. Straightening his back

he pulled, straining every muscle and slowly the Nightmare's

head began to move, lolling from side to side, spilling a trail

of black glistening saliva from its lips in ragged patterns in

the dust.

 

Kyot sighed and fell into step with Eventine, locking his

bow arm through hers. All around them the Warhorses and

the Border Runners crowded for the archway. 'There seems

little joy in Krulshards' death,' he whispered.

 

Eventine took his hand, intertwining her fingers with his.

'Our victory is overshadowed by Martbel's death. I fear there

is something in this darkness we have missed or overlooked

in this moment of victory. Something has gone unsaid that

only Elionbel knows about.'

 

Kyot nodded, sadly remembering how he had found his

father savagely mutilated by Krulshards in the tower on

Stumble Hill and how it had filled his mind with dark

thoughts. 'You will help Elionbel through her tragedy, I know

it,' he answered, ducking his head beneath the low black

arch.

 

'Shush!' hissed Eventine, halting abruptly and letting the

last of the Warhorses pass them. 'I hear a noise on the far

side of the chamber. Something moves in the darkness listen!'

 

Kyot turned his head from left to right, straining his ears

 

22

 

for the slightest sound. Eventine reached back into her quiver

and took the last glass-tipped arrow. 'There! Over there! Do

you hear it?' Eventine hissed, releasing the arrow in a brilliant

flash of morning sunlight against the farthest wall and in the

moment while the light blazed they saw a low black hole,

barely big enough for a man to crawl into. Far away, fastrunning

footsteps and the dry rattle of a Nightbeast's armour

echoed, growing fainter as it fled down into the depths of

night, muffling into nothing as the arrow's light died away.

 

Kyot laughed and turned to follow the Warhorses. 'That

Nightbeast will not get far without Krulshards' life force.

Leave him to die and rot in this foul place. Leave him to the

darkness.'

 

Kerzolde had taken the baby, Kruel, as his master Krulshards

had told him and they had escaped, following the dark tunnel

which sloped steeply away from the high chamber. Kerzolde

paused, his head twisted to one side, listening. 'Curse you,

Thanehand, Galloperspawn!' he spat. 'Curse you! Curse

you!' Running footsteps echoed in the tunnel behind him,

drawing closer. Kerzolde pushed his precious bundle deeper

into the folds of his scaly battle jerkin, unhooked a long

curved blade from his belt and crouched, ready, waiting.

 

Kerhunge, his brother beast, had followed, tumbling and

stumbling down the steep tunnel. 'Kerzolde! Kerzolde!' he

hissed, stopping abruptly and stepping hastily away from his

brother's slashing blade.

 

'Our Master is dead,' he cried, clutching wildly at the long

curved blade. 'I escaped as the foul Galloperspawn stepped

on his shadow.'

 

Kerzolde hesitated, lowering the blade. 'Krulshards is the

Master of Darkness, the true Nightmare, nothing can harm

him here in the dark for he has no shadow. He will destroy

 

the Galloperspawn!'

 

'No!' gasped Kerhunge, turning his savage head fearfully

towards the high chamber. 'The chamber is broken. Sunlight

 

23

 

cast a long shadow from our Master's feet and those Archers

who came with the Galloperspawn cut through his life thread

with arrow blades that exploded in foul flashes of bright white

light. The Elionbel is free. In the heart of the bathe I hid

myself. I could do nodding. I saw our master stabbed to death

by the foul Galloperspawn.'

 

Kemolde trembled, turning his head in fear. 'Krulshards is

dead!' he whispered. He reached a shaking claw into She

folds of his jerkin to lift out the baby, Kruel.

 

'It is the end of our darkness!' cried out Kerhunge, falling

to his knees in the choking cloud of dust that billowed up all

around Hem.

 

'No!' shouted Kemolde, thrusting the baby against the

darkness. 'There must be new Nightbeasts spawning in the

lower chambers. New Nightshards to fill and spread the

darkness. New Nightmares that can swallow up the light and

bring ruin to all Elundium!'

 

Kemolde touched the baby, licking at his wrinkled forehead

and stroking his slender fingers as he laid the small but

perfectly formed baby on She tunnel floor. Kruel opened his

pale eyes and cried just once, staring up towards the high

chamber.

 

'Master, Master, Lord of Darkness, you are the new

Master of Darkness, the new Nightmare!' Kerzolde whispered,

as "athering up the baby he slowly turned his back on

the chamber of Krulshards' death and took a step towards

the lower levels of the City of Night.

 

'Come,' he hissed, 'we must do as our Master pledged us

and take the baby far away from the warriors of Elundium

and keep him safe until he is strong enough to bring back He

darkness.'

 

Kerhunge nodded and made to follow, spreading his

gnarled scaly hands on the tunnel floor, but he could not rise;

his elbows bent, pulling him towards the ground. 'Kemolde,'

he gasped, crawling forwards, 'my life force is ebbing away. I

cannot follow you.'

 

24

 

Kemolde snarled impadendy, snatching at his brother's

iron collar. 'Quick! Be quick before the Galloperspawn treads

on our heels.'

 

Kerhunge sank lower, his breach dry and rattling in his

throat. Kemolde pushed and pulled, desperately trying to

shake new life into his brother. The baby, disturbed by the

violent movements of the jerkin awoke, and turning his head

against KeQolde's soft unarmoured skin, he bit savagely with

his sharp pointed teeth, cutting into the Nightbeast's flesh.

Kemolde screamed, shaking the baby's needle sharp teeth

out of his chest. Kruel, struggling for a hanthold, direst his

long tiny fingers through an opening in the jerkin and

scratched his fingernails across the coarse prickly skin of

Kerhunge's cheek, leaving fine blood trails where his hand

had touched the Nightbeast's face.

 

Kerhunge twitched, his hands trembling violendy, black

flecks of spitHe dribbling down his chin. He felt his strength

returning. 'Master!' he gurgled, stumbling up on to his knees

and catching the baby's hand in his own. 'Master, Master!'

he whispered over and over again, bringing the tiny hand to

his moud, to lick and kiss it with his ragged purple tongue.

 

Kewolde crouched against the tunnel wall sitting heavily

on his haunches, staring from the baby to his brother beast.

Slowly, almost gingerly, he in turn placed his broken claw

against Kruel's hand and felt the delicate slender fingers

close around it, gripping at She smooch britde horn.

 

'The Master's seed is the new power,' Kerhunge whispered

in awe. 'He has given us new life.'

 

KeQolde nodded, carefully pushing the baby's arm back

into the folds of his jerkin. 'He has more power than

Krulshards, I can feel it, but we must find him dark meats

and carrion flesh before he eats me back to the bone. Come,

follow.'

 

'Who showed you tills road?' asked Kerhunge breathlessly

as he ran on Kerzolde's heels, following him through low

twists and turns, always descending, spiralling downwards.

 

25

 

'Our Master did,' Kerzolde replied without looking back.

'He showed me the path, marking it with black footprints,

but nowhere will be safe here in the City of Night, not even

this secret way now that the cursed Thanehand has entered

our darkness. We must escape out into Elundium, into the

wild places where the warriors will not find us.'

 

'How can we escape from the warriors?' cried Kerhunge,

gasping for breath.

 

'This path leads down through the lower chambers where

new beasts are spawned. We will gather the beasts into a

dense shadow circle and force a way out of Underfall straight

through the foul Palace of Kings, destroying and killing,

sweetening the bitter taste of our Master's death.'

 

'Kill the Galloperspawn!' Kerhunge answered in a snarl as

the lower darkness swallowed them up, blanketing their harsh

footsteps.

 

Kerhunge slowed to a walk, turning his head from left to

right. 'There is death in the air. Can you smell it?' he asked,

taking another careful step forwards.

 

Kerzolde half-turned, impatiently, sniffing at the heavy

silence and stumbled, catching his clawed foot on an unseen

dark shape spread across the Tunnel floor. Cursing he

dropped the long curved blade and threw out both arms to

keep the baby safe.

 

'Nigh/beasts!' Kerhunge cried, dropping on to his knees

beside Kerzolde and turning over the lifeless bulky shape. In

silence they both stared down into the blank empty face that

had as yet never tasted human flesh nor filled the shadows of

Elundium with nameless terrors.

 

'The new beasts are all dead!' whispered Kerzolde, sniffing

the thick dark air in the narrow tunnel.

 

Kerhunge wrinkled his nose and smelt the black shapeless

lumps of carrion flesh, half-formed hands and legs, claws and

heads that rose up hideously, blocking She road. 'They are all

dead!' he cried, pushing his way through the piles of rank,

wasted meat. 'Who will make She shadow circle now?' he

 

26

 

cried, turning sharply on Kerzolde. 'Who will keep us safe

from the warriors?'

 

Kerzolde slowly rose to his feet, and hesitancy reached

inside his jerkin. 'I will touch them with He baby, he will

bring new life into the beasts. Kruel will do it!'

 

Kerhunge nodded in agreement and squatting near Kerzolde

they lifted a new beast's lifeless arm, offering it to the

sleeping baby. 'Bring the new beasts to life, Kruel,' Kerzolde

whispered, shaking the infant awake and pressing its tiny

fingers into the wet, half-formed flesh.

 

Kruel gurgled, a bubble of bright spitde glistening in the

blackness. Smiling he clapped his hands before digging his

fingers into the meat. Closing his hand he tore away a thin

sticky strip and crammed it into his mouth.

 

Kerzolde shock his head. 'No!' he whispered, patiendy

placing Kruel's hand on another new beast's arm, but Kruel

struggled, slapping at Kerzolde's broken claw. Gurgling, he

licked at the splatters of congealed blood drying on his lips

and pulled another strip of flesh away, greedily devouring it.

 

Kerhunge dropped She new beast's arm back on to the

Tunnel floor and stared darkly at the mounds of flesh. 'It is

beyond his power to give Hem life.'

 

Kerzolde turned away, pushing the baby back inside his

jerkin, and began cutting long strips of flesh to hang from his

belt. 'If Kruel cannot bring them back to life at least they can

feed him on the long journey ahead,' he muttered.

 

'Journey!' sneered Kerhunge. 'We are trapped here,

defenceless without a shadow circle. The City of Night is

ringed by foul warriors; Gallopers and Marchers gloat at

every entrance, we will never escape!'

 

Kerzolde laughed with a harsh sound that fled quickly

amongst the dead beasts and began feeling his way towards a

low black hole at the far end of the Tunnel. 'With or without

the shadow circle we must journey beyond the edges of

Elundium into the Shadowlands where the Master's seed will

be safe.'

 

27

 

'Shadowlands! Journeys!' mocked Kerhunge. 'The City of

Fight is ringed - ringed, I tell you - with fierce warriors.'

 

'Follow or stay,' answered Kerzolde, crawling down

through the hole, 'and the cursed Thanehand will search

every dark hole in this city for us, but I know of the way that

leads up through the tombs beneath Underfall. It is a

treacherous and difficult road but it will take us into the

Shadowlands.'

 

Kerhunge moved to follow but then hesitated. 'There will

be warriors in the Palace of Kings.'

 

Kerzolde turned, biting impatiently at his brother's fingers.

'Underfall will be empty, the warriors are on the Causeway

Field or spread far across the slopes of this dark mountain.

They will not think to look over their shoulders for us, but

we must hurry now to snatch the chance of escape.'

 

Kerhunge nodded and followed on Kerzolde's heels, sucking

at his raw knuckles as the narrow tunnel took them

spiralling downwards into blackest night.

 

Kyot and Eventine quickly caught up with Thane as he

laboured to pull the Nightmare's head towards the light. Kyot

stumbled, tripping over the dead locks of Krulshards' hair

and the head turned, the eyes staring directly in his~own.

-'No!' he cried, letting his spark fall to the ground and

covering his eyes with both hands. 'I cannot look into

Krulshards' face. Those eyes are staring, boring a hole

straight through me.' Shuddering, he turned away, whispering

and muttering as he sought a place to hide.

 

Eventine laughed soMy as she bent and scooped up the

spark. 'He is dead, Kyot, and can harm you no more. Those

blind eyes are mirrors that reflect your doubts and weaknesses;

look into them now and show all the strength and

power of the Keeper of the Wayhouse Tower on Stumble

Hill. Let the blind eyes see the careful Archer's eyes and

know the measure of his defeat.'

 

Slowly Kyot turned his head, swallowed at the lump that

 

28

 

seemed to fill his throat and held Krulshards' dead-eyed

gaze. Thane strode forwards, twisting the dead locks of hair

more firmly in his hands and the head rolled over in the dust

to stare at the black Tunnel walls that passed on either side.

Kyot shuddered and took back his spark, knowing that even

in death the Nightmare still held a power he could barely

master.

 

The dark road Willow had chosen was easy to follow and

took them down to a narrow crack in the sheer side of

Mantern's Mountain less than twenty paces beyond the

ruined Gates of Night. All about them sounded the echo of

hootbeats and the noise of swift running feet as the Border

Runners emerged on to the high plateau.

 

'None can stop us now,' shouted Thane against the

weakening darkness, for with every stride he took towards the

widening crack of sunlight the severed head he carried

became lighter in his hands and easier to carry.

 

Thane blinked his eyes against the brightness and stepped

out through the narrow doorcrack. Laughing, he swung

Krulshards' severed head in a wide shadowy arch shouting at

the top of his voice, 'All Elundium is free from your darkness

now!'

 

Far away upon the steep slopes of the mountain a stag

roared, and Eventine laughed, running out into the sunlight

and pointing up across the black storm rills that ribbed the

sheer cliffs above them. 'Tanglecrown, the Lord of Stags has

seen us and he will find a safe path across the mountain and

bring Stumble and Sprint down to us.'

 

Kyot smiled and nodded, turning towards the plateaus

edge. 'Sprint and Stumble are the bravest relay horses in all

Elundium and they will follow any path Tanglecrown can

find. I will go ahead to meet them.'

 

Elionbel shivered beneath her cloak and brought Esteron

 

to a halt with a touch of her hand. She asked him to kneel

while she eased her mother's stiff cold body down on to the

ground. 'Mother,' she whispered in horror, looking down at

 

29

 

athe torn and bloody skirts clinging to the wasted husk that

had once been Martbel. The bright daylight showed all too

clearly how Martbel had suffered to give birth to Krulshards'

bastard.

 

Quickly she cast her cloak across the body and half-rose to

her feet. Thane had turned towards her, Eventine and Willow

were but a pace away and beyond the plateau's edge she could

hear the tramp of marching feet. Biting her knuckles she sought

desperately to hide her mother's shame; she had to, she was

pledged to it. Thane moved closer and as he did so he trod on a

brittle, weather-bleached branch that lay hidden in the ragged

purple heather and snapped it with a sharp sound. Elionbel

stared at the broken branch and saw how she could hide her

mother's body. 'Fire will hide her for ever,' she whispered to

herself, searching with quick eyes for other weathered sticks or

kindling wood. Standing up she ran to Thane and begged him

to help her, saying, 'Mother will not be safe or free from

Krulshards' shadow, not until we have thrown her ashes to the

four winds. Help me to build a funeral pyre. Please help me!'

 

Thane frowned, shaking his head. 'But it is not the custom.

We should carry Martbel's body down into the fortress of

Underfall, she will be safe there, laid within a ring of sharp

Marcher longspears, and I will guard her until each warrior has

looked upon the tragedy of her death and paid a homage to the

greatest warrior woman in Elundium.'

 

'No, no, we cannot. I promised Mother,' Elion cried biting at

the lies that spilled so easily from her lips.

 

'But your father, Tombel, is sealing the lower skirts of this

mountain, leading the battle crescent up towards the night

plateau. He will be with us before the sun reaches the noonday

hour, surely we should wait until . . .'

 

'No, he must not see her like this, it would break his heart.

No, no, I cannot wait, I must burn Mother's body before the

sun turns our shadows. She pledged me to it with her dying

 

30

 

words, she feared that it would kill Father to see her so. Please,

please help me!'

 

Elion looked away unable to hold Thane's gaze and,

stooping, she began hurriedly to collect kindling wood.

 

Thane moved to stop her, untangling Krulshards' dead

locks of hair from his fingers and letting the head fall to the

ground. 'No,' he began to say when Kyot's shout stopped him

and made him run to the plateau's edge.

 

'There is a thick black fog below, over the Causeway Field

and it's rising. Listen, you can just hear the tramp of marching

feet from somewhere below. Perhaps the fog is all Krulshards'

stored-up darkness that poured out of the summit of the

mountain when Willow broke into the high chamber.'

 

'The sound of marching feet must be Tombel's battle

crescent. Remember, we saw the Marchers in a great ring

around the base of this mountain before we entered the City of

Night,' Thane answered, staring at the fog.

 

Torn in two and unable to decide what to do Thane stared

down into the swirling blackness, wishing he had Mulcade's

sharp eyes to penetrate the gloom. Should he build a funeral

pyre or place sharp spears into the ground around Martbel's

body? Turning, he watched Elionbel gathering the kindling

wood and saw her despair. She was right, her father was

proud, it would break his heart to see how Martbel had

suffered.

 

'Kyot, come quickly,' he called, his mind made up. 'We must

help Elionbel build a funeral pyre before the marchers reach

the high plateau.'

 

'This fog will cover everything!' Kyot cried, gathering

bundles of kindling wood and weathered sticks as he retreated

across the plateau close on Thane's heels. Esteron snorted in

alarm and drew the Warhorses into a tight crescent on either

side of the rapidly growing pyre, for he could smell black tallow

in the ghost tails of fog sweeping across the plateau. The

Border Runners heard the panic in Kyot's voice and fanned out

 

across the plateau, quickly gathering all the sticks Thane

needed to finish building the pyre.

 

31

 

aThane thanked Grannog, rubbing his hands through the

thick sable coat as he knelt beside the Lord of Dogs and asked

him to guard the pyre until Martbel's ashes had been scattered

to the four winds. Grannog growled, his hackles rising razorsharp

along his back, and led the Border Runners into a tight

circle around the funeral pyre, facing outwards towards the

plateau's edge where feather tails of black fog were creeping

towards them. Thane and Kyot lifted up Martbel's body into

the centre of the pyre and secured it between the uppermost

twigs. Taking out his spark Thane turned and took Elionbel's

hand to draw her close-to him. 'Forgive me for doubting you,'

he whispered as he lit the spark. 'But I ran too slow to rescue

Martbel.'

 

Elionbel shivered and looked at the black fog that was

spilling towards them. 'No!' she answered fiercely, snatching

the spark. 'You did not fail. Mother's death began on the high

walls of the Granite City. Even with wings on your heels you

could not have changed or overcome her tragedy. The

darkness survives because - because . . .' Elionbel choked on

the truth, her mother's last words shouting in her head: Hide my

shame. Let no one know of the bastard, KrueL

 

Elionbel swallowed and opened her mouth to speak as dark

shapes breasted the plateau's edge. Stoops of owls rose

hooting and shrieking into the air. The Border Runners snarled

and leapt forwards and the Warhorses closed their crescent

around the funeral pyre. Thane grabbed at the spark and threw

it blazing into the base of the pyre and the bright greedy flames

leapt from branch to branch

 

'We will stand, battle ready, and sing Martbel's praises until

there is nothing left but her ashes,' cried Thane, turning

towards Elionbel and reaching inside his cloak for the tiny

silver finger bowl that she had sent to him as a token of her

love. 'The tragedy of this moment lies heavily on my shoulders

for it started less than twenty paces from where we stand when

Kerzolde stole your finger bowl; he snatched it from my belt as

we fought between the Gates of Night. But I found

 

32

 

the bowl, tarnished and spoilt amidst the ruins of your home at

Woodsedge and I knew that Krulshards had taken you.'

 

'He came in revenge,' Elion sobbed, blinking away the tears

as the pyre burned. She took the bowl and traced the love

legend with her little finger, then she shook her head and

looked up into Thane's eyes. 'He knew my name and came in

black terror to Woodsedge, but Mother would not lie before us

now if she had not tried to take my place. It was not only your

doing, Thane.'

 

Thane closed his hands around Elion's so that the cup was

between them. 'Do you wish that I had never lifted the finger

cup in ignorance to my lips at the honour feast in your father's

house?' he asked her in despair.

 

Elion looked steadily into his eyes, remembering clearly their

first moments, seeing again the shadowy hawthorn hollow in

the depths of the black forest, boiling with foul Nightbeast

shapes all screaming for her death. He had come then, unasked

and unexpected, a raw young warrior with a picture of the sun

on his arm, bringing hope with each glittering sweep of his

sword as he crossed the hollow. 'No,' she whispered, shaking

her head to scatter the memory. 'Fate drew us together and

wove our lives into one; through sunshine and shadow it

cannot be otherwise, nor will I ever wish it so!'

 

'But the finger bowl'' Thane cried, numb to Kyot's hand

tugging at his sleeve, trying to draw his attention to the

plateau's edge. 'If only I had not taken it into battle before the

Gates of Night, your mother would be with us now.'

 

'If I had not engraved it with our names entwined and given

it to Errant to deliver into your hands ...' Elion whispered,

looking at the flames greedily devouring her mother's body.

'Mother was warrior born,' she shouted above the noise of the

roaring flames, 'she knew I had engraved the cup and never

once spoke against it. She chose to stand against the

Nightmare so let us sing her honours out loud

 

33

 

and mix them with the hot sparks that climb up into the

morning sky.'

 

Eventine knelt and plucked some sprigs of ragged purple

heather and threw them one after another into dle roaring

flames. 'With each flower that is devoured by the fire we will

sing the lay of Martbel, warrior wife and loving mother, who

gave all she could to keep the darkness back.'

 

'She gave me comfort from the cold,' Thane began to

chant when Kyot finally managed to gain his attention.

 

'Thane, Thane,' he cried, 'Tombel's marchers are

approaching through the fog, look!'

 

Thane turned and stared at the plateau's edge. 'Tombel!'

he cried, seeing a forest of Marcher longspears casting dense

sun shadows across the purple heather. Before them in the

heather Grannog crouched, his lips curled in a silent snarl,

while the owls hovered overhead.

 

'Tombel!' he whispered again, gripping Elion's arm and

turning her towards the plateau. 'Look, it is your father's

battle crescent.'

 

Elionbel bit her knuckles and sighed with relief. 'I have

kept your secret, Mother,' she whispered, taking a step away

from the pyre and towards the advancing warriors.

 

'Once more, great Marcher Captain, we meet before the

Gates of Night,' Thane called as Tombel strode towards

them.

 

The Border Runners silendy parted to let him pass,

Esteron neighed and the ranks of Warhorses cantered out

across the plateau to reveal the fiercely burning funeral pyre.

Tombel strode forwards, the black mist glistening in tiny

shadowlights on the standard of the owl in blue and gold that

he proudly held before him. 'We come dlrough the blackest

night to win the sunlight. We ran without rest to destroy

Krulshards!' he cried.

 

'You come too late,' answered Thane quietly, pointing at

the severed head.

 

Tombel stopped, mid-stride, his Marching swords frozen

 

34

 

L

 

in his hands, his mouth falling silently open as he stared at

the severed head. 'By all the sunlight!' he gasped.

 

'Father, oh, Father!' Elionbel cried, rushing forwards and

throwing herself into her father's arms.

 

Tombel let the standard of the owl sway and topple to the

ground as he gathered Elion up into his arms. 'Child, we

have searched across Elundium,' he choked, tears of joy

filling his old eyes. 'We ran without hope and fought without

rest on the Nightbeasts' heels.'

 

Elionbel pressed her face into the coarse weave of her

father's battlecloak and wept, letting her grief and the terror

of the darkness drain away. 'Thane followed us into the City

of Night,' she sobbed. 'He rescued us from the Nightmare.'

 

'Us!' whispered Tombel, the muscles in his arms tightening

as his heart began pounding wildly. 'Us?' he cried again,

pushing Elion away. 'Where is your mother? Where is

Martbel?'

 

Thane moved quickly to where Krulshards' head lay in the

heather and lifted it up by its tangled hair. 'Lord,' he said

through trembling lips, 'I came too late to rescue Martbel.

Kerzolde stabbed her to death while I fought with Krulshards

Forgive me, Lord, I could not save her.'

 

Slowly Tombel searched the plateau, looking blindly past

Thane, forgetful of his victory until his eyes rested on the

fiercely burning funeral pyre. 'Martbel!' he shouted, taking a

huge step towards the roaring fire. 'Love of all my yesterlights,'

he cried, frantically pulling at the fire-charred sticks

 

at the base of the pyre. 'You must not leave me here alone.

Where in all Elundium will I ever find that soft smile and

gentle touch?'

 

'Father, she died a warrior's death and pledged me to burn

her body before the new sun set. She was in terror of the

dark.'

 

'I dared to hope that both of you lived,' answered Tombel,

h~s voice broken with despair. 'Throughout each dark

moment of those desperate daylights on the Nightbeasts'

 

35

 

aheels I called out your names. Why even as that black fog

spread across the Causeway Field and shadowed the sun we

heard a great cry that shook the mountain's roots, and the

Nightbeasts we had run down to the very Gates of Night

crumpled and fell into nothing, dying before our swords and

spears could spill one drop of their foul blood. Great changes

were in the air and we ran as we had never done before, hand in

hand lest we lose our way in the blackness, tight-lipped to save

each breath on the last uphill slopes of this dark place, only to

arrive too late. Oh why did you put fire to Martbel's body and

take her for ever from my sight? Were my Marchers not worthy

enough to set a ring of long spears about her against the

darkness?'

 

'If we had known . . .' said Eventine gently, taking Tombel's

hand.

 

'But we were less than half a league below this place when

you lit the spark, surely you heard the jingle of our armour, or

the tramp of marching feet?' cried Tombel, anger boiling up in

his heart.

 

Elionbel bent her head, new tears welling up as she strove to

hide her mother's shame. 'If I had heard your footsteps . . .' she

sobbed, taking a step towards her father.

 

'My footsteps!' he shouted turning on her angrily. 'You

rushed a spark without a second's thought and we have run

without rest clear across all Elundium!'

 

'Would you have me go against Mother's pledge?' Elionbel

answered quickly, catching her breath as she fought to hide the

truth. 'Once as the Nightmare dragged us into a dank forest we

cried out for your help, Father, but you were deaf to us, our

cries were muffled by the tramp of marching feet.'

 

'When the grey swan flew overhead?' interrupted Tombel.

 

'Yes,' nodded Elionbel sadly, looking up into the bright

morning sky and blinking away her tears. 'Alone and beautiful

she came, beating the bleak morning mist beneath her

darkening wingspan, crying out in a haunting voice. I think she

was telling us Thane would follow and rescue us no

 

36

 

matter how black the road became. Again and again she

swooped low over our heads as the Nightmare, Krulshards, ran

us beneath the eaves of Mantern's Forest. The swan drove

Krulshards to a rage with her sweet music and he feared her

presence would tell you where we were hidden. He hurled a

black barbed spear he kept hidden beneath his malice and it

pierced her breast, driving her away across the winter

grasslands.'

 

'The grey swan of doom,' whispered Tombel, turning

towards Elionbel. 'We heard it, daughter, and saw it swooping

low across the grasslands and I thought it was an omen, a sign

that sent us far on the wrong path.'

 

'No,' said Thane, quietly, 'the grey swans led me tirelessly

across Elundium on Krulshards' heels and paid dearly with

their voices for finding Elionbel. Blame them not, my Lord, for

without their help Elion would also be dead.'

 

'And they led us to you, Thane, when you were lost in the

marsh,' added Kyot, smiling.

 

'And they showed us the doorcrack into the City of Night,'

murmured Eventine, shading her eyes as she picked out two

lines of dark shapes rising up from beyond the steep summit of

Mantern's Mountain towards the distant sun.

 

Thane followed Eventine's gaze and for a moment watched

the swans. 'All Elundium shall be yours to fly within and any

stretch of water that you choose shall be named Swanwater in

payment for leading me to Elionbel. I promise that the new king

shall grant this,' he cried, and as if in answer one swan left the

line and turned and swooped low across their heads, the

morning sunlight shining brilliant white upon her breast.

 

'Thank you, Ousious,' Thane shouted, intertwining his

fingers with Elion's and lifting their hands above his head in

salute. 'You kept your promise and through the greatest

 

danger brought me to the one I love. I will never forget your

sweet voice.'

 

Tombel sighed softly, lifting his eyes from the pyre. He

turned to Thane as the grey swans dipped out of sight below

 

37

 

the plateau's rim. 'You really did it, Thane. You trod where

no other warrior in Elundium dared, you have ended the

darkness, you have destroyed the Nightmare, Krulshards.'

 

Thane laughed nervously pushing Krulshards' severed

head forwards with the tip of his boot and sweeping his hand

back towards the gathered company. 'His death belongs to all

of us. Fate drew us together, I could not have done it alone.'

 

Tombel looked from one to another, his sad face slowly

creasing with joy and laughter. 'No more darkness! No more

Nightbeasts! Just look how the sun sparkles - ' He hesitated,

gripping Thane's arm. 'If only King Holbian could have seen

this moment . . . if only he could have shared this triumph.'

 

'Lord, there was a King on the Causeway Field,' interrupted

Willow, 'I saw him as I left the eaves of Mantern's

Forest. He looked old and brittle sitting astride a proud

chestnut horse; he wore a cloak that glittered with the shine

of steelsilver and all about him were gathered a great company

in ragged dirty clothes.'

 

'King Holbian!' shouted Thane, turning towards the

wreath tails of black fog that boiled along the plateau's edge.

'It is the King's battle crescent that waits on the Causeway

Field.'

 

'We must go to him, our greatest Granite King,' cried

Tombel, 'for he has returned from the dead leading all the

city folk that vanished in the siege-lock on the Granite City.

Willow, show us where he awaits.'

 

Thane bent down and wound his fingers into Krulshards'

dead locks of hair, lifted the severed head and sprang up on

to Esteron's back. 'Come,' he shouted, 'let us descend to the Causeway

Field and kneel before King Holbian.'

 

Elionbel hesitated beside the pyre twisting purple heather

between her fingertips. 'None will know, Mother,' she whispered

before turning towards the plateau's edge. Eventine

paused beside the cooling pyre and stared down at the rag

ends of cloak and skirt that had not been consumed by the

fire. 'There is something here, something hidden that has the

 

38

 

t.

L

 

smell of disaster,' she whispered, touching the smooth oiled

wood of her bow. Behind her a stag roared and hooves

scattered loose shale as Tanglecrown led Sprint and Stumble

down to the plateau. Turning, Eventine laughed and waved a

greeting, the secrets of the fire forgotten.

 

39

 

The Last of the Granite Kings

 

As the black storms boiled out of the broken summit of

Mantern'sMountain King Holbian hunched his back against

the wind, seeking what shelter he could from his borrowed

cloak. 'Light would be a rare treasure,' he whispered, closing

his fingers around a spark and thinking back to the lights in

Candlebane Hall.

 

Dimly, the beginnings of an idea formed on the edge of his

mind, and smiling, he straightened up in the saddle. 'Even

false daylight would be better than this gloom, let the mirror

of Candlebane Hall shine out here across the Causeway

Field.'

 

Casting the cloak aside he called Breakmaster and Errant

to his side. 'We shall have light in this black, forgotten place.

Ride with all haste against the wind; ride along each sweep of

the crescent and tell the Marchers, Gallopers and Archers,

even tell the city folk, to light each and every spark and candle

brought out of the Granite City. Let them blaze bright in this

darkness, let them show the Nightmare the power of the

people of Elundium!'

 

Laughing, the King spurred Beacon Light until he stood

beside the Master of Magic. 'I am still the King of all

Elundium, and I say that we shall have the light of Candlebane

Hall even here in this dismal place!'

 

'Hush,' whispered Nevian, holding up his hand, 'for there

is much beyond the Causeway Field I do not understand.

 

40

 

.

 

:

 

]

!

 

1

.

 

1

t

 

t

s

i

 

L'

it.

 

Listen, I hear the roar of flames, the tramp of marching feet,

and the pounding of hooves.'

 

'Enough of what lies beyond our sight,' interrupted the

King. 'Turn your head and listen to the crackle of a thousand

sparks. Look towards the crescent.'

 

'Sparks!' cried the magician spinning round. 'Beware,

Lord. You act dangerously in making false daylight for if it is

the Nightmare lust beyond our sight he will swallow up your

feeble light. This darkness that tests your courage is nothing

but a lifetime of Krulshards' hatred of the light boiling out of

the City of Night. Hold your courage steady. Soon the

darkness will pass, but you must order your warriors to hide

their lights.'

 

'No!' cried the King. 'This is not the time for caution, this

is the moment for risk. The last great moments of the Granite

Kings are here and they shall end in a blaze of light.'

 

'But the smoke from the candles' tallow wicks and the

sulphur fumes of the sparks will lay heavily across the

Causeway Field. When this rush of dark wind falls away to

nothing, it will lay as a black fog that hides the sunlight.'

 

This wmd will not change and my warriors will not hide

their lights,' shouted the King, crackling his own spark into

life as he pirouetted Beacon Light back towards the crescent

but even before he had reined him to a halt he felt the wind

against his face dropping and saw too late the wisdom in

 

Nevian's words, for a clear blue sky had begun to break

through Krulshards' dark storms only to recede and fade

away as the candle fog spread above their heads.

 

Behind him the magician laughed harshly. 'It is still the

place of Kings to make our fate. Perhaps your haste will yet

bring old legends to life.'

 

'How so?' shouted the King, twisting his head but Nevian's

answer was muffled in the black tallow fumes and fell away

to nothing.

 

'Curse! Curse my haste!' muttered the King, throwing his

spark angrily on to the ground as he watched the furthest

 

41

 

ends of the battle crescent dim and fade into the deepening

gloom. All around him warriors choked and coughed while

the city folk shifted dlis way and that on the edge of panic as

the thickening fog setded over them.

 

Breakmaster ran breathlessly to the King's stirrup, leading

his pony, Mulberry, on a tight bridle. 'Lord, the storms have

turned against us, I could barely feel my way back along the

front rank of the battle crescent.'

 

Bending stimy forwards in the saddle King Holbian

gripped the horseman's hand. 'You must go back,' he said.

'Go and snuff out every flame that has been lit, for I have

brought this darkness through my haste for light. Go, hurry

before we choke to death in these foul fumes.'

 

Breakmaster saw panic in the King's eyes and felt it

through his britde grip. Breaking free he turned without a

word and vanished into the still fog. The King heard his

voice crying out faindy to extinguish the lights as he moved

along the crescent.

 

Nevian took a step backwards away from the horsetail

sword and lifted his head to stare up into the gloom, his

eyebrows creasing into a frown. Something was passing

overhead through the heavy fog, he felt the draught of its

passage and watched the fog begin to swirl and twist itself

into whirlpools and eddies. Shrill cries and hoots floated

down across the crescent while the ground beneath their feet

trembled and shook with the noise of marching feet.

 

'The last moments of Elundium have come!' shouted the

King despatching Errant to draw both curves of the crescent

so tight that the warriors, though blinded by the fog, touched

shoulder to shoulder and the Nighthorses pressed flank to

flank behind a glittering sweep of spearblades.

 

'The Nightmare is upon us!' cried Breakmaster. 'I have

seen his shape through the black fog!'

 

Thunderstone heard the horseman's cry and sprang forward

to retrieve the horsetail sword but Nevian stilled him

 

42

 

~ L

 

. _

 

with a hand upon his arm, bidding him to wait and see what

Fate had brought on to the Causeway Field.

 

Tiethorm felt panic as he waited in the centre of the strike

of Archers at the far end of the crescent. 'We are useless

here; we should move with the tide of battle, sweeping where

the danger is the greatest.'

 

'No, no! We should surround the King,' urged Grey

Goose, first Archer of the Granite City. 'That is where the

Nightmare will strike.'

 

'But careful Archer eyes are always set at each end of the

crescent to see all before two armies clash, surely that is our

pledge?' interrupted a doubtful voice from within the strike.

 

'Move to the centre of the crescent,' hissed Grey Goose,

his mind made up. 'If this black fog clears we will see nothing

but the grim doors of Underfall, surround the King and keep

him safe. Let us be first to face the Nightmare!'

 

Without another word the Archers bent double and raced

along the broad sweep of the crescent, a hand's span beneath

the other warriors' spearblades. 'Who called you?' shouted

the King, his face dark with anger. 'Who gave you leave to

break the crescent?'

 

'Lord,' cried Grey Goose, falling on to one knee, 'just as

we were together on the black road beneath Elundium, let us

stand with you now and be first against the Nightmare.'

 

King Holbian's face softened as he remembered their

escape from the ruined city. 'Be easy, brave Archers, and

return quickly to your places. Your sharp eyes are needed at

each end of the crescent.'

 

'But, Lord . . .' Grey Goose began to plead when the King

hushed him into silence. The fog was thinning, sending ghost

tafl shadows fleeing across the Causeway Field, everywhere

around them the ratde of armour and the jangle of battle

harness sounded. Dark shapes were looming through the

lessening gloom.

 

Nevian laughed and spread his arms, shaking out the folds

of the rainbow cloak as a great Bird of War stooped to his

 

43

 

shoulder and folded his wings. 'Behold!' the magician cried,

pointing up past the bulky shape of Eagle Owl at the other

two owls, stooping fast towards the hilt of the horsetail sword,

a bright banner stretched between their talons. 'Behold the

standard of the new King descends on to the Causeway Field

to drive back the shadows.'

 

'Old legends have come true. It is just as you foretold!'

cried the King, rubbing his eyes against the sparkling light

that reflected from the folds of Thane's summer scarf where

it rested, draped across the hilt of the sword.

 

'You have helped Fate to make it so, even the tallow fog

from your candles spread this false darkness,' whispered the

magician, taking the King's hand and pointing beyond the

sword to where the Causeway Field was filling with warriors,

Warhorses and Border Runners who passed through the

steep pine forest on the lower slopes of the mountain and

hurried towards them. Before them rode a small company of

horsemen. And at last the sun broke through.

 

Thunderstone laughed and wept with joy as his ancient

eyes picked out Thane on Esteron. Turning, he ran to the

King's stirrup. 'Look, my Lord, the boy you sent to grow

strong in the fortress of Underfall: Thanehand who carried

our hopes into the darkness - he has returned.'

 

'He carries a dark shadow in his right hand, my Lord,'

added Breakmaster, moving close to the King.

 

Holbian shaded his eyes against the afternoon light then

spurred Beacon Light forwards to meet Thane. Thank

hesitated as the King rode towards him. Everywhere he

looked was a sea of faces silently watching him. King Holbian

laughed and reined Beacon Light to a halt. 'Long long ago

beneath the walls of Underfall Nevian foretold that I would

greet you gladly here upon the Causeway Field. I doubted i'

then and in the thrust of youth even strove to make i'

otherwise, jealously guarding my crown, but now I see the

wisdom of Nevian's words and greet you with joy

 

44

 

Thanehand, for you are indeed worthy of the Kingship of

Elundium.'

 

'No, Lord!' Thane cried in dismay, jumping lightly to the

ground and holding up the severed head. 'I love you, my

King, and sought nothing but to seine you. I bring you

Krulshards' head. The darkness is over and the nightbeasts

are dead. Now you can rule in easier times, my Lord.'

 

King Holbian's gaze swept across the Causeway Field then

he looked down at Thane. 'No, Thane, I am beyond my time

and strove only for this moment. Fate called you out and has

fashioned you into a king and all Elundium has been gathered

here to see you crowned.'

 

'No, Lord,' whispered Thane again, shrinking backwards,

'I could not be a king.'

 

King Holbian laughed and with the help of Thunderstone

and Breakmaster he dismounted stimy from Beacon Light's

saddle. 'Already you have brought old legends to life and

driven the shadows back and done more than I ever dared by

entering the City of Night and killing Krulshards, but now

time runs before us and leaves us little time for debate. Come

and kneel before me and take the crown for when this sun

reaches evening time and vanishes beyond World's End I

shall turn back into brittle stone and Elundium will be

Kingless. Come, kneel quickly for Fate has tested you and

found you worthy of my place.'

 

Thane made to take another backward step as terror took

his heart but Nevian stopped him with firm hands. 'Hold

still! All Elundium is watching!'

 

'But I am only a Candleman's son,' Thane gasped in

horror, as Nevian forced him down on to his knees. Shakily

the King was reaching up for the steelsilver crown that rested

on his head.

 

'Worthy or not,' hissed Nevian, 'many have paid a high

price and laboured hard that you might kneel before Holbian.

 

Remember Silverwing, the Battle Owl, and brave Amarch,

your grandfather's Warhorse, stabbed to death before the

 

45

 

aGates of Night. Why, even Archerorm and your own father,

Ironhand, came forward when Fate called them. Now kneel and

be worthy of them!'

 

Thane bowed his head, a large tear "athering in the corner

of his eye as he remembered the blind Bathe Owl and the

beautiful Warhorse. 'All for me,' he whispered.

 

'They saw beyond your humble beginnings, Thane, to the

man who would walk in the darkness and one day destroy the

Nightmare. Theirs were the first whispers of your name for the

Kingship of Elundium: they believed in you and helped you

through blackest night. Now take the crown.'

 

Blushing deep scarlet Thane looked up at the King. 'I am

ready, Lord,' he stuttered hesitancy, 'but I do not know what a

king should say or do, and I have no skill for ruling or

government.'

 

King Holbian smiled, holding the glittering crown aloft. 'Fate

has tempered you through pain and hardship and given you

the courage to walk in the dark where only Kings may tread,

that is claim enough. The rest of Kingship will come easily if

you are careful with chose who walk at your side. Breakmaster

and Errant are both pledged to serve you as faithfully as they

served me. Elionbel will be a brave queen, loyal and true Trough

the blackest hours and no King could wish for better friends

than Kyotorm, the new Keeper of the tower on Stumble Hill

and Eventine, the beautiful Lady of Clatterford.'

 

'You know of Elionbel and my race across Elundium on

Krulshards' heels?' exclaimed Thane, half-rising.

 

Holbian laughed. 'All Elundium knows of it, Thane, and

loves you all the more for it, but the daylight runs before me

and Here is much to do before I turn to stone.'

 

Thane reached up and carefully eased the heavy steel crown

into place upon his head. Rising slowly to his feet he stumbled

as he tried to keep his balance and would have fallen, but

Nevian's strong hands steadied him. Everywhere across the

Causeway Field She shout for his Kingship filled

 

46

 

l

 

l

 

;

1;

. ,

 

f

1,

 

,. 1

 

1,

 

;

 

1'

 

.,

 

~   ;

 

I:

 

i:.

 

Ji

 

,  ~

 

the air. Again and again She ground trembled and shook to

the clash of spear butts on shields and then as one and

without a signal the warriors, Marchers, Archers and city folk

knelt and offered up their bright sword hilts and polished

spear shafts in salute as the shadows began to lengthen.

 

King Holbian spread his hands and silence fell once more.

Slowly he unsheathed his sword and turned its hilt towards

 

Thane. 'With this, my sword, I commend to you the people of

Elundium. Be their shepherd and guard them well, the weak

and the strong, She young with the old, that they may all

walk at peace in the sunshine.'

 

Thane closed his left hand around the hilt of the sword and

took it gently from the King's fingers. Moving to stand beside

the horsetail sword he drove the King's blade pointdeep into

the turf. Turning to face the multitude of waiting faces he lifted

Krulshards' severed head with both hands high above his

head and then without pause he brought it firmly down on to

the sword's hilt, impaling the broken windpipe on the bright

metal. Black blood splashed across the blade, the skinless jaw

snapped open and it seemed a single dead howl of rage fled,

echoing low across the bleak shoulders of Mantern's

Mountain.

 

'The Nightmare is dead and gone. Long shine the sunlight in

all Elundium!' shouted Thane. Lifting up the summer scarf, he

held it with both hands and stretched it taut then turned

towards King Holbian. 'Beneath my banner, great King, I shall

honour every word and pledge and do your bidding

throughout Elundium.'

 

King Holbian took the summer scarf from Thane's hands and

brought it to his lips. 'I bless this, the new banner of Elundium,,

he cried, sweeping it in a glittering arc of light above his head.

'For it will shine brighter than the owl in blue and gold and

bring a better light into this shadowy world.'

 

'No, my Lord,' Thane said quietly as he took back the scarf,

'the standard of the owl shall always hang beside the

 

47

 

picture of the sun and each daylight they will together watch

over the people of Elundium.'

 

King Holbian smiled as he took Thane's hand and spoke

softly. 'The beginnings of this moment were at our first

meeting in that secret room high in the towers of Granite.

Even then as you sat at my feet, a frightened child fleeing

from the Chancellors, I saw it. Yet I dared not utter one word

for Nevian had foretold that Fate would push you out into a

raw and dangerous world; he said that it would be your

making.' Laughing quietly the King touched Thane's

summer scarf again, letting his brittle fingers pass over the

silky threads. 'Who would have guessed how many royal

banners would have to pale and age in the Towers of Granite

to make the new standard of Elundium.'

 

'But, Lord, this picture of the sun was only a forgotten

scarf I took from my mother's pocket on the night of my

flight from the Granite City.'

 

King Holbian laughed again, gripping Thane's arm. 'That,

Thane, is the power of Fate, for it moves all the little things,

pulling them this way and that to sense its purpose. But

enough of idle chatter, the sun is drawing the shadows long

and you must help me to find my resting place in the Palace

of Kings; in the vaults beneath the fortress of Underfall.'

 

Thane knelt and took the King's brittle, chilling hand into

his own and brought it to his lips, answering in a quiet voice,

'Lord of all that is dear to me, there are no vaults beneath

the fortress of Underfall, there is nothing but the bleak bones

of Mantern's Mountain that muffle the footsteps of the

warriors who guard it.'

 

King Holbian thought quickly, searching in even corner

of his mind. He shivered, remembering the dark narrow

flight of steps he had once found an age of suns ago.

Beckoning Breakmaster and Errant to give him courage in

his last journey he turned towards the sheer walls of Underfall

where they rose black against the setting sun and shouted in

 

48

 

1

i

 

At..

 

a loud voice, 'Now is the moment when I must descend into

the darkness and dwell forever beyond the light.'

 

'It was foretold, Lord,' whispered Nevian as he cast the

rainbow cloak across Holbian's shoulders to warm him and

helped him towards the great doors.

 

'Time has run out from me,' Holbian sighed in a voice fun

of regret. 'That is the curse of the darkness for it measures

time, heralding each daylight and marking its beginning and

its end, pulling each hour of beautiful light into an endless

stream of yesterlights. One more moment, I beg you, Nevian.

Let me pause and look once more across the broad sweep of

the Causeway Field, let me see the people of Elundium, the

proud Warhorses and the Battle Owls; let me look on all that

I strove for.'

 

'Just for one moment,' Nevian said, helping Holbian to

turn. As he stood with a hand on Breakmaster and Errant,

Eagle Owl, the Lord of the Owls, stooped on to his shoulder

and Equestrius, the Lord of Horses, with Thoron on his

back, broke from the eaves of Mantern's Forest to gallop

hard across the Causeway Field, leading a great crescent of

Warhorses towards Underfall.

 

'Lord of Lords,' Thoron cried, 'we have ridden hard

through all the wild places to be with you on the Causeway

Field but as this sun turned towards evening we feared we

had come too late.'

 

Holbian smiled as he clasped Thoron's hand. 'It makes my

tired heart shout with joy to see you again for you have

brought hope with the morning and chased away my fears at

night. Walk with me, Thoronhand and help me to find my

place in the darkness.'

 

As Thoron knelt to kiss Holbian's hand Equestrius

neighed, calling out the Warhorse challenge, and knelt beside

Thoron in homage to the King. Far and wide across the

Causeway Field proud crescents of Warhorses answered and

knelt for King Holbian.

 

'All is forgiven, Lord,' whispered Nevian, taking the King's

 

49

 

hand and placing it on Equestrius' shoulder. 'The bondbreaking

is over, Krulshards is dead and you can rest secure

that Elundium will flourish in Thanehand's care.'

 

King Holbian sighed, the cares of Kingship falling from

his shoulders. He lifted his hand and caressed Eagle Owl's

smooch shiny talons. 'Be with me as I enter the darkness for

now there is nodling to fear.'

 

Kerzolde knelt before the narrow crack that led into the

tombs beneath Underfall and shivered, afraid of what might

wait ahead. He hesitated. Without the Nightmare's malice to

hide behind, he feared She light and knew nodling but halftruths

and whispers of what lay beyond Elundium. 'Shadowlands

and darklights,' he muttered, as Kerhunge pushed

impatiently against his shoulder, eager to be far away from

the foul warriors that ringed the City of Night.

 

'Get back and wait your turn,' Kerzolde spat, moving

forwards and wriggling through the narrow crack Krulshards

had found and used as a secret entrance into the vaults.

Kruel had slept soundly during their flight down Through tile

darkness, growing a lithe stronger on tile dark meats from

the spawning banks but he was awake now, fretful and

hungry, clawing and biting into Kerzolde's coarse, hairy

chest. Cursing, Kerzolde tore a dlin sliver of flesh from the

strips hanging from his belt and pushed it with his one good

claw through tile opening in his bathe jerkin. The baby

quietened as it devoured She meat and Kenolde stood rockstill,

staring at the frozen kings.

 

Kerhunge scrambled Through the narrow crack. He

sneered at the rows of petrified stone kings that stood before

him and, raising his rusty spear blade, he lunged forwards.

'Leave them,' snarled Kenolde, pulling at Kerhunge's scaly

armour. 'This is not the time to seek revenge.'

 

Kerhunge lowered his spear blade and muttered under his

breach, then he fell behind Kerzolde. 'Master would have

 

50

 

broken every foul stone king into a Thousand pieces if he had

been with us.'

 

'Quiet!' hissed Kenolde, turning sharply and jamming his

broken claw into Kerhunge's dribbling mouth. 'We are

beneath the fortress of Underfall; guards patrol each courtyard,

owls hover sharp-eyed in every doorway. Quiet!'

 

'How will we escape?' gasped Kerhunge, pulling back from

his brother's stifling claw.

 

Kenolde tilted his head on one side and listened, his

clawed foot on the first broken step that led up into the

innermost courtyard of Underfall. 'This place is empty. All

chose foul warriors must be on the mountainside. Only one,

no two, guard this place,' he hissed, opening and holding up

his one good claw and pointing to the steps. 'They are moving

towards us, crossing the cobbles beyond She first low archway

that leads into the outer courtyards.'

 

Kerhunge wet his spearblade, licking at the barbed cutting

edge with his ragged purple tongue. 'Revenge!' he whispered,

nimbly climbing the steps to crouch in the shadows of the

low arch on the far side of the courtyard.

 

Kerzolde sniffed the air and laughed. A black tallow-filled

fog was drifting in curling ghost tails across the cobblestones,

spinning Trough the low archway to darken She inner

courtyard. Escape would be easy now. Once They were beyond

the outer doors They would melt away, disappear to find the

Shadowlands.

 

The crunch of armoured boots drew closer, cutting short

Kerzolde's thought of escape. He crouched down, frozen on

the stone-choked steps, his broken claw drawn across the

baby. Kruel moved within the jerkin and struggled against

the claw. As he opened his mouth to cry out, Kerzolde tore

at The strips of Nightbeast flesh hanging from his belt,

scattering broad drops of black blood across the steps, and

crammed a sliver of the meat into the baby's mouth. The

guards paused beneath the low archway, staring into the

deepening blackness.

 

51

 

a'What was that?' hissed the nearest guard.

 

'Nodding,' answered the other, pulling his cloak more tightly

about his shoulders. 'Nodling but the bones of Mantern's

Mountain groaning in the dark.'

 

'We should search each shadow,' muttered the first guard,

taking a reluctant step into the blackened courtyard.

 

'But nodling has entered the Great Doors or passed by us in

the outer courtyards,' replied the other guard, turning away.

'Come on, come away from tills dismal place.'

 

Kerhunge licked his lips letting a dribble of spittle trickle,

forgotten, down his chin. He was greedy to kill yet he waited

until the nearest guard was turning, stepping back under the

archway, afraid to search the courtyard on his own. Kerhunge

lunged silendy, rising out of the shadows. Twice his long scaly

arms rose and fell as his black spearblade cut through the

unsuspecting warriors' cloaks, shattering their backbones in

one quick stroke. Gurgling with delight he bent down and

turned each helpless guard on to his back then slowly slit their

dlroats with a cubed skinning knife.

 

'No time,' hissed Kerzolde, crossing the courtyard and

roughly pushing Kerhunge away from the dead guards as he

knelt to drink Heir warm sticky blood. 'We must use tills black

mist to escape. Quickly, follow me.'

 

Reaching the great door they halted and looked out. Black

fog boiled across the Causeway Field, muffled shouts and tile

jangle of bathe armour sounded everywhere. Kerzolde looked

to left and right, undecided. He knelt, put his ear to tile ground

and listened, then, rising in panic, he stared up past the sheer

walls of Underfall, putting a protective claw over the baby.

 

'Warriors are descending from tile Gates of Night. Owls fill

the air and I can hear that foul Granite King we had siegelocked

in the Granite City. He is before us with marching

warriors on the Causeway Field.'

 

'Which way?' snarled Kerhunge, clawing at his brother's

arm. 'Which way now?'

The fog was moving, swirling as it thinned above them.

Stoops of battle Owls filled the clearing sky. Kerzolde crouched

as if to hide and saw the moment of their escape slipping away.

Hesitate one second longer and they would be seen. Kruel

struggled beneath the broken claw and cried out. Kerzolde

leapt to his feet, but which way could they escape? Everywhere

before them was full of warriors. As he had feared, the

Causeway Field was closed against them. The ground beneath

their feet trembled to the beat of Warhorse hooves. To the

left and the right, shapes - warrior shapes were closing in.

Turning back towards the sheer walls Kerzolde searched,

stumbled and almost fell into the deep slime-filled drainage

dyke that skirted the walls.

 

'Where are you?' hissed Kerhunge spinning round, setting

his spear against the drifting mist. 'Where have you gone?' he

snarled.

 

'Jump down into the dyke, there is no other way to escape,'

called Kerzolde from somewhere near Kerhunge's feet.

 

Kerhunge looked down into the murky shadows. Behind

him armoured boots were crunching on the gravel of the

Causeway Road, Border Runners barked and the sharp jingle

of batle harness drew closer.

 

'Curse all foul warriors,' hissed Kerhunge, scrambling down

into the deep dyke that ran along the base of the sheer granite

walls, taking the fortress's waste beyond the shoulders of

Mantern's Mountain into a dark culvert surrounded by broken

boulders and mounds of rubbish. Kerhunge descended in a

shower of loose stones and sank with a dull splash up to his

waist in stinking black slime.

 

'Hush!' hissed Kerzolde, drawing the top of his jerkin tight to

keep Kruel safe as he gathered clawfuls of the slime and

rubbed it over his hairy face. 'This black mud and the shadows

from the overhanging galleries will hide us from the sharp-eyed

owls, it is our only way of escape.'

 

'The smell of this place will hide us even from the keen

noses of the Border Runners,' grunted Kerhunge lowering

himself until just his head appeared above the mire.

 

'Cover everything,' whispered Kerzolde.

 

Kerhunge snarled with disgust and slapped handfuls of the

black slime over his head, plastering his tangle of lank hair to

the prickly skin of his neck.

 

'everything!' insisted Kerzolde in a hushed whisper. Above

them horsemen cantered along the lip of the dyke, their

shadows skimming over the black slime.

 

Kerhunge scooped up two handfuls of the waste and buried

his face in it. Spitting the foul taste of it out of his mouth he

looked up at Kerzolde. 'Which way now?' he whispered.

 

Kerzolde turned and pointed along the curio of the dyke,

through a rough-hewn tunnel that passed beneath the Causeway

Road, to a black hole half-hidden in a wilderness of

broken stones. Rank marsh grasses and black-flagged bulrushes

grew on either side of the gaping culvert and all

around it, trapped in a swampy gully, stagnant pools of water

caught the afternoon sunlight.

 

'That is the only road we can take to escape from these

warriors,' whispered Kerzolde, wading carefully through the

slime, keeping in the blackest shadows and hardly causing a

ripple to spread across the surface. Kerhunge sank as low as

he could until his chin touched the black mire and followed.

 

'Kerzolde,' he hissed, shrinking back against the steep wall

of the dyke as huge Border Runners came to the edge,

sniffing and growling at the black mud. 'Help me,' he

whispered fiercely.

 

Kerzolde, turned, a sneer of hatred on his lips. 'Nothing,

not even the Border Runners could scent you in this foul

ditch. Keep well away from them and follow me.'

 

Kerhunge crept forwards with one eye on the savage dogs.

They could sense something was in the ditch and kept pace

with it, their hackles raised razor-sharp along their backs, but

when Kerhunge emerged from the tunnel that ran beneath

the Causeway Road the dogs had turned away to join the

great company of horsemen and Marchers descending

through the dissolving fog from the high plateau.

 

The dyke widened, suddenly shallowing, forcing Kerzolde

and Kerhunge on to their knees to remain hidden from any

eyes that might look their way. Ten crawling paces and they

were in amongst the bulrushes. Kerzolde grunted in relief,

stood up and wiped the slime from his face. Turning, he

stared hatefully out across the Causeway Field while carefully

lifting the baby into the sunlight.

 

'Curse you, Thanehand, Galloperspawn!' he spat, catching

sight of Thane in the centre of the crescent of warriors.

Thane was standing before the Granite King, lifting Krulshards'

severed head, a black shadow in the afternoon

sunlight, and showing it to the crescent. The old King was

holding a crown above Thane's head.

 

'Curse you, nightstealer,' spat Kerzolde holding the baby

up so he could see who had destroyed his father.

 

Kruel blinked and peered out through the bulrushes. He

clapped his hands together, a snarl of anger on his lips as the

sunlight caught his face. Kerzolde stared at the baby and

cried out in surprise.

 

'Owls!' cried Kerhunge, cutting short his brother's shout

and grabbing at his arm as a dark shadow wheeled across the

sun and turned towards them. Stumbling and splashing

through the stinking swamp the two Nightbeasts ducked out

of sight into the darkness of the culvert a moment before the

 

owls stooped low over the dyke.

 

'Look!' hissed Kerzolde breathlessly, holding up the baby

against the light at the entrance to the culvert. 'Kruel is

shadowless!'

 

Kerhunge gasped in wonder and reached out to touch the

baby, seeing that he left no trace or mark to show his passage

through the sunlight. Kerzolde laughed with delight, hiding

the baby safely in his jerkin. 'Yes, and we have saved him

from the warriors. Mark my words, brotherbeast, he will grow

from this daylight to be more powerful than his father, and

take all Elundium as his own.'

 

Kerhunge nodded in agreement and was about to turn

away from the sunlight and wade forwards, following the

sound of running water that echoed somewhere ahead in the

darkness of the culvert when he saw movement in the reeds.

He crept a pace nearer to the entrance and peered out.

Kerzolde followed. Ahead of them, two figures, clasped

together, slowly rose out of the bulrushes, turned and stared

out across the Causeway Field. One of the figures cursed

loudly. 'Two warriors!' Kerhunge snarled, drawing his bloodsmeared

blade.

 

'No!' hissed Kerzolde pulling him back into the darkness.

Hearing a voice, the two figures ducked down again into the

reeds. 'They are not warriors. One of them is dressed in

Chancellor's rags and he holds a dagger against the other's

throat. And the Chancellor cursed the Granite King. He

hates him as much as we do. Leave them to the warriors or

the Border Runners to find; we must follow the water and

escape to the Shadowlands.'

 

Silverpurse, the Chancellor's son, waited until the sounds

from the culvert had died away before he rose, forcing

Pinchface, the Loremaster, to his feet on the point of his

dagger. He watched King Holbian advance across the Causeway

Field. 'You will pay with your life for murdering my

father!' Silverpurse spat between clenched teeth. 'When I

have gathered strength I will take your crown and slit your

throat,' he hissed at the fading figure of the King then he

prodded the helpless Loremaster out of the reeds into the

rough broken scrubland that stretched towards the shadows

of Mantern's Forest.

 

Eagle Owl hooted softly and spread his wings as King

Holbian, unaware of his enemies' escape turned and passed

between the great wooden doors to take the first steps into

the shadows of Underfall. Thunderstone hurried before him,

lighting torches to show the way into the inner courtyards.

Behind him Thunderstone could hear footsteps and easy

laughter mixing with the jingle of battle armour as the King

followed, gathering together the last threads of Fate that had

drawn all Elundium on to the Causeway Field to be at the

crowning of the new King. Thunderstone reached up to

spark a "uttering torch then cried out as the new light flooded

across the cobbles before him, showing two twisted bodies

lying across the entrance to the innermost courtyard. 'Beware,

my Lord, there is black murder in Underfall!'

 

'Murder?' cried Nevian, leaving the King's side and moving

quickly to where Thunderstone stood over the twisted bodies.

Noting the terror frozen into their dead eyes, Nevian straightened,

staring searchingly into the low arches and flights of

stone steps that led up into the darkness shrouding the lower

galleries. 'It is more than murder,' he whispered. 'Something

terrible has survived the Nightmare's death to walk in this

fortress.'

 

Nevian fumed and the bright colours of the rainbow cloak

shone in the half light. He called to Kyot and Eventine and

bade them take a strike of Archers and search throughout the

fortress. 'Search every gallery and walkway, leave no stone

unturned,' he urged them in whispers.

 

Kyot and Eventine nodded, fumed noiselessly to climb the

lower stairways and vanished into the gloom.

 

Nevian, his forehead creased into a thousand wrinkles,

drew Thane aside. 'There is no time to spare, the shadows

are lengthening, we must rest the King in the tombs below

this fortress before he turns to stone. We must hurry and find

the entrance to the vaults, I know it is somewhere in this

blackened courtyard.'

 

'Willow has sharp eyes in the dark for he was bom in the

City of Night. He could find the entrance faster than anyone

else,' Thane suggested, then Mulcade hooted softly, pressing

his talons through the weave of his cloak and making him

 

57

 

alaugh. 'The owls will search with him for they have the

sharpest eyes in all Elundium.'

 

'Willow,' Nevian called out, 'your King has great need of you

to find him a way beneath the ground.'

 

Willow broke through the press of warriors surrounding the

King and entered the darkened courtyard, stepping past the

dead warriors. Slowly he searched, his large round eyes probing

every shadow, his shell-shaped ears listening to every sound.

Pace by pace he crossed the courtyard until he stood beneath

the sheer, rough-hewn wall of Mantern's Mountain. Kneeling,

he touched the cobbles, feeling for the first step. 'Here, Lord,' he

cried to Nevian as he found the hole cut into the bones of

Mantern's Mountain long before the first Granite King had been

laid to rest.

 

Armed with flickering torches Breakmaster, Errant and

Thunderstone brought the weakening King to the edge of the

first step. Below them a once-broad flight of stairs had been

squeezed and pushed together by the shifting mountain to

erupt into a tangle of broken stone choke. Nevian took the

brightest torch and bade the King wait while he picked a way

down. Bending left and right he stooped to push the stone

choke aside and gradually descended to the bottom of the

steps. He turned and held the torch aloft to examine the way.

'This must have been the path Krulshards used to enter

Elundium to take Elionbel prisoner,' he whispered, looking

down at the blackened footprints etched and burnt into the

broken stone. Moving the torch a little to the left he frowned,

seeing new marks on the stone, faint claw scrapings and tiny

splatters of drying blood. He drew a shallow breath and

touched the spots of blood, tasting the wet fingertip with his

tongue. 'Nightbeast blood!' he hissed, wrapping the rainbow

cloak tightly about his shoulders. Rising, he hurried into the

vaults, driving the shadows before him as the bright torchlight

found and entered every corner.

 

'Nevian,' a faint voice called urgently from the stair head,

 

58

 

1

 

'the King can hardly stand, his body is growing cold and

brittle.'

 

Nevian turned and quickly strode between the rows of

petrified Granite Kings, remembering each one he had taken

from the living rock to set against the Nightmare, Krulshards.

Old and weary they looked, battered and defiled by the

Night~nare's black hatred. Nevian smiled wearily, seeing all the

damage that Krulshards had wrought as he fled from the City of

blight through the tombs beneath the fortress of Underfall, yet

these stone Kings had stood proudly against the wear of time,

forever frozen in the dark, their brittle swords and spears raised

to strike a foe they could not defeat. Sighing, Nevian turned

towards the ruined stairway, blind to the dancing shadows his

torchlight threw behind him across the low rough-vaulted

ceiling as the frozen stone Kings seemed to jump and sway in

the moving light.

 

Nevian had found what he sought, the final resting place for

King Holbian: a finely carved stone throne set before all the

other tombs, etched with pure silver and surmounted by two

sculpted owls, their wings spread out to protect their King,

their talons open, ready to strike. It was the most beautiful

stone carving Nevian had ever seen and inscribed around the

base of the throne in flowing letters ran the words, This is the

seat for the greatest Granite King that ever walked in all

Elundium, for he tab knew his weakness and strove to

overcome it.

 

'Easy, my Lord,' whispered Breakmaster, gripping at the

rough stone wall for balance with his free hand as he helped

King Holbian down the steps. Thunderstone supported the

King's other arm while Errant carefully lifted each of his

armoured boots and placed them step by step on the slow

descent. Willow helped Nevian to clear a path through the

stone choke and Tombel and Thane went before them to light

the vaults with bright torches but Elionbel hesitated at the

brink of the stairway, afraid to enter darkness again.

 

59

 

a'Elionbel, where are you, Queen of Queens?' Holbian cried

out as Breakmaster and Thunderstone eased him into the seat

of the throne. 'Come to me, my child,' he called with his last

strength. Elionbel swallowed, trying to gather her courage as a

frail hand touched her sleeve, making her jump and spin round.

 

Angishand had followed in King Holbian's footsteps to the

very brink of the stairwell. She smiled in the flickering light and

took Elionbel's hand. 'Be not afraid,' she whispered. Bending,

she rummaged in the meagre bundle of possessions she had

brought with her on the flight from the Granite City and pulled

out a sparkling twist of thread. 'It will shine in the dark,' she

whispered, numbly weaving the thread between Elionbel's

fingers and turning her towards the steps.

 

'Come with me,' Elionbel asked, holding tightly on to Angis'

hand. 'Be with me in the dark.'

 

Angis smiled and descended the first step. 'I will be with you,

Elionbel, until your courage returns,' she whispered. Elion felt

safe beside Thane's mother and keeping pace with her she

entered the black vaults beneath the fortress of Underfall. She

shivered in the damp airless atmosphere and hurried to reach

the throne to kneel before King Holbian and put her hand into

his brittle fingers.

 

Holbian smiled and opened his eyes. 'So little time,' he

mumbled, looking at the throng of anxious faces that

surrounded him. Beckoning to Thane he called him forwards.

'As you shall rule so shall Elionbel be at your side, for she will

be the mother of Kings. Guard her well, Thanehand.'

 

Thane took Elion's hand and brought it to his lips. 'Our love

was strong enough to destroy Krulshards, my Lord, and it will

flourish tenfold in the sunshine.'

 

For a second, a shadow crossed Elionbel's face. Nevian

frowned, his sharp eyes seeing her pain. Something was out of

place. Turning his eyes inwards he searched the future and

caught a glimpse of the days to come, dark days when the sun

would hide beneath a web of shadowlights, a time of

 

60

 

i]

 

.

 

,~l

 

terror when the darkness showed as starkly as black winter

trees etched against the sun. Leaning forwards, he touched her

arm and searched her face but she blinked. The moment had

passed, his vision had faded and the shadow had gone.

 

'Lord,' Thane began, blind to what Nevian had seen, when a

loud clatter beyond the outer edge of the half-circle made him

pause, all heads turned. Willow Leaf, forgetful of where he

stood had wandered amongst the stone Kings, gazing in

wonder at the vaulted roof, marvelling at the skill of the mason

when he accidentally dropped his stone-searcher on to the

rubble-strewn floor.

 

King Holbian smiled. 'So this is the young man I have heard

whispers of. Come here, Willow Leaf, for that is the name

Nevian told me you carried.'

 

Willow, blushing and red-faced, took a step forwards,

stopped and pointed back at the blank wall he had been

standing against. 'Lord, you fear the blackness of this place

and yet I was born in the darkness of the City of Night and can

see much others would miss. There is a secret window, Lord,

rough-hewn into the face of this room, let me work a few

moments with my stone-searcher and you will have light here

beneath the ground.'

 

'Light?' the King asked, gripping the arms of the throne and

pulling himself forwards. 'Light, here in the tomb of the Palace

of Kings?'

 

'Yes, Lord,' answered Willow, quickly retrieving the

stonesearcher and using it as a lever on the hidden fault he had

seen in the wall. Deeper and deeper the sharp steel point sank

into the narrow crack. Willow twisted and turned the grey metal

 

shaft until suddenly the fine stone dust billowed up in a cold

draught of air. The wall had moved, the slabs of stone grated

against each other as they separated. Blood-red light flooded

in, paling the torchlight. Daylight was at an end, the dying sun

rested for a moment at World's End, saluting the last Granite

King. King Holbian could rest now.

 

61

 

aSquaring his shoulders, he called out as loudly as he could

so dial everyone "athered around him could hear, 'Share your

fears with the ones you love and never forget that I in all my

foolishness and pride strove to hide my fear of the dark and

almost lost tills beautiful land to the Nightmare, Krulshards.'

 

'Lord, do not leave us!' shouted a dozen voices as King

Holbian sank back wearily into the throne. Nevian felt the

King's cooling forehead and lifted his hands for quiet.

Breakmaster and Errant broke Trough the press and knelt at

the King's feet, tears of sorrow coursing down their cheeks.

 

'Greatest Captains,' Holbian whispered, 'promise me, promise

. . . that you will serve your new King as faithfully as you have

served me.'

 

Elionbel felt herself joshed aside, the King's words echoing

in her head as the press of warriors tried to touch the dying

King. She saw the truth in what he had said and knew that she

must tell him about her mother's bastard, Kruel, the

nightmare's child. 'I cannot hide it, Mother, no matter what

shame it brings upon us,' she whispered, slowly lifting her head

to stumble out the truth but at the moment she opened her

mouth a great shout of despair and sorrow filled the chamber,

drowning her voice.

 

'Lord! Lord!' she cried, forcing her way through the warriors

until only Breakmaster, Errant and Thunderstone were before

her, blocking her path. 'Hear me, Lord,' she cried, pulling at

Errant's shoulder, trying to force a passage. She squeezed past

him and fell awkwardly at the King's feet but it was too late, his

eyes had crystallised and his ears had become stone. His brittle

fingers were tightening onto the two stone Border Runners

carved on the armrests of the throne.

 

'Promise me . . .' grated the King's last stone whisper as

Breakmaster fell weeping beside Elionbel.

 

'Lord, to the letter it shall be as you bade me, I shall guard pi

the new King,' she answered between sobs.

 

62

 

or

 

/

 

I L

 

Strong hands pulled Elion to her feet and shook her. 'He

cannot hear you, he has turned to stone,' shouted Thane

against tile rising death chant.

 

Elion looked desperately from the stone King, past Nevian

whose rainbow cloak was fading in the moment of the King's

death, to Thane, but her lips were trembling, her resolve

weakening. She shook her head and tried to form the words to

tell him of the bastard. 'What?' he shouted, bending his head

against the noise.

 

Elion's gaze swept back across the press of warriors towards

the King and caught a glimpse of her father, Tombel, kneeling

beside Breakmaster. Quickly she swallowed her words; she

could not shame him, not before his King or the three great

captains. He had suffered so much losing Martbel and both her

brothers, Arbel and Rubel, to the Nightmare. In despair she

turned away, feeling trapped and alone widlin her secret.

 

Eventine and Kyot arrived breadlless at the doorway of the

vaults at the moment of the rising death chant. They looked

across and saw the despair on Elionbel's face, but try as they

might they could not force a passage Trough the warriors to

get to her.

 

Nevian stood in silence at King Holbian's side, feeling his

own magic melting out through his fingertips, watching the

rainbow cloak fade and lose its colours, knowing that with the

death of the last Granite King his time in Elundium was drawing

to an end. Thunderstone and Tombel wept unashamedly at the

King's feet while Errant and Breakmaster "athered their

courage and took the first step to fulfil their pledges. Rising,

they turned and unsheathed their swords and knelt before

Thane, offering up the polished hilts.

 

Thane just managed to touch both swords before he was

lifted and carried bodily out of the tomb, hoisted up on strong

Archers' shoulders. Beside him Elionbel was also carried aloft

and he reached across, taking her hand.

 

'You are my Queen!' he shouted as they were swept up

 

63

 

aand out of the gloomy vaults into the courtyard. 'The Queen

of all Elundium!' he called after her as her hand slipped out of

his, the moving crowds of warriors forcing them apart as they

poured out into the Causeway Road. 'We will meet by starlight

on the Causeway Field, beside the Nightmare's severed head.'

 

Elionbel waved her hand and she was gone, carried from

room to room through the great fortress of Underfall, the shout

for her Queenship going before her. Thane rode shoulder-high

on the backs of the Archers of Underfall down on to the

Causeway Field and bravely acknowledged the shouts of

Kingship that greeted him. As the evening wore on he was

carried far beyond his friends of Underfall and the archers of

Stumble Hill amongst other Marchers, Gallopers and Archers

who Tombel and Errant had gathered from the far comers of

Elundium to fomn the great battle crescents that had chased the

Nightbeasts far across Elundium. Here the shout for his

Kingship fell away, muffled to a whisper, for they knew nothing

of him but battle rumours telling of a boy born to Candlebane

Hall who rode upon a wild Warhorse. They had heard how

Battle Owls perched on his shoulders and savage Border

Runners ran at his heels. Magic was woven into his name and

they feared that this had forced their dying King to push him

forwards to take his place.

 

Thane sensed their anger and mistrust and quickly jumped to

the ground, stilling those who had carried him with a whisper,

telling them to retreat back into the fortress of Underfall.

 

'But these warriors mutter against you,' answered Tiethorm,

first Archer of Underfall, reaching back into his quiver for a

steel-tipped arrow.

 

'No!' hissed Thane, putting his hand on Tiethorm's arm. 'I will

not shed the blood of any man in Elundium. I pledged King

Holbian to shepherd all the people. Withdraw quietly, melt back

into the shadows and let me settle these black whispers.'

 

64

 

Tiethorm reluctantly slid the arrow back into the quiver and

took a step backwards but angry murmurs rose all around them

as the grim-faced warriors from the bathe crescents made to

follow. 'What now?' cried Tiethorm, raising his empty bow in a

gesture of defiance.

 

Thane put his hand on the Archer's bow-arm and stepped

between him and the advancing warriors. 'Fall back,' he

whispered to the men of Underfall, 'give me space to settle

their fears.'

 

Silendy Tiethorm retreated three paces and each Archer

knelt on his command, reaching back into his quiver, fingers

lightly touching the feathered flights of new-forged arrows.

'We are ready, Lord. If one hair upon your head is hurt we will

build a wall of dead warriors.'

 

'No!' laughed Thane, stretching out his empty hands and

walking towards the warriors of the bathe crescents. 'Only

fools and ignorant men would lift a hand against me on dus,

the night of Holbian's death, for he pledged all Elundium to

follow me and whoever loved him would never defy their King.'

 

The warriors shuffled to a halt, unsure of the half-starved

youth who stood before them. 'Unsure or not,' called a distant

Marcher Captain from amongst the dark mass of warriors, 'I

have not yet called you King and you are but a handful of

Archers against our bathe crescent. You are a long way from

the safety of the walls of Underfall. It would take only a

moment's killing and we could choose a King from our own.'

 

Thane laughed and shook his head looking beyond the

broad sweep of warriors that stood before him and pointed into

the darkness beneath the eaves of Mantern's Forest where a

thousand amber eyes looked on. 'We are not alone, warriors,

nor so easily silenced. Think twice before you act foolishly.'

 

'Border Runners!' cried a frightened voice.

 

'And Warhorses!' cried another.

 

65

 

The dark mass of warriors hesitated and drew together.

The ground trembled and shook to the thunder of hooves as

Equestrius and Esteron, sensing the danger Thane had

walked into, swept across the Causeway Field leading the

Warhorses and the Nighthorses of UnderfaO, surrounded by

packs of savage Border Runners. They silently filled the

ground behind Thane and his Archers. Thane stood quite

still and waited until the galloping horses had come to a halt

and snarling Border Runners had crouched on either side of

him before he spoke, addressing the tightly packed press of

warriors in a clear firm voice. 'Tonight I ask nodling of you

except that you keep the peace in honour of the greatest

Granite King, but tomorrow in the light of the new sun I will

stand before you again and then, with all Elundium watching,

you will make your choice of the new King of Elundium.'

 

Turning quickly and giving whispered Shanks to the Border

Runners and the Warhorses, Thane sprang lighdy onto

Esteron's back and led the Archers back acoss the Causeway

Field towards the sheer shadow-black walls of Underfall.

 

Darkness had long come, turning the night sky deep indigo

before Thane finally reached the place where he had pressed

King Holbian's sword point-deep into She turf. Dismounting

wearily, he called out Elionbel's name and waited beside the

nightmare's severed head until she came, "athering her cloak

against the chill night air from She nearest camp fire.

 

'Kingship will not be easy,' he whispered in a worried

voice, taking her in his arms and turning her so that they

looked out at the twinkling camp fires spread far across the

Causeway Field. 'There are many who doubt me,' he sighed,

watching She ribbons of dancing sparks rise up to mingle with

the stars, 'and tomorrow by She light of the new sun I must

gather all the courage I can find and stand before the people

of Elundium to let Hem choose me as their King.'

 

'There can be no other; the King chose you!' Elionbel

answered. 'How could you doubt?'

 

66

 

l

 

:

 

.

 

. ,

 

.

 

., .

 

~ i

.]L

 

Thane sighed and wearily shook his head. 'By tomorrow's

light you will see.'

 

'Well, I shad be beside you,' Elionbel said fiercely, 'for we

are love-matched and nodling will ever part us again.'

 

Thane smiled, feeling safe at last. He was tired of Kings

and Nightmares and just wanted to sleep here beneadl the

stars beside the one he loved. Sighing, he cast his ragged

cloak aside and drew her into She soft bed of rugs that had

been prepared for Hem, feeling She warmth of her body next

to his. He let his mind drift back across all that had happened

since they reached the Causeway Field. Frowning, he halfrose

suddenly and shook her arm. 'What troubled you as the

King died? What were you trying to tell me?'

 

Elionbel stirred at his touch, waking from a dream in which

her mother's anguished voice echoed, pleading with her to

hide her shame. 'What?' she asked, shaking the sleep out of

her eyes and sitting up next to Thane.

 

'You were trying to tell me something in the vaults,' he

replied.

 

Elionbel looked away, shivered in the cold night air and

shook her head. The moment of telling had passed, she could

not betray her mother's pledge, her courage had failed her.

 

'It was nodling,' she whispered, snuggling back under the

cloak, 'it was nodling but shadows in the light.'

 

67

 

Pledging the New King

 

The grey hours had streaked the sky with light. Dawn was

breaking across the Causeway Field and the first blackbird

waited beneath the eaves of Mantern's Forest to sing to the

new sun. Esteron lowered his head and nudged Thane's

shoulder; gently pushing him awake. Thane yawned,

stretched and sat up, shivering in the chill dawn winds and

reached for his cloak. He looked down at Elionbel and

smiled. Yesterlight had not been a dream, she was safe and

at his side. Turning, Thane saw the crown had turned to

stone during the night where it lay beside him in the wet

grass. He reached towards it and touched the jewels of

morning, sending the ice-cold beads of water skidding across

the polished granite surface.

 

'Who will call me King today?' he whispered, gazing out

across the countless forms of the sleeping warriors spread

around him on the Causeway Field. He remembered how

they had looked at him fearfully and remained tight-lipped

when the dying King had called out his name. He knew that

this crown of polished stone rubbed smooth with another's

hands was lithe with which to claim a kingdom.

 

Searching further across the Causeway Field Thane caught

his breath as his eyes picked out the Nlghtmare's severed

head spiked firmly on to the hilt of King Holbian's sword,

the tangle of matted dead locks streaming out like black

shadows in the morning breeze. 'That trophy would be claim

to any kingdom,' he whispered, rising to his feet. 'But in truth

 

68

 

He

 

.

 

.

:

. .

 

it belongs to King Holbian and I will claim nothing through

the Nightmare's head or King Holbian's sword or crown.

Come, Esteron, we must place the stone crown on the King's

head and put Krulshards' remains at his feet. Will you help

me?'

 

Esteron snorted and knelt for Thane to mount. Mulcade

hooted softly from somewhere above in the brightening sky

and stooped on to the crown, hooking his talons around the

polished rim. Spreading his wings he beat the air and helped

Thane to lift the heavy crown. Mounted, and with the crown

balanced in his lap, Thane smiled at the owl and then bent

low to take the Nightmare's head and the King's sword,

letting Esteron silently find them a way through She sleeping

warriors.

 

In the shadow of the great doors of Underfall he came

upon Stumble and Sprint grazing beside Tanglecrown and

waved them a greeting, calling soMy in case he woke Kyot or

Eventine who slept nearby in the centre of a large strike of

Archers.

 

Kyot stirred, woken by the clatter of hooves, and jumped

to his feet as Esteron passed between the great doors. He

snatched up the Bow of Orm and a quiver of steel-tipped

arrows and ran after him through the outer courtyards. 'You

cannot abandon me!' he cried breathlessly, his voice echoing

in the emptiness of the inner courtyard as he caught up with

Thane. 'We are as brothers, even if you are now a king!'

 

Thane turned awkwardly in the saddle at the sound of

Kyot's voice, doing his best to keep his balance on Esteron's

back as he descended between the piles of stone choke that

littered the steps leading down into She darkened vaults. 'We

shall always be as brothers, Kyot. Never, never Link that 1

would abandon you or put Kingship between us. I am setting

things right before the new sun rises and giving back the

crown of the last great Granite King to its rightful owner and

returning the trophy of darkness that I took for him from the

City of Night.'

 

69

 

'But the crown is yours!' exclaimed Kyot. 'I know the

legends say only Kings can walk in the darkness and I saw

King Holbian place the crown upon your head. And the

nightmare's severed head proves your right beyond any

argument. No man would dare to challenge you!'

 

Thane laughed, cutting short Kyot's rush of words. 'Legends,

dear friend, are not a claim. Fate helped me and armed

me to achieve what seemed impossible. Now come with me

and see a lithe why I cannot take as my own King Holbian's

crown or anything else that was his by right.'

 

'But he took your pledge,' answered Kyot. 'How could you

break your word so easily? Are you afraid of Kingship?'

 

Thane laughed again. 'Of all men in Elundium you should

know I would not break my pledge, especially to the King.

Now follow.' And he spurred Esteron forwards between the

rows of petrified Kings.

 

Kyot shook his head uncomprehendingly and leapt to the

-bottom of the steps in a dozen large strides, where he lit his

spark against the darkness. He hurried forwards halting only

when he stood before King Holbian's stone throne. Kneeling,

he kissed the King's cold granite knuckles then rose and

moved back a pace.

 

'Why do you only kneel before King Holbian?' asked

Thane, dismounting and lowering the crown on to the

ground. 'Surely you should kneel before all the Kings who

fill these vaults?'

 

Kyot frowned and turned to point at the shapes crowded

beneath the rough-vaulted roof. 'These are only statues. King

Holbian was real. He was my King, I knelt before him

yesterlight on the Causeway Field and called your name for

King when he commanded it. He will always be my . . .'

 

Thane nodded and finished Kyot's sentence for him. 'He

will always be your King. Do you see now how I cannot take

his place so simply?'

 

Turning away from the throne Thane walked to the

window Willow had opened in the sheer wall of Underfall

 

70

 

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and looked out at the sleeping warriors below. Beckoning to

Kyot he pointed across the still, dawn-dark Causeway Field.

'How many of them would do as you did if they came to these

vaults? Remember King Holbian was their King. Tell me

truthfully how many of them do you think will still shout my

name in the light of the new sun without King Holbian to

prompt them?'

 

'Lord,' cried Kyot kneeling beside die window, 'I meant

no disrespect. I shall be ever faithful. I . . .'

 

Thane smiled and put his finger to Kyot's lips, silencing

him, and pulled him to his feet. 'I do not doubt you.

Remember we are as brothers. But for the thousands gathered

on the Causeway Field it is a very different matter. To

them I am lithe more than a name, a ragged youth pulled up

by a dying King who saw too much in legends, jumped at

shadows and lived on rumours.'

 

'But the warriors of Underfall, and my strikes of Archers

from Stumble Hill, you have led them into bathe, they know

that you are Kingworthy.'

 

'Some will call my name, yes, but the guardians of

Underfall are forgotten warriors, condemned men sent in

chains to end their days defending the light here at World's

End, their voices would be lithe but a whisper against

yesterlight's shouts.'

 

'My Archers!' cried Kyot. 'They are proud men who love

you and would follow you anywhere. They will call for you to

be King.'

 

Thane took Kyot's hand and shook his head sadly. 'They

may shout for me, Kyot, but they see magic mixed with

everything I do. The Border Runners brought me to the

tower on Stumble Hill, the Warhorses and the battle Owls

flocked to my standard and even the picture of the sun I took

from my mother at the moment of our parting shines with a

strange light that many will fear.'

 

'But the Nightmare's head, surely that will setde any

 

71

 

argument?' insisted Kyot, looking down at the hideous trophy

where it rested against King Holbian's armoured boot.

 

'Now that he is dead there will be many who will say luck

and circumstance gave me the power to cut off Krulshards'

head. No? I will not have the people of Elundium call my

name with doubt in their hearts. I will go before them with

empty hands as the sun breaks free of World's End, then

they can truly choose.'

 

'But the crown is yours! Even if you leave the sword and

the nightmare's head here in the vaults, at least take the

crown.'

 

Thane smiled and shook his head. 'Everything will change,

Kyot, for we stand on the threshold of a new beginning.

Look, the rim of the sun has breasted World's End, the new

Elundium has begun.'

 

'Everything will change?' asked Kyot, the colour draining

from his face as he caught a glimpse of the daunting tasks

that stretched before Thane.

 

'Yes, and leaving the crown in the old Elundium is only

the first step,' answered Thane. 'I am trying to begin the new

Elundium properly as King Holbian would wish it.'

 

'You will have me beside you, you will not be alone,'

whispered Kyot.

 

Thane bent forwards, his hands upon the high rim of the

crown. 'To have such a friend as you - I need not fear the

future.'

 

'We will face it together,' laughed Kyot, reaching for the

other side of the crown. Mulcade and Rockspray hooted and

stooped from their shoulders, hooking their sharp talons on

the smooth, polished rim.

 

'Together we will give King Holbian all that is rightly his,'

cried Thane as they slowly lifted the heavy crown above the

King's head.

 

The new sun had broken free of the shadows and the first

shafts of sunlight were moving across the vault towards King

Holbian's throne. 'Now!' called Thane, letting the crown slip

 

72

 

from his fingers on to the King's head. It slid lopsided and

awkwardly across the flowing locks of stone hair before

grinding to a halt above his forehead. Thane bent and with

both hands brought the stone sword up across King Holbian's

thighs, pressing the hilt against his rigid hand. The sun,

moving through the first station of the day, now streamed in

all its glory on to the throne. Thane felt the hot rays on his

back and watched, spellbound, as the old King's hair softened,

the crown gently slipping into place.

 

'My Lord, I love you,' whispered Thane, tears streaming

down his face. The King's fingers slowly opened and let the

hilt of the sword slip into his hand. His leg moved, the

armoured boot lifted off the base of the throne and allowed

Thane to push the Nightmare's head beneath it. The shaft of

sunlight moved as the sun travelled on, the flowing locks of

hair stiffened beneath the crown, the fingers tightened on the

hilt of the sword and the boot crunched heavily into Krulshards'

head, trapping him forever in the age of the Granite

Kings.

 

Thane knew now that he had truly served his King and

smiled with relief as he stepped away from the throne. As he

turned towards the window a soft voice from far away seemed

to whisper from the last Granite King, 'Now all Elundium

shall be yours, Thanehand!'

 

Thane and Kyot quickly left the tombs and hurried out. They

stood for a moment between the great doors of Underfall and

looked out across the Causeway Field. Everywhere cooking

fires made the early morning air hazy. Gallopers cantered

easily through the dew wet grass calling the warriors and the

city folk into wakefulness but beyond the furthest dykes, hard

against the eaves of Mantern's Forest, the great batle

crescents that had doubted Thane's claim to Kingship were

 

forming grim, menacing lines that swept as far as the eye

could see. 'That is where my courage will be tested,' Thane

whispered, pointing out across the Causeway Field. 'There is

the shadow of mistrust that I must dispel to become a king.'

 

'Well, at least you will not be alone,' answered Kyot. 'Look,

Nevian is upon the Causeway Road, and with him is your

grandfather, Thoron, upon the great Warhorse Equestrius.

Elionbel and her father are with him and Errant and Breakmaster

follow a pace behind. Thunderstone and Eventine are walking

with them.' Kyot paused, shading his eyes against the early

sunlight before he laughed, pointing at a wide crescent of

Warhorses and Border Runners massing on the high pastures

above the pine forest on the shoulder of Mantern's Mountain.

 

Esteron snorted and pawed the ground, striking sparks

between the great doors. Thane smiled and ran his fingers

through the horse's mane. The Warhorses would not come to

him today, they were gathering beyond the Causeway Field to

watch him take the Kingship if he could. Sprint and Stumble

lifted their heads and neighed fiercely, cantering to Thane's

side as if knowing that he was about to face great danger.

'Easy, easy,' Thane whispered, reaching down and taking

Stumble's reins while Kyot put his foot into Sprint's stirrup and

jumped quickly on to his back, nocking a newforged arrow on

to his bow string.

 

Nevian arrived before them, a dozen frowns creasing his

forehead, and held up his hands in dismay. 'Black rumours are

everywhere and half-truths grow as thick as summer weeds.

Tell me, what has become of the first day of the new Elundium

and why are you waiting here, Thanehand? Why are you not

riding amongst your people, treading on gossip before it

begins? Where is your touch of Kingship or did I labour all

those suns to watch you let it idly slip away? And where is the

crown and the Nightmare's head? They would still any

rumours.'

 

Thane laughed and grasped the magician's hands. 'I have

used the wisdom you taught me and I have given them back to

King Holbian,' he answered. 'That was the first step of

 

Kingship, for they belong to the age of the Granite Kings. Now

I will ride out amongst the people and see who will have me for

their King.'

 

'Given back the crown and the head? Letting the people

choose? I have toiled for nothing!' cried Nevian, throwing his

hands up in despair. 'I thought you worthy of King Holbian's

crown.'

 

Thane held the magician's gnarled fingers and looked long

and searchingly into his eyes. 'If I am to rule Elundium, surely I

must be myself, a man made of flesh and blood.'

 

Nevian smiled as he held Thane's gaze and nodded slowly,

shaking out the folds of the rainbow cloak. 'You have grown,

Thane. There is wisdom in your words, Kingly wisdom.'

 

'Your cloak!' gasped Thane, holding up his wrist where the

fine rainbow threads still shone with bright colours. 'It looks

duller tHan the thread you used to mend my wrist.'

 

Nevian sighed and nodded. 'You are growing in strength to

rule Elundium, but my time was with the Granite Kings, my

magic seemed to melt away from my fingertips as King Holbian

died, draining the colour from the cloak.' Nevian paused,

frowning. 'Yet for some reason a little colour remains in the

folds but I know not how or for what purpose the power

remains.'

 

'Thane,' Kyot whispered urgently. 'The batle crescents that

would not shout your name are creeping towards us across

the Causeway Field.'

 

Thane looked up and fear passed as a shadow across his

eyes; his hands tightened on Nevian's arm. 'Come with me,' he

urged. 'Be with me as they test my courage.'

 

Nevian smiled, then laughed, and turned towards the

Causeway Field. 'Lead on, great King, and we shall follow.'

 

Thane clung to Nevian's hand for a moment longer, bringing

the gnarled, almost bird-like fingers to his lips. 'I will not fail

 

you, Lord,' he cried before leading Stumble to stand before

Elionbel. Stumble snorted and arched his neck as Elionbel took

the reins. 'Treat him well,' Thane whispered,

'for there is greatness beneath this horse's common coat. He

is as swift as a Warhorse and as tireless as a Border Runner

with a heart full of courage that will keep you safe wherever

you ride. Elionbel, Queen of Elundium, I give you Stumble

the orphaned relay horse from Stumble Hill and no better

gift could any Queen wish for.'

 

Stumble neighed and struck sparks on the cobblestones

with his worn shoes, then stood perfectly still for Elionbel to

mount. She thanked Thane, her love shining brighter than

the sun between them. Eventine laughed and sprang lightly

on to Tanglecrown's back. She rode the Lord of Stags to

Elionbel saying, 'Now we shall be sisters, Elionbel, for we are

both mounted on the finest steeds that ever galloped across

Elundium.'

 

Thoron had stood a little apart, his hand on Equestrius'

bridle, a deep frown of concern on his ancient face as he

watched the battle crescents forming. 'They were tattoopledged

to serve only King Holbian, that is why they cannot

take Thane as their King,' he said at length, reaching up to

caress Eagle Owl's talons as they pressed into the thick weave

of his cloak where it hung from his shoulder.

 

'What?' exclaimed Nevian, spinning round at the sound of

Thoron's voice.

 

Thoron smiled and bared his arm. 'Your mark bound us

all to King Holbian. Look, it has not faded or dimmed with

his passing but still burns as brightly as the day you traced it

upon my arm.'

 

'My magic!' cried Nevian throwing up his hands in despair.

'That is where the rumours and black whispers begin

amongst the ones I pledged to guard King Holbian after the

bondbreaking.'

 

'Strong magic, my Lord,' answered Tombel. 'It bound the

bearers of the tattoo mark across the length and breadth of

Elundium to love their King. Without it we would have lost

faith and fallen into shadows long ago.'

 

Nevian laughed harshly and paced backwards and forwards

 

between the great doors. 'I cannot undo magic. What I have

created must remain, I am not strong enough now that the

Nightmare is dead.'

 

'Yet we love Thanehand,' cried Thunderstone. 'Why have

we not turned against his claim to the Kingship?'

 

Nevian frowned and stared at Thane. 'Why indeed?' he

whispered, shaking out the folds of his faded rainbow cloak.

Mulcade hooted and spread his wings, making as if to stoop

from Thane's shoulder.

 

'Perhaps,' called Eventine, 'perhaps we love him because

we know him. Because we have seen the makings of his claim

to the Kingship.'

 

Thunderstone nodded slowly. 'Yes. Time and again he

rallied men's hearts and taught them to walk proudly in the

half light of World's End. I loved King Holbian, yet I will

gladly offer the hilt of the horsetail sword to Thane.'

 

Thane smiled and took the sword hilt. 'Rise, Thunderstone,

Keeper of Underfall, and last Lampmaster of the

Granite Kings, rise and be a part of the new Elundium that

begins today.'

 

Tombel knelt beside Thunderstone and offered up the hilt

of his broad Marching sword saying, 'I have seen you grow

from humble Candleman into a great warrior who ran alone

across all Elundium to rescue my fair Elionbel. You are more

than Kingworthy, my Lord.'

 

Thane put his hands on Tombel's shoulders and pulled

him to his feet. 'You were my teacher and drew out of me the

best I have to offer. Be with me now, greatest Marcher

Captain, be with me in this, my most testing hour.'

 

Errant and Breakmaster slowly knelt and began unsheathing

their swords but Thane stopped them, a hand on each

of their arms. 'Help me as you did King Holbian, freely and

without a pledge, for I would not take your love for him, not

until the time for mourning is past.'

 

Breakmaster rose with tears in his eyes and gripped

Thane's hand. 'The birth of the greatness was there, Lord,

on that first night when we met in the shadows of the Granite

City as you fled from the Chancellors.'

 

Thane smiled and turned Breakmaster towards the

advancing crescent. 'You would be the greatest horseman in all

Elundium if you could hide me now from those whose hearts

are yet against me.'

 

'We led those battle crescents,' Tombel and Errant cried. 'Let

us speak to them and brighten their hearts towards you.'

 

'No!' answered Thane firmly. 'Each man and woman must

make their own choice, but you may gladly stand beside me,

showing who you would have for King.'

 

'What of the city folk, my Lord?' asked Grey Goose. He had

stood on the edge of the debate watching the people of the

Granite City move this way and that as the rumours of Thane's

right to be King spread across the Causeway Field.

 

'Go before me, Archer,' Thane urged, 'and tell them they will

be free to choose. No man will raise a hand against them, the

warriors of Underfall and the Archers of Stumble Hill will see to

that. Now let us ride down on to the Causeway Field and see

who will have me for their King.'

 

Shout after shout echoed against the walls of Underfall.

Swordblades clashed on to shields and a forest of spearshafts

trembled the ground as the warriors of Underfall and the

Archers of Stumble Hill proclaimed Thane King, and each

warrior knelt and touched Thane's hand to pledge their loyalty

to him. Nevian moved to Thane's side and urged him to stay

close to those who had been faithful. 'You will be safer,' he

counselled. 'The centre of the battle crescents who are against

you is less than half a league from us.'

 

Thane looked up across the heads of the warriors waiting to

touch his hand and saw the dark, threatening lines of the

crescents drawing closer. Heads turned and followed his gaze

and an uneasy silence spread from those around him in

receding ripples as far as the walls of Underfall. City folk and

warriors alike edged backwards leaving the trampled turf bare

and empty between Thane and the grim faces. Thane

laughed, snatched up his standard of the sun and spurred

Esteron into the clear ground before the battle crescent. The

warriors stood, unsure and sullen, in brooding silence. Nevian

called to Thoron, Errant and Tombel to follow him and hurried

after Thane, the faded rainbow cloak billowing out in the

afternoon breeze.

 

Kyot spurred Sprint on to the clear ground and tightened the

new-forged arrow he had already nocked onto his bow.

Tanglecrown crouched then sprang high above the mass of

warriors, his crystal-tipped antlers catching the sunlight.

Eventine laughed as they landed beside Kyot and she nocked

an arrow onto her own bow. 'We are spine-matched, my loved

one, and ready to die for our King,' she whispered proudly.

 

Elionbel collected Stumble's reins and rode him forward

across the bare turf to stand beside Thane. 'I love you,' she

whispered quickly and touched his hand.

 

Mulcade and Rockspray stooped from a clear sun-bright sky

on to Thane's shoulders and spread their wings ready to

attack. Two savage Border Runners broke cover from beneath

the eaves of Mantern's Forest and ran snarling and growling to

crouch, one on either side of Esteron; their yellow fangs bared

against the silent warriors.

 

'Now you must choose your King!' Thane cried in a loud

voice, lifting the summer scarf in a sweeping arc above his

head.

 

'Choose now!' cried Nevian. 'Choose as King Holbian

pledged you and remember my tattoo mark bound you only to

serve the last Granite King. The one who takes his place does

not test your love for King Holbian.'

 

Dark murmurs whispered along the sweep of the crescent

and here and there a warrior stepped forward hesitantly and

knelt before Thane to offer up his sword or his spear.

 

'Come forward!' shouted Thoron, pirouetting Equestrius and

cantering the length of the battle crescent, baring his arm to

show his tattoo mark of the owl in blue and gold. 'I too

carry Nevian's mark and loved King Holbian, but he is dead

and turned to brittle stone. Choose as I did and honour your

dead King's wishes.'

 

Tombel strode forwards and stood before the hesitating

warriors, his two great Marching swords turned hilt towards

them. 'I also carry the tattoo mark and loved my King enough to

lay my life at his feet. Two Marcher sons and a loving wife are a

high price to win the daylight and yet I will honour King

Holbian's choice: I take Thanehand as my new King and will

serve him all my days.'

 

'We loved our King!' shouted a man called Ustant from the

battle crescent. 'And we marched for him and many of us died

beneath the Nightbeasts' shadows to win this sunlight. We

drove the shadows back without the help of Warhorses and

savage Border Runners; we found our way, fumbling through

the darkness without the sharp-eyed owls to guide us, only to

arrive too late upon the Causeway Field and discover a ragged

youth has thrust himself forward to take the King's place!

 

'Magic must have forced the King to choose Thanehand!'

Ustant continued, urging the other warriors to stand firm with

him. 'King Holbian lived on signs and legends, he was always

looking for the one who would follow him.'

 

'We want a King free from legends and magic,' shouted the

warrior standing next to Ustant in the front rank. 'We want

someone we can trust, someone who doesn't meddle in magic

or has owls on his shoulders, someone who does not ride a

fierce Warhorse nobody else dare touch. We want someone

who doesn't have savage dogs running at his heels.'

 

'Magic!' thundered Nevian, throwing back the flowing folds

of his rainbow cloak. 'Magic has kept you safe through the

darkest suns of King Holbian's reign! How dare you shout

against magic!'

 

Thane frowned and touched Nevian's arm, whispering to

him, 'There is more than a tattoo mark and the love of an aged

stone King. These warriors fear the very fabric of what

has kept them safe and that fear has blackened their hearts and

made them blind. Let me go to them and show them I have no

magic.'

 

Nevian shook his head sadly. 'It is too dangerous,' he

answered. But Thane dismounted. 'They will not believe you,

their blindness is too complete.'

 

Thane smiled and stepped forwards, deaf to Nevian's voice.

The two Border Runners kept pace with him, pressed one

against each leg. 'Warriors, I come to you unarmed and without

one word of magic to take your pledges. It was only Fate that

guided me and pulled each thread leading to the nightmare's

death.'

 

'If that is the truth,' cried Ustant, interrupting Thane, 'send

those Battle Owls up from your shoulders, break your pact

with the Warhorses and despatch those Border Runners that

crouch beside you. Then, perhaps, we may choose you as our

King.'

 

'No!' shouted Thane, seeing a little of Nevian's anger and

feeling his own begin to rise as he faced so much blind

ignorance. 'I will not send my friends away nor will I break faith

with those that kept Elundium safe, for they came without

asking and they did not count the cost as they fought to rid

Elundium of Krulshards. They have the right to share this

sunlight without suspicion or fear casting a shadow where

they tread.'

 

Black whispers ran the length of the battle crescent and it

wavered, rippling with doubt. 'But we dare not touch the

Warhorses or the Border Runners,' cried a voice. 'And the

Battle Owls are savage birds of war with razor-sharp talons that

could rip out our eyes if we went near them.'

 

Nevian laughed and strode forwards. 'The bonds were broken

an age ago because King Holbian raised his sword in anger

against me but now he is dead and the bonds are renewed

again. Surely you saw Equestrius, the Lord of Horses, kneel

before the King moments before we passed

into the fortress of Underfall? Surely you saw Eagle Owl

stoop on to his aged shoulder? Come and touch Esteron or

Equestrius, or place your hands on the owls' talons, find the

truth in my words.'

 

'Come forward!' urged Thane, running his fingers through

the soft sable coats of the Border Runners that sat beside

him. 'Come forward without your fears and touch the two

dogs that helped Kyot find me in the grasslands. Come, and

be a part of the new Elundium.'

 

But the battle crescent remained still, watching the high

meadows where the Warhorses began to move.

 

'Come forward!' cried Nevian, using the rainbow cloak as

a bright banner and driving it into the centre of the crescent.

'Now is the moment. Or remain forever chained by your

blind fear, in the last daylight of the Granite Kings. Come

forward or stand forever frozen, watching beside the Greenways'

edge until you have lost your fear and can clearly see

and share all the beauty of Elundium. Pledge yourselves now

to Thanehand or wait beside the Greenways' edge until he

summons you one by one to serve him! For he is the rightful

King of all Elundium, chosen by the last Granite King.'

 

The crescent swayed and trembled, twisting backwards

and forwards, breaking into a thousand pieces. The warriors

were milling in confusion, some touched the Border Runners

and knelt to kiss Thane's hand and called him King, but the

greater mass would not come near Esteron or the unblinking

owls. They could not overcome their fear and retreated,

running away beneath the shadows of the eaves of Mantern's

Forest. Halting, they turned, drawn together by Ustant, and

lowered their spears cursing magic and the name of Thanehand.

Kyot spurred Sprint forwards, putting himself between

them and Thane, calling to his archers to come and defend

their new King.

 

'THANEHAND!' rose a deafening shout as the warriors

of Underfall, Stumble Hill and all those who had spoken

their pledge surged forwards after them but Nevian ran

quickly to Kyot's side and put a hand on his bow string,

easing the arrow towards the ground.

 

'There will be no bloodshed,' he cried, halting the surge of

warriors with one sweep of the rainbow cloak, bidding them

to lower their forest of spearblades. Beyond the broad sweep

of warriors hoofbeats thundered across the Causeway Field.

The Warhorses had descended through steep pine forests to

fan out in a fast-moving crescent on the Causeway Field;

Border Runners crowded amongst them, growling and snarling,

the light of battle in their eyes.

 

Striding into the path of the galloping horses, Nevian

raised his arms and commanded them to be still. 'They are

cursed enough. Let them vanish forever from our sight.'

 

Turning, Nevian looked into the shadows beneath Mantern's

eaves and called out, 'This is your last chance, pledgetakers.

Come and kneel before your King or be cursed always

to stand, summer and winter, beside the Greenways' edge.'

 

'We spit on your magic curses"' snarled Ustant from the

shadows of the forest. 'Your rainbow cloak has faded and

with it your powers, Master of Magic. It is not you who holds

our fear but Thanehand and the Warhorses. We will retreat

and choose a King of our own, and wait our chance to take

all Elundium from the throne-stealer.'

 

Behind Nevian the Warhorses roared a challenge and

surged forward. The sky darkened beneath the beating wings

of the grey swans of doom. Kyot's Archers bent their bows

and the spearmen stretched to throw but the undergrowth

shook and rustled and the shadows were suddenly empty, the

pledge-breakers had fled, vanishing between the close-tangled

trees.

 

Nevian sighed and let his hands fall to his side. Turning,

he walked slowly to where Thane stood. 'They were beyond

 

my help. Their hearts were darkened with fear, but they

cannot harm you or the beginnings of the new Elundium. I

have spun a magic spell that will hold them upon the

Greenways' edge,' he said quietly.

Thane frowned. 'But you said your magic had faded with

the passing of King Holbian. Surely they will gather beyond

our sight and choose a King of their own?'

 

Nevian laughed, the colours of the rainbow cloak dissolving

in the late afternoon sunlight. 'Keep faith, my King, and watch

the Greenways' edge and see who waits to serve you if

troubled daylights darken the sun . . .'

 

'Nevian!' Thane shouted, reaching out to touch the

vanishing cloak, but the shadow of the grey swans of doom

passed slowly overhead and made him look up. He waved to

Ogion, Lord of Swans, and smiled to see his Queen, Ousious,

alone, white and beautiful in the sunlight. 'Choose a place,' he

shouted, forgetting the magician for a moment. 'Any stretch of

water in all Elundium and it shall be yours to name as the new

Swanwater. It is given by the new King in payment for showing

the Nightmare's path.'

 

 

:. ,

Kruel Vanishes

 

Kerzolde forced a passage through the fast-flowing water,

hooking his one good claw into the low moss-covered rocks

that filled the darkness just above his head. 'Curse Thanehand,

the Galloperspawn!' he muttered again and again, trying to

keep his chin above the black waters threatening to suck him

under.

 

Kruel had climbed out of the battle jerkin up on to his

shoulders and rode high above the raging waters laughing and

pulling roughly at Kerzolde's ears, his tiny curved toes

splashing with delight. Somewhere ahead the culvert bent

sharply, muffling Kerhunge's warning shouts. Kerzolde slowed.

The roof of the culvert had become smooth; there was nowhere

to take a clawhold; the floor dipped and sloped steeply away.

He slipped, his clawed feet skidding on smooth boulders; the

current caught him, twisting him away from the wall. Kruel's

laughter turned into a scream of panic, his legs tightening

around Kerzolde's throat, his sharp nails gouging into the

Nightbeast's bristly cheeks as they sank beneath the water.

 

'Kerhunge!' Kerzolde screamed as the water flooded into his

mouth and rose, bubbling, over his head.

 

Kerhunge heard the baby's scream and ran back along a

 

narrow ledge he had found just before the culvert disappeared

into a steep weir. He had shouted a warning to Kerzolde and

hurried on to explore a narrow crack that opened towards

distant daylight. 'Kerzolde!' he snarled, kneeling on the ledge

 

85

 

and searching, stretching down into the black fast-moving

waters, sweeping his curved skinning hook backwards and

forwards across the wide channel until he felt it catch and tug

at Kemolde's iron collar. Leaning back he pulled with both

hairy hands on the handle of the hook, and bit by bit he

hauled his brotherbeast out of the boiling waters on to the

narrow ledge.

 

'Fool of a beast!' he snapped, holding the baby upside

down to shake the water out of it. 'I shouted back a warning

to tell you of the weir and how to climb out on to the ledge.'

 

Kerzolde coughed and spat out mouthfuls of water. He

knelt on all fours and shook the water out of his scaly armour.

Kruel,' he gasped with his first breath. 'Where is the baby?'

 

Kerhunge quickly brought the wet bundle to his face,

rubbed his cheek lovingly against it and thrust it back into

Kerzolde's claws. 'Master would strip back your armoured

hide and expose your raw flesh to the sunlight for being so

careless,' he snarled, dribbling bright spittle over the baby's

head.

 

Grunting with relief, Kerzolde took Kruel back and slipped

him inside his wet jerkin then fumed towards the distant hint

of daylight that shone through the jumble of rocks. 'Lead us

forwards,' he muttered, pushing the baby deep into tile folds

of his jerkin, well out of harm's way. Frowning, he touched

die baby again, prodding it gendy, measuring it with both

claws, feeling how much Kruel had grown since Heir escape

from the City of Night. 'He has grown so quickly,' he

whispered, knowing he would soon be big enough to walk.

 

'Quickly!' hissed Kerhunge from a place beside the narrow

opening. Tuming his hideous head he beckoned Kerzolde to

tile daylight crack. 'Look,' he hissed as his brotherbeast

setded beside him. He was pointing across the barren

boulder-strewn slope that spread below them to where a

Marcher lay bound and chained in the centre of a circle of

Nightbeasts. Tilting his head, Kerhunge listened to the

shouts and curses that rose up from the struggling man.

 

86

 

.

 

Kerzolde watched for a moment, scratched his chin and

spat at the ground. 'Those beasts are dead,' he whispered.

'All dead and trapped by their armour into the moment our

Master died.'

 

'Dead? All dead?'

 

Kerzolde nodded slowly. 'Watch chose black carrion crows

that have just strutted into the circle.'

 

Kerhunge bent forwards and watched the biggest crow. It

had reached the Marcher and stretched out its neck to peck

at his legs. The man shouted and lashed out, sending the

crow flapping lazily out of his reach. Turning its bright cruel

eyes towards the Nightbeasts it searched their bulky shapes

before spreading its wings and in a single bound alighted on

a scaly Nightbeast shoulder. Cawing shrilly it sensed the

putrid stench of death and pecked at the bristly face, loosening

and plucking out a rotten eye. Noisily the rest of the flock

of crows rose up in a cloud of black flapping wings and

settled on the Nightbeasts, prodding and searching between

their armoured hides, tearing out thin strips of rotting meat.

As they settled to their feast, snapping and fighting over the

tastiest morsels, one by one beneath the weight of the fighting

crows the rotten corpses toppled and crashed to the ground.

 

Arbel the Marcher twisted in his chains and watched the

crows feasting in horror. He only just managed to wriggle

aside as the nearest Nightbeast fell beside him, scattering

across the ground its grizzly trophies of half-chewed hands

and skulls that had hung from its belt; a curved scythe and a

rush dagger fell less than a hand's span from his bound

wrists. He twisted on to his back and drew up his knees to

his chest and, with a shout of effort, he kicked out. He rolled

over in a scatter of loose stones and his hand closed on the

cold rush blade of the dagger. Gasping for breath he turned

his head and with his eyes narrowing he saw a Nightbeast

descending from a dark crack in the rocks above. He knew

 

the one-eyed beasts. He knew that hideous face belonged to

the Nightbeast who had helped Krulshards steal his sister,

 

87

 

aElionbel and feasted on the servers' bodies at Woodsedge.

With Kerzolde almost upon him, Arbel ground his teeth in

helpless rage, gripped his dagger and tried to rise to his feet.

 

Kerzolde raised his own dagger high above his head and

made a strike but Arbel was too quick for him, throwing himself

sideways moments before the blade crashed harmlessly to the

ground where he had been kneeling. Kerzolde screamed with

rage and lifted the blade to strike again. Arbel watched hirn, his

eyes narrowing into glittering slits. 'The darkness!' he cried,

kicking furiously to get away from the nightbeast. 'I want to

serve the darkness!'

 

Kerzolde hesitated. Never before in all his master's dark

stories had a Marcher, Archer or Galloper loved the darkness.

Kruel stirred within his jerkin and cried out. 'The darkness!'

Arbel repeated, snatching desperately at the nightbeast's

hesitation and staring at the moving bulge in Kerzolde's jerkin

as he tried to get back on to his knees. 'Ever since your master's

nightmesh entangled my feet on the lawns of Gildersleeves I

have dreamt of the darkness.'

 

Kerzolde slowly lowered the blade. He did remember the two

Marchers they had tried to catch and kill on the lawn of

Gildersleeves but, kneeling beside Arbel, he pressed the blade

roughly into the angle of his jaw. 'Why should I believe you,

Marcher?' he hissed, drawing a bead of trickling blood on to the

dirty blade. 'Why?'

 

Arbel choked against the rusty metal point. 'I stopped my

brother, Rubel, following you. I stabbed him in the ruins of

Woodsedge. I was following your master, not chasing him

when these Nightbeasts captured me. They thought I was

Thanehand and were bringing me to your master.'

 

Kerzolde sank back on his haunches and summoned

Kerhunge from the daylight crack where he had been keeping

watch. 'He wants to serve the darkness,' sneered Kerzolde. 'He

wants to serve our master.'

 

Kerhunge laughed and eased a long black blade from his

belt. 'Let the new Master choose. Bring out Kruel.'

 

88

 

'No!' snarled Kerzolde stepping backwards hastily and

pressing his one good claw protectively across the opening of

his jerkin.

 

'He must choose. He is our new master,' insisted Kerhunge

in a hushed whisper. 'One scream or teardrop from the baby

and we will kill the Marcher, but if he laughs or touches the

Marcher we will let him live.'

 

Kerzolde thought for a moment, burying his head low

between his shoulders. There was sense in Kerhunge's words.

So far, each time they had shown the baby warriors, Gallopers

or Marchers, he had screamed with rage, making the ground

tremble. Yes, he would choose, then they could kill the

Marcher at their leisure.

 

Lifting the baby carefully through the opening in his jerkin

Kerzolde shook him awake and held him up. 'This is the

darkness, this is the new Master of all Elundium,' he snarled,

thrusting him into Arbel's face.

 

Arbel stared, open-mouthed, his hands tingling, the hairs on

the nape of his neck rising and falling in gentle waves. He was

so close to the pure blackness of night he could almost taste it.

Sighing, he stretched his neck to touch the baby. Kruel awoke

and stared back with unblinking blue eyes. Gurgling he clapped

his tiny hands together and touched Arbel, scratching his

sharp nails across his neck. Kerzolde hissed and jumped

backwards, snatching the baby away from the Marcher. He had

felt the baby change at the touch, swelling in his claws,

growing stronger through the contact with Arbel.

 

Kerhunge snarled and leapt at the Marcher's throat. 'No!

No!' cried Kerzolde pushing his brotherbeast roughly aside.

'Only Kruel has the power of life and death. You cannot kill the

Marcher yet.'

 

Pulling hard on Kerhunge's armoured sleeve Kerzolde drew

him away from the Marcher and secretly pointed at the baby.

 

'Look at the likeness between them,' he whispered.

'That is why I hesitate to kill. There is a bond between them. I

can smell it.'

 

'The Marcherwoman!' Kerhunge hissed. 'Did she spawn

them both?'

 

'Perhaps.' Kerzolde shrugged his shoulders, setting his

armoured hide rattling. 'Perhaps, but until we know for sure we

must keep him alive.'

 

'Show me the darkness again. Show me the baby,' shouted

Arbel, trying to move nearer and rattling the chains that bound

his wrists, making both Nightbeasts turn towards him.

 

'Here,' hissed Kerzolde, holding up the baby. 'How would

you, a Marcher, serve Kruel? Where would your place be in

his new darkness that will smother all Elundium?'

 

Together the two Nightbeasts closed on Arbel and squatted

down just beyond his reach, staring at him in brooding silence.

Krulshards would have let them kill him but now they had to

wait and watch his every movement until Kruel gave them a

sign. Kruel wriggled free of Kerzolde's claws and sat on the

ground between them tearing absently at the strips of rotten

flesh hanging from Kerzolde's belt.

 

Arbel stared at the baby seeing what he thought were

glimpses of his mother, or his sister, Elionbel. Shaking his head,

he shivered. 'It cannot be possible,' he whispered, shutting his

mind to the horror of what might have happened. Kruel had let

the strips of meat fall forgotten to the ground; now he was

staring, unblinking, into Arbel's eyes, searching and probing

with a look sharper than a carrion crow's beak. Arbel gasped for

breath, the surface images were gone, now he could see deep

within those pale unblinking eyes, down, down into the

bottomless blackness he yearned to serve and he saw that it

was more powerful than the darkest night. He shivered with

delight, wetting his lips with a greedy tongue as he struggled

to rise.

 

'Come to me,' whispered a voice that echoed in his head.

'Come with me into the darkness and be a part of me.'

 

The chains seemed to slip together, link grating on link

 

90

 

allowing him to rise clumsily to his feet and stagger forwards.

The baby was summoning him, drawing him with a will far

stronger than his own.

 

Kerzolde watched Arbel get up and made to draw his blade

to defend the baby but Kruel turned his pale eyes on the

Nightbeast and stilled him. Gurgling, Kruel rose unsteadily to

his feet, clapped his hands and tripped forwards on to his

knees. Laughing, he crawled towards the Marcher.

 

Kerhunge snarled and sprang forwards, his hairy hands

stretched out to snatch the baby away from Arbel but Kruel

cried out, splitting pebbles with his voice and freezing

Kerhunge mid-stride. Laughing and dribbling, he turned back

and beckoned Arbel, pulling at the hem of his cloak until he

toppled him down amongst the broken stones at his side.

 

'Master, Master,' Kerzolde whispered in terror as the baby

prodded Arbel's face, pulling open his bottom lip and exploring

his mouth, pushing his tiny slender fingers into the soft flesh

of the Marcher's cheeks. Arbel choked and cried out as the

baby forced his tongue far back into his throat. Smiling, Kruel

bit savagely at the tip of his nose and then licked at the fine

beads of blood oozing from the needle-sharp teeth marks. Kruel

spat out the blood, growled with anger at the taste and pulled

at the chains that bound Arbel's wrists. Then, giggling quietly

the infant climbed upwards and sat astride Arbel's chest and

closed his slender fingers around a single link of the chains. He

sat quite still and squeezed the Nightbeast chain until the metal

softened and became as wet as clay, dissolving at his touch.

 

'Stronger than his father, the Nightmare!' whispered

Kerzolde watching in awe as Kruel destroyed each link of the

chain. He played with Arbel's leg chains, absorbed by the

patterns they made in the dust, before melting them into black,

misshapen lumps of metal

 

Arbel rubbed life back into his blackened wrists and

massaged his numb ankles before lifting up the baby. 'I will

 

91

 

alove you as a brodler,'he whispered, kissing Kruel's forehead,

'but I will serve you as the greatest power of darkness in all

Elundium. So great and so powerful are you that you can defy

the sunlight and stand without casting a shadow!'

 

Arbel looked at the Nightbeasts and laughed, his lips curling

back in hatred as he reached for a discarded spearshaft and

slowly stood up. 'Now I hold power,' he sneered, tucking the

baby into the crook of his arm and lowering the blade of the

spear to touch Kerzolde's throat just above his iron collar.

 

'N-n-n-no!' cried the baby, wriggling frantically until his

hands were on the shaft of the spear. The shaft grew hot and

smelt of burning wood; the metal tip glowed and hissed where

it touched Kerzolde's bristly hide.

 

'N-n-n-n-no!' shouted Kruel and the shaft burst into flames,

dying into a Thousand charcoal cinders that fell, crumbling, to

the ground.

 

Arbel stepped back, blowing on his blistered fingers and

quickly put the baby on the ground. Kruel looked up

unblinking into Arbel's eyes. Laughing, he waved his hands.

He drew the Marcher down to sit beside him and turned his

head then summoned Kerzolde and Kerhunge, stretching out

his tiny fingers to take their claws and hands.

 

'We are to be friends. Kruel commands it,' whispered

Kerzolde, staring hatefully at the Marcher.

 

Arbel nodded and stared back without blinking, taking the

baby's other hand. 'We are to serve Kruel together and keep

him safe until he is strong enough to take all Elundium as his

own.'

 

Kerhunge shrugged his shoulders and spat at the ground,

hitting a poisonous weed worm as he nodded reluctantly.

Being friends with a Marcher was beyond his understanding

but he would wait: Kruel would change his mind and then he

could kill the Marcher. Kruel saw the worm and cried out for it.

Kerzolde reached down and hooked up the vicious, bright

 

92

 

yellow, scaly weed worm and made to crush it with his one

good claw to render it harmless for the infant to play with.

 

'NOT screamed Kruel, reaching out for the bright orange

stiny. Nor he cried again touching the worm. Once, twice the

worm arched its back, twisting to strike, thrashing the needle

sting at the baby's fingers, but gradually it grew still in his

hands, the yellow colour deepening through shades of ochre

into indigo until its scales hardened into brittle armour and

shone blacker than the night, its sting turning dark violet and

retreating into the poison sac, dripping with lethal venom.

Gurgling with delight, Kruel placed the weed worm on

Kerzolde's arm and watched it slowly climb between his

armoured scales up towards his neck. Kruel clambered after it,

laughing, and plucked it back, putting it on Arbel's arm.

 

'Errn, errn,' he chanted, prodding its shining black scales and

making it arch its back and stab the needle sting towards

Arbel's bare skin. Arbel sweated, his muscles tensing into

knots. 'Erm, erm,' Arbel repeated, forcing himself to remain

steady as the weed worm slowly crawled towards the darkness

in the folds of his cloak. Kruel turned his head, the worm

forgotten, and stared at the black carrion crows feasting on the

Nightbeasts' carcasses.

 

Tilting his head he listened to them and watched their cruel

sharp beaks tear at the rotten flesh. 'saw, caw,' he called, shrilly

imitating their voices and the biggest crow tore away a long

sliver of flesh then alighted on his shoulder to press the dead

flesh into Kruel's mouth.

 

Kerzolde laughed as he watched the baby chew on the meat.

'Armoured worms with deadly stings hidden in our pockets

and black crows to set against the Battle Owls, what next will

the Master's seed find to help him take Elundium as his own?'

 

'Everything he touches reflects the darkness,' whispered

Arbel, carefully pushing Kruel into the opening at the top of

Kerzolde's battle jerkin. The crow squawked and bit at

 

93

 

Kerzolde's claw before it settled on the Nightbeast's

shoulder.

 

Arbel carefully shook Erm out of the dark folds of his cloak

and grimly picked up the armoured worm. 'Kruel will want

Erm close to him,' he laughed, slipping the worm inside

Kerzolde's jerkin.

 

Kerzolde snarled and shuddered, waiting for the needle

sting to strike and he cursed Arbel, but all he felt were Erm's

tiny claws scuttling across his chest towards the place where

Kruel had setded to sleep.

 

'We must find the Shadowlands you whispered of in the

City of Night,' Kerhunge hissed. 'You said they were somewhere

we would be safe from the sharp-eyed owls and foul

warriors.'

 

Kerzolde nodded, turned and searched the dark horizon.

'They are out there!' he said, pointing with a sweep of his

one good claw. 'Out beyond the shoulders of Mantern's

Mountain, and you shall smell the shifting shadows over

there where the air is dark and heavy!'

 

The fortress of Underfall and Thane's crowning lay many

daylights behind them as Thane reined Esteron to a halt and

shook the dust of the long journey from his shoulders while

he gazed in wonder at the Granite City. Elionbel halted

Stumble beside him and gasped as her eyes swept over the

sheer granite walls, each one seeming to rest balanced upon

the one below as the inner circles rose up to meet the eaves

of Candlebane Hall, still shadowed- beneath its steep,

weather-bleached roof.

 

'It was worth a dozen daylights of hard riding ahead of the

people to see the new City. Nevian spoke of Willow's promise

to rebuild the Granite City out of the Nightbeast rubble but

look at it, a wonder of all Elundium!' Thane whispered

standing in his stirrups and leaning forward for a better view.

 

Behind them hoofbeats sounded on the Greenway and

Widow brought Starlight to a halt in a cloud of dust. Her

 

94

 

~ l

 

sides were sweat-streaked and her nostrils were wide as she

laboured for breath. 'Lord!' Willow cried, jumping lightly to

the ground and running to Thane's stirrup. 'I have ridden

hard to keep pace with you but Starlight is no match for

Esteron and Stumble!'

 

Thane laughed, dismounted and helped Elion to the

ground. 'I wanted to see the city, Willow. I wanted to see

what you had done with those piles of rubble left like tidal

wreckage by the Nightbeast siege.'

 

'Well, my Lord?' answered Willow, nenously blinking his

large round eyes. 'Our skill with picks and shovels was

learned beneath the nightbeasts' lash, I fear we had no

knowledge of the daylight or how to raise a city above the

ground.'

 

Elionbel took Willow's hand and pointed at the tall Tower,

the gentle sloping roofs and soft angles of the pink stone

houses. 'The colours and the shapes are beautiful,' she

whispered, 'but I thought that granite was grey.'

 

'We used the powdered stone and mixed it with coloured

mortar to mirror the sunlight at dawn,' ventured Willow. 'It

echoes all the glory of the sunshine,' he continued, not quite

sure whether Thane liked what he saw.

 

Thane laughed easily and put his arm around Willow's

shoulder 'It is a wonder beyond words. But how many

windows are there in the Great Wall?'

 

'Windows? There are no windows, my Lord; there are a

thousand walkways that lead out into the sunshine. Each wall

is a hollow colonnade with inner courtyards full of soft

shadows and places to rest.'

 

'How could you defend such a place?' Elionbel asked, a

 

shadow of worry crossing her face.

 

'Defend?' laughed Thane. 'Who would we need to defend

it against? The Nightmare is dead and the warriors who

would not have me as their King have vanished just as Nevian

foretold. Elundium is free of all foul Nightbeasts' shadows.

Come, let us ride to the Great Gates.'

 

95

 

a'Lord,' Willow hesitated, 'my people are still in the City. Let

me ride on before you and lead them out.'

 

Thane frowned. 'I promised your people could stay wherever

they wished in all Elundium. If your people want to stay in the

Granite City then it shall be theirs, but-' Thane paused,

remembering the long column of city folk slowly following

along the Greenway in their hoofprints '-but I would ask that

your people delay their choice until all the city folk who

survived the Nightbeast siege and the long secret road of

escape have returned to the places they once called their own

within the City.'

 

Willow blushed and knelt. 'Lord, we had such joy just being

free beneath the sunshine and gazing at the canopy of bright

stars filling the night sky overhead that none of my people

have claimed a single dwelling within the City. It was a great

blessing to give our labour as we chose and rest whenever we

wished upon the broad walkways that crown the high walls of

each circle of the City.'

 

Thane laughed and pulled Willow to his feet. 'I see hard

daylights of labour and little time taken for rest. Come, Willow

Leaf, Master mason, and lead us to the threshold of your

triumph for you have truly built a city fit for Kings.'

 

Elionbel remounted Stumble but for-a moment she held him

on the bridle while she looked back along the dusty Greenway

towards Woodsedge. Sadly she shook her head, it was less

than two daylights behind them yet she still saw clearly the

shattered timbers of the ruined doorway and the Nightmare's

footprints burned into the threshold stone. 'I could not enter,'

she whispered to herself, 'I did not have the courage to disturb

old memories.'

 

Thane had entered the ruined Wayhouse and knelt beside

her father, comforting him for the lonely times ahead. 'Come

with us,' he had urged, 'and share in the new Eludium.' But

Tombel had shaken his head, begging Thane to let him dwell in

the ruins of Woodsedge. Turning his head towards the

 

96

 

broken stairway he had insisted that he could hear Martbel's

footsteps and wished to remain there with her.

 

Thane shivered and had taken Tombel's hand, remembering

her last shout as the one-eyed nightbeast had plunged his

dagger into her. 'She will be with you always,' he had

answered, 'here or in the Granite City. Everywhere you call her

name, she will be there. Come to us soon and rejoice in our

wedding ties.'

 

Tombel had looked up, smiling gently. 'I will dwell here in

Martbel's memory until the warriors and city folk who follow us

on the Greenway crowd the broken doors of Woodsedge, then

with my grief put aside I shall march before them to the gates

of the City.'

 

Thane had smiled and risen to his feet. 'My grandfather,

Thoron, will stay with you for he will bring you comfort. We

will wait for both of you to reach the gates of the Granite City

before we announce the day of the wedding.'

 

Tombel had smiled through his grief and accompanied

Thane out of the Wayhouse, walking with him as far as the

Greenways' edge. 'I will come to you soon, daughter,' he had

whispered, gathering her in his arms, and together they had

wept, sharing their grief.

 

Elionbel had looked across her father's shoulder through the

broken doorway and had seen the shadow of happier

daylights 'I cannot enter, Father,' she whispered, 'but when

time has grown a skin across the wounds and I can stand in

the stone-flagged hall without seeing Krulshards' face in every

shadow then I shall once more be able to call Woodsedge my

home.'

 

He had nodded, blinking at the flood of tears coursing down

his cheeks and Thoron took his arm, turning him slowly back

towards the ruined door. 'I will bring Tombel to the gates of the

Granite City and we will laugh again in happier times,' he called

as the empty shell of Woodsedge had swallowed them up.

 

Elionbel sighed, shook her head to scatter the memories of

their parting and turned Stumble to follow Thane. Mulcade

hooted and stooped to her shoulder, pressing his talons gently

into the soft blue weave of her cloak. Smiling, she lifted her

hand and ruffled the owl's chest feathers. 'You are a great

comfort,' she whispered, urging Stumble into a canter to keep

pace with Esteron.

 

'Wonder of wonders!' Thane laughed, bringing Esteron to a

halt and dismounting before the new gates of the City.

Reaching out he touched the smooth pink walls, marvelling at

their soft, almost transparent surface. Behind him a great shout

of surprise mingled with the hoofbeats that thundered on the

Greenway and he turned, hands on hips, and waited.

 

'It looks a little different from the last time you saw it,' he

laughed, striding forwards to greet Breakmaster, Errant and the

rest of the company who had ridden with him from the

crowning on the Causeway Field.

 

'Lord, we could not believe it, we thought magic was in the

air- the colours, the . . .' Breakmaster dismounted, his voice

falling into a whisper as he stared open-mouthed at the new

city. He reached out a gnarled and leathery hand to touch the

iron studwork lacing the new gates in bold patterns. 'Willow!'

he cried, spinning round. 'This was a pile of splintered wood

and stone choke that lay beneath a fog of granite dust. You

have worked a wonder.'

 

Willow laughed and spread his hands nervously. 'Nevian, the

Master of Magic, walked with me through the ruins. He told me

the history of each place that we passed.'

 

'But it is so different,' gasped Grey Goose, stepping carefully

through the shadows of the gates and staring at the archways

and the colonnades running along the base of the great wall.

Where once mean and narrow houses had crowded together he

now saw broad windows that looked out across neat, cobbled

streets. 'There is more space, and it is so beautiful,' he added,

shouldering his bow.

 

Willow smiled. 'Nevian only talked of what had been, he told

us nothing of how the City had looked before the

Nightbeast siege. He counselled us to rejoice in our freedom

from the darkness and let our hearts dictate how the City

should grow.'

 

'It reflects your love of the sunlight,' laughed Thane. 'All

those arched windows almost seem to turn as petals on a

flower to follow the path of the sun as it travels towards

World's End. And you have a fountain beside the gate, how

did you work that wonder?'

 

Willow looked towards the plume of sparkling ice-cold water

that bubbled into a narrow ornamental stone trough. 'It rises

beside Candlebane Hall, my Lord,' he answered, 'amongst the

rubble of the fallen granite Tower.'

 

'The Armoury!' cried Breakmaster. 'It must be the

underground river we dammed to escape along the secret road.

The Master mason said it would flood and fill the tunnel

behind us.'

 

Willow shook his head. 'We knew not where it came from

but we rejoiced to have such pure water and brought it by

spiralling channels down through each level of the city,

feeding it into a dozen fountains before it reached the shadow

of the great gate. I thought that weary travellers could drink

from the wayside cup to mark the end of their journey, or

perhaps before setting out . . .'

 

Willow's voice trailed away. A long dustcloud wound back

along the Greenway marking the column of city folk and

warriors. His people were hurrying out through the gates,

 

kneeling silently for a moment before Thane to lay their

masonry tools on the Greenways' edge and then crowding

along the edges of the deep dykes that lay in the shadow at

the base of the outer wall. Thane took the wayside cup and

dipped it into the fountain. Turning, he lifted the cup steadily

in his hand.

 

'My friends,' he called in a strong voice, 'before you stands

the new Granite City. Let every traveller, old or young, drink

from the wayside cup before they pass through the gates. Let

it be our custom, our sign of peace and friendship to begin or

end the Greenway Road with the wayside cup.'

 

Thane lifted the cup to his lips and began to drink. Elionbel

took the silver finger bowl that had been her love token to

Thane from beneath her cloak and dipped it into the fountain.

Although battered and defiled by Krulshards' skinless hands it

still shone, catching the reflections of the sunlight and showed

clearly her name engraved with Thane's along the rim. 'Look!'

she whispered, touching Thane's arm. 'Each one of those who

rode with us has a finger bowl attached to their belts. They are

all raising them to salute us!'

 

Breakmaster laughed and drew a small wooden finger bowl

from beneath his cloak which he dipped into the fountain. 'The

story of how you sent Thane the finger bowl as a token of your

love has gone from camp fire to camp fire spreading faster than

the flames that devoured the kindling wood. The love between

you has touched everybody's hearts. Grown men weep when

they tell how Thane crossed Elundium all alone to rescue you,

Elionbel, from the City of Night; of how when all seemed lost

and he lay weak and helpless in the marsh upon a mat of reeds

he held up the tiny finger bowl and Rockspray, the great Battle

Owl, took it in his talons and delivered it into Kyot's hands,

who came to rescue you. '

 

Thane smiled, a faraway look misting his eyes, and linked his

arm through Elionbel's. 'Much gets forgotten in the telling,

Breakmaster,' he answered. 'What of Stumble's great race on

the Nightmare's heels, what of Ogion and Ousious, the grey

swans of doom, who sacrificed their sweet voices that I might

rescue Elionbel?'

 

'Many threads were pulled, Lord. A few are forgotten and

still the story takes a whole night to tell and the grey hours are

touching the sky before the part where Willow Leaf breaks into

the high chamber, bringing daylight into the City of night.'

 

Thane laughed and placed the wayside cup beside the

fountain before lightly springing up into Esteron's saddle

Cantering forwards he pirouetted between the gates, casting

sparks across the cobbles. 'Lest we forget from this daylight

forwards I name this the Stumble Gate in honour of the bravest

relay horse in all Elundium who carried me tirelessly on the

Nightmare's heels to rescue Elionbel!' he shouted.

 

Stumble neighed furiously, arched his neck and struck bright

sparks with his hooves before kneeling for Elionbel to mount. 'I

will never forget,' she whispered, leaning forwards to caress his

neck then urging him to follow Thane up the broad cobbled

way to Candlebane Hall and the one remaining Tower of

Granite. Behind her the shouts of the company gradually faded

into silence until all she could hear in the empty city was

Stumble's measured hoofbeats as they entered the highest

level and halted before the wall hiding Candlebane Hall.

 

Thane had dismounted, and waited at the beginning of the

long ramp Willow had raised that wound its way up towards

the top of the wall. 'Come with me, Elionbel, my Queen,' he

laughed, holding out his hand to her.

 

Elionbel laughed, jumped to the ground, gathered her skirts

and cloak hems into a bunch and chased after Thane, catching

her hand in his. Side by side they breasted the last step and

stood on top of the wall. 'I have been here before,' she

whispered, the colour draining from her face as she

remembered. She shook her head and blinked back her tears

then turned to look out across the sparkling new City. 'I told

 

him we would defeat him,' she hissed through brittle, clenched

lips. 'I told him he could not destroy the beauty of Elundium.'

 

'Who?' asked Thane, shading his eyes and following her

gaze across the bright sun-washed roofs that spread out

below them.

 

'Krulshards!' she hissed, her eyes glittering with hatred.

 

Turning her, he held her close, pressing his lips softly

against hers. 'Rejoice, my love,' he whispered. 'Rejoice to stand

here again, for you can trample on the place where he

thought he had conquered the daylight and cast a sunshadow

across these stones to swallow up his burned black

marks.'

 

Shakily, Elionbel nodded and moved to the exact spot

where Krulshards had defiled her mother. Boiling with anger

she lifted her foot and stamped on the blackened stones. She

spread her cloak to pass a shadow across the top of the wall

and, turning, she stared hard at the stones then caught her

breath as she watched them turn pure white in the sunlight.

 

'You see, he is destroyed and gone forever,' Thane whispered,

putting his arm around her shoulder and leading her

across the wall towards the slender clear spanned stone

bridge that cubed across the water to meet the broad stone

steps leading to Candlebane Hall.

 

'Wonders of Elundium!' he cried, his foot on the narrow

bridge. 'Willow told us the water for the fountain rose from

the rubble of the fallen Tower but, look, the inner circle of

the city has become a deep lake. At least twenty of the steps

that once followed the wall down to the cobblestones below

are now under water. Candlebane Hall is an island that rises

sheer in the clear water.'

 

'The swans!' Elion gasped, squeezing his hand. 'Look,

they are nesting amongst the flowers and bulrushes that

Willow must have planted amongst the boulders of the fallen

Tower.'

 

'Swanwater. This shall be the new Swanwater,' cried

 

Thane, running down a shallow flight of steps, his ironshod -

boots echoing as he followed the inner curve of the granite

wall. Kneeling on the bottom step he stared into the cold

deep water before he reached out his hand towards the swans

amongst the fallen rubble. 'You have truly blessed this city by ;

making it your home and I promise you will have my ~;

protection for as long as I live,' called out Thane.

 

Ogion and Ousious turned their heads at Thane's voice,

entered the water and swam silently to where he knelt. 'It is

yours forever,' Elion whispered, running her hand across

Ousious' pure white chest feathers. She felt for the nightmare's

wound but it had completely healed. The swans bent

their necks, hissing softly and brushed their bright orange

beaks against Thane and Elionbel. Turning, they swam out

into the lake and took to the air, beating the clear water into

a sparkling silver spray beneath tHeir wings.

 

'Yours forever!' shouted Thane, sweeping the summer

scarf above his head to catch all the beauty of the summer

sunlight. 'Yours forever!'

 

Shadowlands

 

Pushing the baby deep within his jerkin Kerzolde led Kerhunge

and Arbel away from the ring of Nightbeast carcasses,

following the scent of dark winds into the Shadowlands. They

vanished amongst the streaky ghost tails of mist that boiled

out to engulf them from the shifting fog banks lying across

their path. Soon they were lost, stumbling blindly between

the stunted wind-bent tangletrees or falling headlong in a

rattle of armour into deep rock-choked hollows. Arbel

stopped the two Nightbeasts, drawing them down into a

hollow and shouting to them above the roaring winds that no

one would ever find them in this desolate place; they would

be safe here from the warriors and the sharp-eyed owls.

 

Cursing and snarling, the Nightbeasts had nodded in

agreement before seeking the most sheltered side of the

hollow to fashion a rough shelter from the jumble of broken

boulders and wind-cracked rocks scattered all about them.

 

Kruel had grown quickly, stretching taller with each shadowy

daylight and feeding greedily on the dark carrion meats

Arbel or the Nightbeasts scavenged from beyond their hollow.:

He had become strong-boned yet graceful, quick-witted and

inquisitive, searching everything, turning over every stone

and pebble, looking in every secret place. Now he knelt

beside their rough shelter with his eyes fixed unblinking on a

dark crack. 'Come to me,' he whispered, letting the words

fall almost noiselessly in the dry barren air of the

Shadowlands. Before him sharp claws dug beneath the

ground, two bright eyes blinked in the darkness of the crack.

 

'Come to me,' he whispered again, lowering his slender

fingers into the darkness. Smiling, he felt the sleek body of

the shadow rat shrink away from his touch. With a shout of

triumph he hooked his fingers behind the rat's two sharp

cutting teeth and pulled it clear of its nest. It shrieked as he

swung it above his head, flinging it high into the air, and

laughing as he caught it by the tail. 'You are mine!' he

shrieked, biting it savagely behind the ear, sinking his teeth

deep into the rat's flesh.

 

'No! No!' shouted Arbel leaping to his feet. 'Do not kill it,

make it serve you, Kruel. Make it a part of the darkness.'

 

Kruel hesitated, his piercing eyes narrowing as he dangled

the rat by its tail. 'Part of my darkness?' he repeated, sitting

back on his haunches and stroking the rat's grey fur.

 

Arbel nodded and leant forwards. 'Kerzolde, Kerhunge

and I are not enough to take Elundium. To claim all

Krulshards' darkness you must control armies of men to set

against the warriors, and armies of birds and beasts to set

against the Warhorses and the Battle Owls.'

 

Kruel sank his head on to his chest and drew dark patterns

in the dust with the terrified rat, remembering all the one-eyed

Nightbeast had taught him of his father, Krulshards,

and the darkness that Thanehand, the Galloperspawn, had

taken from him. 'Darkness!' he muttered, lifting up the rat.

'How can I spread the darkness with creatures like this?'

 

Arbel smiled and lifted Kruel up on to his knee. 'When

you are full-grown we will sweep across Elundium bringing

darkness and despair wherever we go.'

 

Kerzolde grunted and nodded his hideous head. 'We will

strip the skin from Thanehand while he is alive and make our

new Master a beautiful suit of armour.'

 

'We will feed on his bones,' snarled Kerhunge, from where

he searched amongst the rocks for food. 'If we have any teeth

left to chew with after living on these rotten grubs.'

Kerzolde spat on the ground and threw a dry, gnawed bone

at his brother then cursed him into silence. 'You have much

power, Kruel,' he spluttered, turning back and dribbling on the

boy's head. 'Power to defy the sunlight and stand shadowless

against it. Power to spread your darkness through whatever

you touch.'

 

'Make the rat a part of your darkness,' urged Arbel. 'Just like

the weed worm.'

 

Kruel laughed and brought the frightened rat to his lips,

kissing and licking at the wound on his neck. 'You shall be

mine,' he whispered, watching the sleek grey fur darken and

grow brittle beneath his touch into a mass of needle spines that

rattled as it trembled in his hands. Putting the black shadow rat

down upon the ground he pushed it firmly with his foot,

sending it scuttling towards his hole.

 

'Fetch me more darkness,' he commanded, standing and

digging in the pocket of the rough breeches Arbel had

fashioned for him to wear. Crying with delight he pulled out the

weed worm and set it on the ground beside the rat. 'Fetch me

darkness,' he commanded again, touching the arched sting with

his toe and pushing the black-armoured worm away from the

rocky hollow they used as a refuge from the biting dark winds

sweeping across the Shadowlands.

 

Arbel smiled and rubbed his hands together. He had watched

Kruel growing stronger, seeming to squeeze whole suns of time

out of each daylight and he knew that they would soon take the

road back into Elundium. Catching these small animals and

vermin was only a beginning. Bending, he stared hopefully at

the black crack in the rocks, expecting a horde of black rats to

appear but nothing happened. Sighing, he rose to his feet,

wrapped his cloak tightly above his shoulders and went out to

search for food.

 

Kruel followed Arbel with his eyes then frowned and~

climbed up into Kerzolde's arms. He curled into a ball and

settled down to sleep. 'Is Arbel my brother?' he whispered.

'Only I tasted it in his blood when we first met and I feel it each

time we touch.'

 

Kerzolde hesitated. He had kept the blood tie between Arbel

and the boy a secret, afraid of the power they may hold

between them. 'Master,' he answered slowly, wiping his one

good claw across his mouth. 'The Marcher Arbel came upon

me in the Wayhouse of Woodsedge, he drove me out from

feasting on your mother's servers. He may have ties for they

both came from the same Wayhouse.'

 

Kruel scratched at Kerzolde's armoured hide, digging

beneath the scales. 'It is time for the truth,' he whispered,

looking up and holding the nightbeast's gaze.

 

Kerzolde grunted and tried to shrink away from the piercing

eyes. He could feel them probing, stripping back his secrets,

looking deep into his rotten black heart. 'Master,' he whispered

again, growing giddy with the lies that waited to tumble off his

ragged purple tongue.

 

'I know the truth,' whispered the boy, closing his eyes and

letting the nightbeast escape from his pitiless stare. He had

looked deeper than ever before, stretching his dark powers

that nudged and whispered at him, peeling back every moment

of Kerzolde's life from the time of his spawning deep within the

City of blight. Frowning, he shook Kerzolde. 'Look at me!' he

shouted, feeling anger course through his small body. Digging

his fingernails savagely between the Nightbeast~s armoured

scales he felt his muscles tighten. 'I want the truth about

Elundium. The truth about my father, Krulshards, not the

tangle of dark images and half-lies you have fed me on.'

 

Kerzolde tried to cower backwards but Kruel held on to lum,

seeming to grow, to swell with the power. 'Master, I only tell

 

you truths as I see them,' he cried, catching his breath as he

watched the pale skin on the boy's forehead begin to stretch

and tighten, the fire-red veins on his temples blackening

beneath the surface.

 

Kruel hesitated, looking from his hands to his arms, letting

 

107

 

Kerzolde go. Something was happening, something . . . He

reached up and touched his forehead, feeling the racing pulse

on his temples. A voice was calling him, a voice from

somewhere inside. His head shouted, telling him, urging him

to grow. Frowning he ran his fingers across the smooth, taut

skin towards a spot that burned with a black fire beneath his

golden curls. 'Krulshardsl' he cried. 'Father, Father!'

 

As his fingers found the place, a ridge of brittle skin, he

sighed with relief then pressed his nails into it and the hot

fire faded a little. His fingers felt warm and blood-wet.

Laughing, he dug them deeper and split the skin, releasing

the tightness in his head and sending the voice inside to a

whisper. Breathing deeply he drew his blood-sticky fingernails

down his forehead and along the bridge of his nose.

 

'Master Kruel!' Kerzolde cried, reaching out in real terror

as the boy threw back his head, pulled at the loose ends of

skin and peeled them down across his eye lids. Looking down

he picked at the raw bundles of sinews and pushed them up

under his cheekbones then shook his head violendy, releasing

a tangle of black locks that had lain hidden from the moment

of his birth beneath the skin on She top of his head.

 

'Kruel!' whispered the Nightbeasts in awe. 'Beneath thc

surface you are very like your father.'

 

Kruel stared at Kerzolde for a moment, blinking the blood

out of his eyes. 'No, I am more, much more!'

 

'But you are in his image,' answered Kerzolde, making

touch She boy's skinless arm with his one good claw.

 

'No! Do not touch!' shouted Kruel, jumping to She grou

and struggling to pull the loose skin off his shoulders. Biti

at his fingertips he released each finger in turn then he bt

double and trod on his empty hands to wriggle free his err'

Stretching and flexing the raw grey muscles in his should'

he stretched up and cried out as She cold wind bit into I

exposed nerves. 'No!' he screamed again as Kerzolde spre

his arms to protect him from the bitter cold. 'Do not tou

 

me.' he snarled, crouching down and curling his naked Ill

 

108

 

Without a pause he wrenched at the hanging folds of skin,

splitting them across his chest and tearing them down over

the slight bulge of his belly, forcing the wet, bloody tailends

of skin over his thighs, pulling it away from his knees and

calves until he stood, shivering and raw, naked and glistening,

a mass of sinews and muscle.

 

Staring at Kerzolde he began to laugh. White teeth and

pale eyes mocked as he bent and gathered up the heap of

blood-sticky skin. 'I am both man and Nightmare. I am both

darkness and light. The voice in my head shows me the

power and tells me the truth.'

 

'Does Krulshards speak to you?' asked the Nightbeast,

creeping forwards on his knees.

 

Kruel smiled, his blood-wet lips drawn back into a sneer.

'My father is dead. I am the only power of darkness.'

 

'What does the voice tell you that I have not already taught

you? I know the truth, I was there at Krulshards' side.'

 

'Truly?' snarled the boy, retreating into the deepest part of

the shelter and squatting on the ground. 'You see the truth

through a dark curtain and it distorts and twists everything

turning the warriors of Elundium into giants and giving their

battle Owls the wings of eagles. I have looked into you and

seen your truth.'

 

'But, but ...' stuttered Kerzolde, stumbling forwards, 'I

hide nothing.'

 

'Nothing?' sneered the boy bringing the first handful of

skin to his mouth and devouring it greedily. 'I saw more than

Arbel, I saw two Marchers and a blonde girl in your heart

Kerzolde. Who are they?'

 

Kerzolde paled, the bristly hair on the nape of his blunt

neck rising in waves of fear. 'The Elionbel! She tried to stab

you moments after your birth. She cursed you and swore to

destroy you.'

 

Kruel laughed, cramming his mouth full of skin. 'She is

but a weak woman, nothing,' he mumbled, pushing the loose

ends of skin between his teeth.

'No, Master, she is blood-tied to you,' whispered Kerzolde,

'just as much as the Marcher, Arbel, and that may give her

power. I was only holding the truth until you were stronger.'

 

Kruel frowned, the grey flesh wrinkling across his forehead.

He had felt a bond with the Marcher but what of the

Elionbel? In her he saw only hate, raw hate, and not one

moment of love or worship.

 

'I will eat her,' he laughed, finishing the last mouthful of

skin as he looked down at his fingernails and toenails that lay

in the palm of his hand. 'When all Elundium is mine and she

stands before me bound in chains, then in the first moment

of real darkness I shall eat her!'

 

'Yes! Yes!' Kerzolde agreed and crept nervously forwards

until he knelt a pace away from Kruel. 'Master, you have

grown taller and a new skin is forming, stronger and darker

than the birth skin you have just climbed out of.'

 

Kruel pushed his finger- and toenails into place then stood

up. He stretched and flexed his fingers, touching the drying

skin. 'It hides my purpose,' he laughed, reaching for the

breeches that lay on the ground beside him. Shivering, he

turned his head and looked down at his upper arm where he

found a large, irregular patch of raw flesh that ran from his

shoulder to his elbow and where the new skin did not meet.

Carefully he picked at the edges trying to pull them together.

 

'You have grown, Master, and the new skin does not quite

cover but we can hide your arm beneath a cloak or a jerkin

The Marcher will sew or find you one.'

 

Kruel shook his head angrily and cursed the skin, spitting

at the ground. 'What will happen next time I grow? What

does this new skin cover?' ~

 

A shout of delight filled the hollow making both Kruel and

Kerzolde jump and look over the ruin of broken boulders

Arbel ran towards them with something cupped in his hands

'Kruel! Kruel!' he shouted, descending into the hollow and

opening his hands to reveal a baby shadow rat with a brittle

black coat. In speechless astonishment he looked at the new

grown boy. 'Kruel!' he cried dropping the rat and reaching

out to touch the tangle of dead locks that spilled across his

forehead and created a strange contrast with the piercing pale

blue eyes.

 

Kruel smiled and caught Arbel's wrist. 'There is blood

between us! You are a part of me!'

 

Arbel froze. 'Brothers? We are brothers?'

 

'Yes, yes!' laughed Kruel. 'The Marcherwoman, Martbel,

spawned us both. I drew the truth of it from deep inside

Kerzolde, he was there in the City of Fight at the moment of

my birth.'

 

'Brothers,' repeated Arbel. Now he knew that what he had

pretended could not have happened was the truth. He knew

that the Marcherwoman Kerzolde had whispered of was his

mother. He shuddered and began to turn away, remembering

Martbel from the sunshine daylights of Woodsedge but Kruel

tightened his grip on Arbel's wrist and pulled him back,

holding his gaze and seeing a glimpse of the agony he was

suffering.

 

'She spawned us both!' he hissed. 'You in the daylight and

me in the darkness. We were not the Masters of yesterday

but together we hold the power to make tomorrow.'

 

Arbel blinked at a tear, the first he had shed since

Krulshards had cast the nightmesh about his ankles, and put

his arms around Kruel's shoulders. 'I love the darkness but

there is a part of Elundium I cannot escape from.'

 

Kruel laughed, bent and snatched up the baby black rat by

its tail. 'The memory will fade as we grow in power. All the

daylight will be swallowed up. Look how the light weakens

around the body of this rat.'

 

Arbel sang quietly to himself as he honed the rusty spearblade

he had salvaged from the circle of dead Nightbeasts into a

glittering razor-sharp edge. Kerhunge rolled over in the

bottom of the hollow, muttering and cursing in his sleep.

Suddenly he cried out and jumped to his feet, clawing

 

111

 

frantically at something attached to the soft skin beneath his

arm.

 

'Erm!' laughed Kruel seeing what had startled the nightbeast.

Quickly he crossed the hollow and carefully pulled the

weed worm's needle-sharp sting out of Kerhunge's arm,

whispering and stroking the shiny black worm with its

armoured scales as he slipped it back into his pocket.

 

'Master,' cried Kerhunge, staring at his hands, 'look!'

 

Arbel and Kerzolde crossed the hollow and stared down at

Kerhunge. Kruel took one of the Nightbeast's coarse hairy

hands and slowly turned it over, following the black shadowspreading

along Kerhunge's fingers. He laughed and looked

up into the Nightbeast's face. 'Erm carries my darkness,' he

cried, watching Kerhunge's skin change through deep indigo

into deepest shadow, then gradually the colour lightened until

Kerhunge had almost returned to his normal rancid:

colouring.

 

Kruel leered, the seeds of an idea forming in his mind.

Bending down he whistled, calling in a high-pitched shriek

until the centre of the hollow was seething with sleek black

shadow rats making a brittle rattle as they moved. Stretching

his hand out he caught one of the rats by the tail and held it

out to Arbel. 'They carry my darkness, brother. Let it bite

you to see if it fills a Marcher with my shadows.'

 

'No, No!' cried Arbel, hastily stepping backwards and

throwing his arms out in alarm.

 

Kruel took a step towards him, dangling the rat by his

fingertips. 'You must obey me,' he sneered, holding Arbel

still with his eyes.

 

The rats in the centre of the hollow had turned towards

Arbel, following Kruel's voice, their red eyes staring, their

brittle spines quivering. Slowly he bared his arm, unable to

resist, but his jaw was locked in a grim line of terror as he

watched Kruel bring the rat to him. Its nostrils twitched and

it sniffed at the hairs that had risen along Arbel's arm. It

scratched at his skin with its sharp cold claws then bit

 

112

 

savagely at him, sinking two long curved teeth into the flesh

of his arm. Arbel screamed, the holding spell broken, and

lashed out at the rat, sending it flying out across the hollow.

 

Crouching, he pinched the wound between two fingers to

stop the flow of blood and stared hatefully at Kruel. Kruel

stared back without a moment's remorse, watching Arbel's

skin carefully, searching for the shadows. 'There is the

darkness,' he whispered with joy, pointing with a sharp

fingernail at the blood-stained skin around the wound.

 

Arbel tried to cry out. His fingers were tingling with cold

black shadow, the darkness was travelling through his veins,

showing as starkly as winter trees etched against a pale, rainwashed

sky. The blood rushed and bubbled through his head,

pounding in his ears. Kruel was laughing, holding him,

growing, smothering him with warm darkness. He tried to

move, to follow Kruel's dancing steps but his legs were too

heavy. He tried to touch, but his hand was too numb. He

tried to shout but his mouth fell open in dry silence. He was

now a part of the darkness, the total blackness of deepest

night, lost and blind to the weak sunlight that shone across

the Shadowlands. Somewhere in the darkness he could hear

the whispers of Kruel's breath and the groan of stones

splitting into a thousand grains of sand. A hand was shaking

him, pulling him out of the darkness. Kruel was laughing,

slapping his face, each handprint getting sharper and more

painful.

 

'Brother! Brother, wake up!' Kruel cried, dancing with

delight, pulling at Arbel's hand.

 

Arbel shook his head and stumbled forwards. His feet were

still numb and it felt as if he was walking on his ankles. 'What

happened?, he gasped, flinching with pain as the weave of his

cloak brushed against the ratbite on his forearm.

 

'My darkness was in you,' cried Kruel. 'One tiny bite and

 

you were full of shadows. Blackness billowed around you.

Look at your skin-the darkness lingers.'

 

Arbel held up his hands and stared at the dark mass of

 

113

 

aveins that pulsed just beneath the skin. The numbness was

receding to a tingling in his fingertips, the skin colour of his

hand lightened, but the tangle of veins still showed

winterblack. Turning to Kruel, he shook his head. 'I already

love and worship you, brother, it was no test of your power for

me to feel the wonder of darkness. It was just a cruel trick,

forcing me to take that ratbite.'

 

Kruel laughed and took Arbel's arm, licking at the swollen,

angry wound, soothing it with his tongue. 'Test or not, the

shadow rats do more than just carry the darkness in the colour

of their coats, they will give it to each warrior they bite. Come,

brother, it is time to leave the Shadowlands and try a little

darkness on Elundium.'

 

'Master, you are not strong enough,' cried Kerzolde. 'Wait

until you are fully grown then we will take all Elundium as our

own.'

 

'Fool!' snarled Kruel, pushing the Nightbeast aside. 'We will

creep in secret, a shadow rat or two in attendance and see how

much darkness they can make.'

 

'But you have nothing to set against the standard of

Thanehand the Galloperspawn,' cried Kerzolde as he was

roughly pushed aside, 'and there are only three of us to defend

you!'

 

'Standard!' hissed Kruel, closing his hand around Kerzolde's

iron collar and pulling him to his feet. 'What is this standard the

Galloperspawn carries?'

 

'A foul picture of the sun, Master, it shines with white fire

and burned blindness into our eyes as we fought to defend

your father, Krulshards,' cried Kerzolde.

 

'A hideous standard,' spat Kerhunge, 'that drew the warriors

of Elundium wherever it flew above the battle field; thicker than

hungry maggots on a fresh carcass they flocked about his

bright rag.'

 

'Side by side with the foul emblem of the owl in blue and ~

gold,' muttered Arbel from where he stood on the high rim i of

the hollow with his back to the shifting fog banks as he

 

114

 

looked out towards the distant peaks marking the edge of the

Shadowlands and the beginnings of Elundium. 'Together they

hold so much power.'

 

Kruel frowned and picked at the raw flesh on his upper arm,

trying in vain to draw both edges of his new skin together. 'We

must have our own standard to set against the picture of the

sun. Something so powerful it will swallow the light.'

 

'As black as Krulshards' malice,' whispered Kerzolde,

beginning the steep climb out of the hollow.

 

'My father's cloak!' cried Kruel, pulling Kerzolde back into

the hollow. 'That would have the power to swallow daylight.

But where is it?'

 

Kerzolde paled and shrank away.

 

'Where?' shouted Kruel, forcing the Nightbeast to look into

his eyes. 'Where is it?' he whispered, searching back into

Kerzolde, seeing through his eyes their perilous escape, the

dark culvert boiling with angry water, the high doors of

Underfall and the frozen Kings beneath the ground.

 

'Where?' he hissed, searching and finding the narrow crack

and squeezing into the beautiful darkness of the City of Night.

Laughing, he took Kerzolde's hands and through him followed

the winding roads that spiralled upwards through the empty

Hence until he reached the high chamber and shuddered to see

the broken roof, the heaps of Nightbeast dead. Everywhere the

noise of battle shouted at him, forcing him to jump backwards.

He cried out as Battle Owls stooped, savage Border Runners

snarled and War Horses reared and plunged. Above his head

the bright banner of the sun was carried by two owls before

him in the centre of the chamber. Thanehand laughed and

gloated and shouted something as he drove a glittering sword

double-handed into towering black shadows. 'Father!' Kruel

 

cried as he watched Krulshards' last moment in the bright sparklight

that danced and burnt along the blade as it pierced his

father's heart. 'Father,' he whispered again as the sword

sheared through his back

 

115

 

bone and fused in a blinding flash of light with the column of

rock. Weakly he let Kerzolde go, for now he knew where to

look for the malice.

 

'We must enter the City of Night. Come, Kerzolde, lead

us back into the darkness.'

 

'The gates are sealed against us, Master. There is no way

into the City of Night.'

 

'You lie! You lie, you black-scaled beast, there is a way

through the tomb of frozen Kings. I saw it clearly in your

heart.'

 

'Master, we would never be able to creep past all those

foul warriors who guard the fortress of Underfall. It was pure

luck we escaped by that secret road.'

 

Kruel laughed and whistled to the shadow rats. 'The

Palace of Kings shall be mine,' he shouted, scrambling up

over the hollow's rim. 'Mine! Mine! Mine! It will be the first

part of E;lundium to become a part of the darkness, my

darkness!'

 

116

 

A_

 

A Night to Remember

 

Thane eased himself against the back of the Honour Chair

and let the noise and laughter that filled the Great Hall pass

over his head, to vanish in the hanging flags and bathe

emblems covering the walls. Smiling, he watched the servers

clear a space before each guest and place there a finely

hammered silver cup bound by a broken chain. Quickly the

hall fell silent and all eyes turned expectantly towards the

King. Thane nodded to the Master Server and tall pitchers

of Sparkling water drawn from the fountain beside the

Stumble Gate were taken from table to table until each tiny

finger bowl had been filled to the brim.

 

'We will wait,' commanded Thane, turning his eyes

towards the doors and tilting his head to one side as he

listened.

 

Breakmaster caught Thane's eye and barely nodded, show~

ng that he was ready for the moment when the doors would

swing open. Elionbel frowned and fidgeted with the lace ends

of her sleeves. 'Whom do we await?' she asked in a whisper,

leaning close to Thane.

 

- But he only smiled and answered, 'Listen and watch the

door.'

 

Far away the sound of tramping feet and hootbeats echoed

n the lower circles of the City. Mulcade hooted and stooped

from the Kingpost beam above the fireplace to perch battleready

on Thane's shoulder. Footsteps echoed beside the

hooDbeats on the broad winding stairs. Warriors, Marchers,

 

117

 

Archers, all made to rise but Thane bade them to stay with

the palm of his hand. Standing, he lifted his finger bowl and

cried a greeting as the tall doors were flung open.

 

'Welcome to Tombel, the greatest Marcher Captain in all

Elundium who has triumphed over the shadows of despair

and to Thoron, the great Galloper. Together they lead the

people of Elundium back into their city.'

 

'Welcome!' shouted the guests, rising as one.

 

Elionbel dropped her cup, rose to her feet and ran to her

father, throwing her arms about his ancient shoulders.

'Father, oh, Father,' she cried, weeping with joy.

 

Thane looked past them, a gentle smile softening his face.

'Grandfather,' he said, quietly offering Thoron the finger

bowl, 'all Elundium welcomes you into the city, for you

brought hope in the morning and chased away our fears at

night. Without your quiet courage all would have been lost.'

 

Thoron smiled, drank from the cup and shook his head.

'No, Thane,' he laughed, giving the cup back and lifting his

hand to stroke Equestrius' muzzle, 'it was the courage of the

Warhorses, the Border Runners and the Bathe Owls; without

them we could have been lost in the shadows.'

 

Thane laughed and ran his hand through Equestrius'

mane, holding Thoron's eye for he knew the truth in his

grandfather's words. Thoron smiled and taking back the

finger bowl in his gnarled fingers, he turned, raising it

towards the Lord of Horses. 'I drink to an old friend who

came without being asked and did not count the cost that we

might be rid of the darkness.'

 

'Equestrius, Equestrius! Lord of Horses!' shouted the

feasters stamping their feet and calling for their cups to be

refilled.

 

Thane lifted his hands and waited for silence. 'In form

daylights Elundium will have a Queen, for now that Tombel

has come to the city Elionbel and I can be wedded in

Candlebane Hall. Breakmaster, send messengers throughout

the land, the day isnamed, the hour is called.'

 

118

 

'Lord,' cried Errant, King Holbian's messenger, rising to

his feet, 'let me ride to Stumble Hill and Underfall to fetch

Kyot and Thunderstone.'

 

Thane smiled and strode across the hall to grip Errant's

hand. 'Go quickly with wings on your horse's heels and tell

Kyot to bring Eventine and her father, Fairday, and even

Archer and glassmaker who can be spared.'

 

Errant laughed and sprang lightly over the table. 'Lord, as

Dawnrise is the first stallion of Underfall none shall pass him

on the road. It shall be done,' he cried, running towards the

doors.

 

'Wait!' called Thane, frowning. 'As you ride, spread the

word and find Willow Leaf and all his people. They must

attend as our honoured guests.'

 

Errant turned and held out his hands. 'Lord, they could be

anywhere in all Elundium!'

 

Thane shook his head. 'No, look for beauty. Wherever the

Greenway has been gardened there you will find them, for

they travel to see all the mantels of the sunlight and I know

they could not resist putting things right, trimming the

Greenways' edge or pruning the trees. They should be easy

to find.'

 

Errant bowed, turned towards the doors and quickly

departed. Elionbel came to Thane's side and took his hand.

'Forty daylights!' she whispered, smiling with delight. 'I

thought the worries of the Kingship had driven the wedding

from your mind.'

 

Thane laughed, and linked his arm through hers. 'Even~thing

has been secretly arranged from the moment we first

entered the city but I had promised your father I would not

 

name the day until he had finished his mourning for Martbel

and brought the city folk to the gates of the City.'

 

At the mention of her mother a shadow passed across

Elionbel eyes and her hand lighted on his arm. Thane

Stopped and drew her close to him. 'What is it?, he whispered,

putting his arm protectively around her shoulders.

 

119

 

'Nothing, just a shadow,' she whispered, shaking her head.

'Shadows, always shadows,' he answered, an edge of worry

in his voice, before beckoning Tombel and his grandfather to

the empty seats on each side of the Honour Chair.

 

Elionbel took a deep breath and forced the vision of

Martbel, her mother, from her mind. Turning to Thane

again she cried in a brighter voice, 'Forty daylights! That is

not enough time to make a wedding gown!'

 

Thane laughed and put his lips to her ear and whispered,

'My mother, Angis, has been using all her needle skill in the

highest room in the Granite Tower. Go to her, my love, and

see what wonders have grown beneath her fingertips. Go

now!'

 

Elionbel laughed, kissed his cheek then gathered up her

skirts and cloak hems, called her servers and maids and ran

gaily from the feasting hall. Thane watched her go and smiled

to himself, happy to see her joyful again. Sighing, he turned

to Thoron. 'Kingship is easy,' he said in a quiet voice, 'yet

the smoothness of it troubles me. Both King Holbian and

Nevian in their wisdom counselled me on the perils of ruling

Elundium so I fear I have missed something, or that just

beyond the horizon black clouds are building up to destroy

this blissful sunlight.'

 

Thoron laughed and sat back in his chair. 'Elundium is at

peace, Thane. Everywhere the daylight flourishes, the Greenways

are neat and well trimmed back to the forest edge.

People travel as they have not done for an age and everywhere

laughter and easy talk fills the air. There are no black clouds,

only word of a new King who makes and mends and sets

right an age of wrongdoing.'

 

Thane frowned and shook his head. 'You speak so lightly,

 

Grandfather, but what of the warriors that would not take me;

as their Kir g? Is there any rumour of them? Surely they have not

just vanished.'

 

Thoron moved closer to Thane, drawing his forehead into

a thousand wrinkles. 'Rumour has it that they passed through

 

120

 

Mantern's Forest travelling only the wild roads that none but

the desperate would use. Since then they have completely

disappeared.'

 

Breakmaster coughed and lightly touched Thane's arm.

'Lord!' he whispered, drawing closer. 'Word came in today

that warriors were seen just after the crowning in the

grasslands beyond Meremire Forest, but none left the forest

to cross the Greenways towards Stumble Hill.'

 

'Where have they gone?' muttered Thane, staring blankly

at the laughing faces flanking him on either side of the hall.

'Where could they have gone? Surely they could not survive

without food in the forest.'

 

'Word will come,' answered Thoron. 'You can lay ten

Granite Kings or the hem of Nevian's cloak on it that if they

are anywhere in Elundium you will soon know about it.'

 

'And nothing has changed?' pressed Thane. 'Nothing?'

 

Thoron laughed and shook his head. 'Nothing, well nothing

except some gnarled old trees growing along the Greenways'

edge.'

 

'Trees?' questioned Thane, leaning forwards. 'What trees?'

 

'Oaks. Hoary lichen-tangled old twists of timber that look

ready for the axe,' answered Tombel.

 

'No. Hornbeam or cedar,' insisted Thoron. 'But the

strange dining is that dley seemed to have appeared where the

rebellious warriors were last seen. I am sure I've ridden past

Hem a thousand times before without really noticing them.'

 

Thane laughed, pushing his finger bowl aside. 'No, surely

not even Nevian could have used magic to turn the warriors

into trees! But are they only old trees?' Frowning, he fell

 

silent and reached forwards to pick up his finger bowl,

absendy turning it between his dbumb and first finger while

he waited for an answer.

 

'Old?' repeated Thoron at length. 'Yes they were mosdy

old windblown trees but . . .' Thoron hesitated drinking back

and remembering how much like warriors they had looked

standing so still, so silent.

 

121

 

'They shall be cleared away,' interrupted Tombel. 'They

cast dark shadows across the Greenways and keep out the

light.'

 

'No!' burst in Thoron, turning to his aged friend. 'There

is something about them. The way they stand, high-arching

the road with their whispering boughs as if they are guarding

or waiting. Perhaps they do have something to do with the

warriors: remember, Nevian did curse them.'

 

Thane lifted his hand and waved them both into silence.

'How do they stand?' he asked, turning to his grandfather.

 

Thoron thought for a moment before spreading his gnarled

fingers on the table's edge. 'They stand like this, in silent

rows, with their roots buried in the Greenways' edge, each

one touching the close-mown turf as if they were about to

step over the road.'

 

'Do they stand on both sides?' questioned Thane.

 

'No!' laughed Tombel. 'They only stole our sunlight

towards Underfall and World's End. On the other side the

Greenways are clear for leagues beyond the drainage dykes.'

 

'Did they stand in the dykes?' asked Thane.

 

'No, they are as I told you,' Thoron replied, 'a single line,

their roots touching the Greenways' edge.'

 

Thane frowned and sat back in the Honour Chair, deep in

thought. He could not remember a single tree along the road

that answered to the description his grandfather had just

given him.

 

'A company of axe men could clear them in a dozen;

daylights, my Lord,' called out Tombel, breaking into

Thane's thoughts.

 

'No!' he answered, leaning forwards forcefully. 'Against

your peril set an axe or blade on any living tree along the

Greenways' edge. Leave them be until we know more abou

them, but keep a careful watch and bring me news of their

flowering or any movement that they might make.'

 

Somewhere near the Great Doors in the deepest shadow

 

122

 

light began to move. Thane turned his head to watch and let

the finger bowl fall forgotten from his fingers.

 

Laughter whispered, dodging between the silent feasters

until it reached his chair. 'The warriors are cursed to stand

beside the Greenways' edge,' a voice rippled out.

 

'Nevian?' Thane cried out, half-rising, but the light weakened,

the voice melted and dissolved through all the colours

of the rainbow back into darkness and the shadows were still

once more. 'Nevian!' he called again, taking a step towards

the doors.

 

Thoron rose and moved to Thane's elbow. 'If that were

the Master of Magic, my Lord, I think he was rejoicing in

your judgement to leave the trees where they stand.'

 

Thane smiled and reddened. 'Perhaps,' he whispered,

turning and clapping his hands, calling for the feasting to be

finished and the entertainments to begin.

 

Clowns tumbled through the doorway at Thane's command,

bowing and vaulting their way across the polished

stone floor. Pipers and lutists solemnly followed, each one

bowing as they passed their King. Thane clapped his hands

again. 'Begin,' he commanded and the clowns leapt into the

air somersaulting in bright circles behind the noise and bustle

of the entertainment. Thane quickly ducked out of sight

through a low doorway and hurried away, sighing with relief.

He left the Tower of Granite and walked alone beneath a

star-filled sky down through the quiet city towards Stumble

Gate. Hoofbeats on the cobbles sounded behind him and he

spun round, hand on the dagger in his belt.

 

Thoron laughed as he caught up with Thane. He dis

 

mounted from Equestrius and fell into step with his grandson.

'Kingship is not quite as you said, is it, Thane?'

 

Thane smiled and took Thoron's hand. 'There is a side of

t that terrifies me, Grandfather,' he answered. 'The bowing

and the kneeling, the waiting on each word, each nod or blink

of the eye. Sometimes I wish I had Mulcade's gift of flight or

Esteron,S tireless speed so that I might be far away from the

 

123

 

endless feasting and noise, the banging on drums and the

shouts. Sometimes I feel that it is me dancing through the

hoop not the entertainers.'

 

Thoron stopped and turned Thane to face him. 'You were

chosen, Thane. You cannot run away from your fate.'

 

'Yes, yes! I know that,' answered Thane impatiendy. 'But I

feel so alone. Everyone is so anxious to please, to say exactly

what I want to hear.'

 

'But you have Elionbel, surely she . . .'

 

Thane shook his head and began to turn away. 'There is a

shadow in her heart, Grandfather. I often see it in unguarded

moments and because of it she tries harder than most to

please me.'

 

'A shadow?' questioned Thoron in a troubled voice. 'Elundium

is free of shadows; even Tombel has healed the wounds

of losing his warrior wife. What troubles Elionbel? Is it

Martbel's death?'

 

Thane shurgged his shoulders. 'I feel that it goes deeper

than Martbel's death. Some other terrible thing must have

happened between the Nightmare taking Elionbel and her

mother from the Wayhouse of Woodsedge and my rescuing

Elion from the City of Night. That much I am sure of, but

what it is that could affect her so I dare not guess at.'

 

Thoron muttered something under his breath and once

more fell into step with Thane. 'Where do you walk to seek

comfort in the dark?' he asked as they passed out through the

lower levels of the city beneath the Stumble Gate.

 

Thane called out to the guards who sat in the watching

niches on each side of the gate, commanding them to let

them past. He pointed out into the dark countryside. 'Out

there, Grandfather, I feel safe. Amongst the nightsounds

beneath a bright canopy of stars, I can hear the truth

whispered in the hedgerow and no one courts me, eager to

is close at hand, I can heat

 

.

 

do my pleasure. Listen, Esteron

his hoofbeats on the night wind.'

 

124

 

'There are Battle Owls and Border Runners near us,'

whispered Thoron.

 

Thane smiled and looked at his grandfather in the darkness,

remembering he was the greatest Errant rider Elundium

had ever known.

 

Equestrius stiffened, his ears pricked and he snorted a

quiet greeting to Esteron who trotted out of the darkness and

halted before Thane. Thoron touched Thane's arm and

silently pointed to two Border Runners that walked at

Esteron's heels. Thane knelt and rubbed his hands through

the Border Runners' thick sable coats. He laughed and pulled

their ears playfully. 'They are near me always, ever since they

helped Kyot find me in the grasslands.'

 

'Do they come into the city?' asked Thoron.

 

'No. They will not pass the Stumble Gate. I think then it

would mark the end of their freedom,' Thane replied sadly

as he climbed slowly to his feet.

 

Thoron took Thane's hand. 'You are my King, Thane,

and within the circle of the City I must bow before you and

treat you as others do but here in the darkness you will always

be Thanehand, my grandson, whom once I lifted up to sit on

Amarch's saddle while I called down the Battle Owls to perch

upon your shoulders. Here in the darkness we shall be as

before and share our shadows while we pass the night-time

hours in secret glades by hidden pools. Come, ride with me

until the grey hours.'

 

'Grandfather!, Thane cried, feeling his eyes grow wet with

tears. 'How I yearned as a boy to ride beside you. How I

 

dreamt of being tall enough to touch your stirrup.'

 

Thoron laughed and pointed into the darkness where he

could faintly hear Errant's receding hoofbeats and said,

Every man in Elundium is now poised to do your bidding.'

 

Errant pushed Dawnrise into a faster trot and moved out on

to the crown of the road away from the gnarled old trees that

nearly shadowed the Greenways' edge. He felt uneasy and

turned up his cloak collar against unseen eyes, yet he knew

he rode alone. Nothing moved in the bleak flat landscape that

stretched to the horizon, nothing except the leagues of tall

grass bent in whispering waves before the summer wind.

 

'We could reach Stumble Hill before night falls,' he urged,

running his gloved hand across Dawnrise's shoulder, feeling

the hard sheets of muscle ripple beneath the horse's skin as

he surged forwards in larger strides to match the lengthening

shadows. Looking up, Errant shivered and tried to close his

ears to the whispering boughs that arched the road just above

his head; their noise seemed to follow him even when the

wind had fallen away to nothing and the sparse leathery

leaves hung limp in the still air.

 

'Man or beast, step forwards!' he had often shouted with a

hand on his sword, but nothing moved and sweet silence

lasted but a second before the whispering began again.

Sometimes Errant thought he saw eyes watching him, staring,

blinking, following their every hoofbeat, but if he turned

quickly in the saddle they were gone and the twisted trunks

showed only deep age-worn bark furrows, scarred and

weather-cracked beneath the hanging creepers.

 

The ground began to rise, the gnarled trees thinned until

they stood in small uneven clumps clinging on to the edge of

the road, their knobbly roots buried in the short springy turf.

Errant laughed and spurred Dawnrise into a canter as they

passed the last lichen-covered oak and galloped into the late.

evening sunlight. Before him he saw the Tower of Stumble

Hill, its dark spire rising against the setting sun. Twisting in

the saddle he looked back across his shoulder at the bleak

line of ancient trees and sighed with relief: there was magic

between their trunks, he had felt it and smelt it and he was

glad to be on the open road again. Looking ahead, he could

see movement beside the doors of Stumble Hill. There were

strikes of Archers forming on either side of the road and he

felt safe once more. 'I bring news from Granite City,' he

cried, cantering through the strikes of bowmen who throned

the road. 'I bring news of King Thane's wedding ties to the

Lady Elionbel.'

 

Reining Dawnrise to a halt, Errant quickly dismounted and

picked up a stone jar of cedar oil. 'Bless my journey,' he

whispered, tipping a little of the amber oil on to the ceremonial

bow set inside the empty grave niche beside the doors of

Stumble Hill.

 

Rising, Errant turned towards the doors. 'Kyot, Kyot,' he

cried, a little impatiently, 'I bring you news, glad news of the

King's wedding ties.'

 

'Good news at last,' shouted a voice from amongst the

Archers. 'But it would have been better news if the King had

ridden out himself to rid us of these trees.'

 

Errant tightened his hand on the reins and took a step

closer to the stirrup. 'Where is Kyot?' he demanded. 'Where

is the Keeper of Stumble Hill? He would not be afraid of a

copse of trees or take the King's name in vain!'

 

The Archers mumbled and whispered together until one

eventually stepped forwards. 'Kyot does fear the trees, messenger.

He fears them enough to go fast riding with Eventine

and a strike of Archers to fetch Eventine's father, Fairday of

Clatterford, into the safety of Stumble Hill.'

 

'Gone?' questioned Errant, wiping the dust from his eyes.

'Running from a line of trees that mark the Greenways'

edge?'

 

'Yes, messenger. They cast strange shadows and every

daylight there are more of them,' cried the Archers.

 

Errant laughed, a dry mirthless sound and pointed into the

gathering darkness. 'You would fear your own shadow,

Archer, if you had the courage to look at it. I have ridden

beneath those trees from where they first bury their roots in

the Greenways, edge, five leagues from the gates of the

 

Granite City to within sight of these doors. Yes, there is

Something about them - perhaps magic is woven into their

branches and twisted trunks. but there is nothing to fear

 

127

 

Why, need even forced me to sleep beneath their whispering

boughs and they did me no harm!'

 

'Magic?' called anxious voices amongst the strikes of

Archers.

 

'Yes, magic,' answered Errant turning to stare out across

the darkening grasslands. 'But I doubt if it is there to hurt

you.'

 

Errant's strength of purpose seemed to ease the tense

atmosphere in the courtyard. One Archer laughed, another

put down his bow and then a third called out, 'Let us drink a

toast to King Thane and the Lady Elionbel.'

 

'And call for Errant, the messenger, to forgive our fears,'

shouted another who recognised Errant.

 

Errant eased his grip on the reins, and took the offered

cup and drank with the Archers but the joy of the moment

was shortlived and less than an arrowblade deep. Everywhere

he looked the Archers fidgeted, grim-faced, their eyes always

turned towards the darkness beyond the Great Doors. A

sewer came to take Dawnrise into the stables, but Errant

hesitated and kept his hand upon the bridle.

 

'Come, Errant,' laughed an Archer, 'surely you would:

rather sleep the night hours here beneath our roof?'

 

Errant slowly nodded and handed over the reins. 'The

trees made my blood freeze and the hairs tingle on the nape

of my neck but for all their whispering and watching they did

me no harm. However, I do fear your tenseness and the dull

glint of new-forged arrows necked ready on the strings.'

 

The Archer laughed and moved closer to Errant. 'Two

daylights ago someone foolishly loosed an arrow into one of

the first trees to appear on Stumble Hill - it screamed.

shook with rage, red sap poured from the wound. From that!

moment the trees that now stretch to the horizon began to

crowd the road all about us. We stand battle-ready lest th

attack.'

 

'Did you draw the arrow from the tree?' Errant cried.

 

128

 

'No, messenger,' answered the Archer. 'We feared to go

close to it lest it snatched us up and tore us apart.'

 

Errant cursed under his breath and took a flickering tardipped

torch from a bracket on the tower wall. 'Show me this

tree, brave Archer, if you fear the King's wrath more than

the wooden branches for I was told as I left the Granite City

how he has pledged us all on pain of death to leave the trees

unharmed and not to raise an axe or a blade to them.'

 

Fear spread among the Archers as Errant waited between

the doors. 'Who will show me?' he asked. 'Who will show me

the fool's arrow that I may put right your wrong?'

 

'I will,' answered a young Archer, stepping quickly forward

and taking the flaming torch from Errant's hand.

 

The trees groaned and rushed in the darkness, the thick

canopy of branches overhead swayed in the torchlight without

a breach of wind. Errant shivered and kept close to the young

Archer, keeping his own fears well hidden beneath his cloak.

 

'Here, messenger,' whispered the boy giving the torch back

to Errant and pointing Onto a click trail of sticky red sap

dried into the wrinkles and folds of the twisted bark.

 

Errant held the torch aloft and stared at the blackened

arrowshaft where it protruded from an ugly wound in the

trunk of the tree. Gathering his courage, he unsheathed his

long cutting knife. 'I stand before you in the King's name,'

he shouted 'I bring you his word that none will harm you

with axe or blade.'

 

The branches above his head began to sway violently, the

leathery leaves rushed and whispering ran from trunk to

trunk. 'I come,' he shouted again, 'to put right your hurts and

pull the foolish Archer's arrow blade. I come in peace.'

 

Turning towards the ring of anxious Archers who had

followed him, their faces showing fear in the torchlight, he

asked for the Healer of Stumble Hill to step forwards. 'Have

oiled cottons ready,' he commanded, handing the torch to

the nearest Archer and beckoning two odlers to the base of

 

129

 

the tree. He made them kneel to form a human step so that

he could reach the arrowshaft.

 

The dense rows of trees became silent, nothing moved in

the still night air. Pausing to gather his courage Errant laid

his head against the trunk. The bark felt warm upon his

cheek, almost like an acient skin that gently throbbed as if a

pulse beat deep down inside. Errant shuddered and quickly

drew away. Gripping the arrowshaft he pushed in the point

of his dagger beside the barbed spines of the arrow's blade

and forced the blade into the bark. Fresh hot sap bubbled

up, spilling across his hand. The tree groaned and twisted

away from him, the branches whipped above his head.

Gritting his teeth he pulled and pulled until, with a shout of

triumph, he toppled backwards from his precarious perch

and fell to the ground, the sap-spoiled arrowhead gleaming

dully in his hand.

 

'Oiled cottons, Healer,' he cried, throwing away the arrow.

He snatched a handful of the cool oil-soaked pads from the

Healer's sack and packed them into the tree's wound. The

trunk shook and trembled, the branches writhed and danced

in the torchlight and the whispering amongst the leaves ran

far along the Greenways' edge into the darkness.

 

'In the King's name, stand in peace,' shouted Errant,

resheathing his dagger and turning towards the doors of

Stumble Hill. A branch reached down out of the darkness

and touched his shoulder, fuming him gently, drawing him

back to stand before the scarred trunk. The whispering grew

silent; it was as if a thousand eyes were watching, looking,

remembering him.

 

'Stand in peace,' Errant half-whispered again before his

courage finally failed and he fled, his cloak tails billowing

behind him as he entered the safety of Stumble Hill.

Breathing deeply, he smiled, slowed his pace and crossed the

cobbled courtyard towards the glowing lamplight of the

Archers' eating halls. Behind him the doors were closing and

the night-time bell rang out clear across the silent Greenway.

 

# # #

 

130

 

Dawnrise stood, ready-saddled, as the last of the grey hours

strengthened into a new morning. The sun bumed with

bright fire beyond World's End and the first blackbird of

morning waited in the hedgerow to sing to the dawn. 'I will

ride on to Underfall,' Errant said, speaking with new resolve

as the light filled the courtyard and the doors of Stumble Hill

swung open slowly. 'To bring word of the wedding tie and

accompany Thunderstone into Granite City while you Archers

must cast lots or split stalks of straw with new-forged

arrowblades to choose who will go and who will stay. But,

mark my words, King Thane wants every man who can be

spared to be inside the Granite City by the fortieth daylight.'

 

'What of the trees?' shouted a dozen Archers as Errant

"athered the reins and sprang up lighdy into the saddle.

 

'The trees?' he laughed, pirouetting Dawnrise, casting

bright sparks across the cobbles. 'Perhaps they have come to

guard the Greenways' edge but touch them not and gather

with all haste before your King.'

 

'But . . .' shouted the young Archer who had held the torch

for him the night before.

 

'No more buts,' laughed Errant, spurring his horse through

the doors and vanishing in a thunder of hoolbeats beneath

the ancient trees. A flash of bright light from his sword hilt, a

waving hand, and he was gone, galloping the Greenway

leagues to Underfall.

 

131

 

Upon the Greenways ' Edge

 

Sighing with delight, Willow rested his long curved scythe

upon the Greenways' edge. He pressed his fingers into the

warm new-mown grass. Breathing deeply he shut his eyes

and let She scent of the grasses fill his head then he rolled

over, laughed and threw up handfuls of She crisp wet cuttings

and watched them scatter in the summer wind. 'We are free!

Free to wander in such beauty,' he cried to the other

Tunnellers spread behind him along the Greenway.

 

Oakapple smiled and straightened her back. Then she

reached for a basket of forest fruits and sweet oven cakes she

had brought for their noonday rest and sat down beside

Willow. 'It is wonderful to be in the daylight, Willow, but

sometimes the sheer size of it all terrifies me. The rolling

hills and league upon league of empty grassland that lie

beneath tills liminess sky, it all seems so vast; it must stretch

beyond for ever. It is all so different from tile darkness of the

City of Night: Here I could reach out and touch both walls

or the roof above my head with both my hands.'

 

Willow frowned and brushed his fingers on the coarse

weave of his breeches. 'How can you fear it?' he cried. 'How

can you fear a life without Nightbeasts? A life in this beautiful

light, His is what we whispered about in tile darkness and

strove to win.'

 

'Yes, yes,' Oakapple answered, her voice full of confusion.

'Of course I love the light, Willow, but sometimes it makes

 

132

 

me seem so small and vulnerable, a mere speck in tills huge

landscape with nowhere to hide.'

 

Willow's face softened as he took Oakapple's hand in his

own. 'Sometimes at night as I lie watching the stars I feel

there is a great space all around us, the empty silence that

reaches up to touch the stars is all about me and yet, as small

as it makes me feel, I rejoice to be able to see it, to smell it,

to feel it.'

 

Oakapple nodded, tightening her fingers in Willow's hand

and rested her head upon his shoulder as he continued, 'To

travel freely in all Elundium was a great gift from King

Thane, for Through our wanderings we shall see everything

that the Elders painted with words in the darkness and one

daylight, I know, we will find the place that Krulshards stole

us from.- I know in my heart that somewhere in the Elders'

stories there was a picture of our home.'

 

Willow fell silent and stared out across the sun-bleached

grassland. Frowning, he shaded his eyes against the glare and

rose to his feet. 'Hush!' he whispered. 'There are groups of

Warriors in the grasslands. Marchers spread in rough order

as far as I can see.'

 

'Warriors?' queried Oakapple, quickly gathering up the

food she had set out for Heir rest. 'Surely the great bathe

crescents were all disbanded at King Thane's crowning?'

 

Willow nodded gravely, gathering Starlight's reins as he

crouched down and signalled to the other Tunnellers to

follow him. 'Rumour tells that only those who refused to

pledge or take Thane as the rightful King of Elundium roam

battle ready through the forest and wildlands near Mantern's

Mountain I did not think they would dare to come this near

to the Granite City.'

 

'Perhaps they travel in secret, well clear of the-Greenways,'

whispered Oakapple moving closer to Willow.

 

'Well, whoever they are let us move out of sight until they

have passed by. Take cover in those tangle tree thickets

beyond the far side of the road. Quickly, run!'

 

133

 

With less sound than the wind whispering through the tall

grass the Tunnellers fled across the Greenways and disappeared

under the low, armoured, spiked branches of the

tangle trees. The tramp of marching feet grew louder, the

rattle of battle harness, mingling with shouts and curses,

seemed to be almost on top of them. Willow drew the small

splinter of steel that served him as a dagger and crouched,

ready. His hands were damp with sweat; the short breaths

rasped in his throat.

 

'We will stand and fight. I will send Starlight to Thane to

warn him of these warriors. We will fight to bring her time.'

 

Willow turned and passed the message to the Tunnellers

standing beside him. 'Use your scythes and hoes as weapons.

Remember we will be defending Thane who gave us the

freedom of the Greenways.'

 

Closer and closer drew the Warriors. They were now

almost at the Greenways' edge, trampling the long grasses

beneath their armoured boots. Willow rose and began to strip

off Starlight's saddle and bridle but Oakapple tugged at his

sleeve. 'Listen,' she hissed, 'there is fear in their voices, they

are trying to turn away from the Greenway.'

 

'Put your ear to the ground and listen; it sounds as if the

earth is being torn apart,' urged Willow.

 

Oakapple knelt and pressed her ear to the bare earth,

shuddered and quickly pulled away. 'I can hear burrowing

and digging in the ground,' she whispered. 'And voices in the

distance - some must have escaped.'

 

When all was quiet again Willow slowly led Starlight out

from beneath the dense thicket of tangle trees.

 

Oakapple ducked down and made to follow Willow through

the narrow gap, only to bump into him and Starlight. Looking

up she cried out in terror and covered her eyes. Before them

in one neat row ancient oaks, elms and cedar trees stood

statue-still, rooted on the Greenways' edge. Lichen and ivy

creepers hung in chaotic loops from their twisted, weathered

boughs while overhead, shading the road, leathery leaves

 

134

 

;

 

/

 

.j

 

spun in the summer wind, whispering as they rubbed

together.

 

'In all Elundium . . . this is the greatest magic that I have

ever seen,' gasped Willow taking a slow step forwards.

 

'It must be bad magic, trees did not grow like this in the

Elder's tales,' called out one of the Tunnellers emerging

from the thicket of tangle trees.

 

Willow thought for a moment, laughed and resheathed his

dagger. 'Is everything we cannot explain called magic? Perhaps

all trees grow from grim-faced warriors, perhaps they

carry the seedlings within them and only start to grow once

they reach the places they are meant to stand. Just because

this wasn't in the Elder's tales doesn't mean it isn't the way

of things in Elundium.

 

'Who amongst us has seen a tree grow since we entered

the daylight?' he asked turning to the others.

 

'I think these trees are in some way tied up with the

Magician's curses on the warriors who would not have Thane

as their King. In the Elder's tales he built each tree, leaf and

branch, with the tiny point of light he kept hidden from the

Nightbeasts,' answered Oakapple fearfully. 'I always thought

trees grew like that, spreading out from their centre.'

 

Willow laughed and again nodded his head. 'If these are

magic trees grown from the rebellious warriors then we need

not fear them for the Magician said that they were to wait

and grow wise beside the Greenways' edge until Thane called

 

for them.'

 

Slowly, one by one, the remaining Tunnellers emerged

from their hiding places and nodded in agreement, whispering

to each other about the wonders of Elundium.

 

'Walk amongst them,' called Willow, 'and listen to their

whisperings, for they may tell us much of the land we wander

in.'

 

'What of the Warriors who fled back into the grasslands?'

called an anxious voice. 'Might they return and attack us?'

They resolved to move warily.

 

135

 

Willow chose a dozen of the strongest Tunnellers and

crept carefully between tile trees. 'Feel their trunks,' he called

quiedy, 'they are still soft and warm from their rapid growdl.

This one even throbs as if it has a heart.'

 

'This one moves at my touch. Look, it trembles and sways,'

laughed a Tunneller as he prodded at a tree trunk twenty

paces from where Willow was standing.

 

'Treat them carefully,' willow cried in dismay. 'Their roots

are only moments old and still tender to the touch. Treat

Hem with great care.'

 

Moving off She Greenway Willow slipped between two

close-grown trunks into the grassland and beyond. Kneeling,

he examined the trampled ground and saw everywhere

broken or bruised stalks of grass, but amongst the trampling

he saw discarded swords and spears, cloaks and crude sacks

of meal, all thrown in ragged disorder just beyond the furthest

leaf span of the new trees. Moving through tile warriors' litter

he searched for signs of Heir path, footprints that would

show him which way they had travelled but they were too

muddled for him to follow. Quickly he called die other

Tunnellers back on to He Greenway and "athered diem into

a circle.

 

'It would seem that She warriors who did not touch the

Greenways' edge are gone,' he announced. 'Vanishing, I

should drink, by the same way that they came.'

 

'How can you be sure?' asked Oakapple, peering Through

the trees.

 

'I cannot, but I am sure that if they are cursed with

Nevian's magic then they will soon cross the Greenway and

turn into trees. You cannot travel in Elundium without

meeting a road.'

 

Willow's voice trailed into silence as he stared up at the

branches that high-arched the road. For all his bold talk of

magic trees he wasn't at all sure how much he could really

trust them. There was somediing different about these trees.

The way they whispered and seemed to watch, perhaps they

 

136

 

would reach down and kill his people, perhaps ... He

laughed to dispel the fear forming in his mind. 'Let us treat

these beautiful trees with great care and garden the Greenways'

edge between their knobbly roots, and make this road

fit for the King to use,' he called, stepping boldly forwards.

 

Oakapple sighed with relief and followed the rest of the

Tunnellers between the trees. She secrecy welcomed the

swathes of shadow that crisscrossed the road with the patterns

of black lace, for it gave her pale skin a chance to rest from

the burning sun. Snipping and clipping she moved happily

forwards, singing softly of the beautiful daylight that spread

out across the empty grasslands on either side of the

Greenway.

 

Willow paused beside her and followed her gaze. 'One

daylight,' he whispered, 'we will find the place the Nightmare

stole us from. I know it.'

 

Oakapple smiled at him, her eyes filling with pride. 'The

Elder planted the seeds of daylight in all of us, but in you,

Willow, they took root and grew strong enough to make you

fight for our freedom. If Here is a place for us you will find

it.'

 

Willow laughed and put his arm around her shoulders,

pointing across the vast landscape to faint crystal-tipped

peaks painted along the horizon's rim. 'Do you see chose

mountains?' he asked.

 

Oakapple crinkled her eyes, shading them against the sun

and slowly nodded. 'Yes, but they are as faint brush strokes

washed against the skyline. They shimmer in the heat haze,

appearing then disappearing.'

 

'Well, if you cast your mind back into the darkness,

Oakapple, right back to those tight whispering circles we

formed at the Elder's feet you will see it just as clearly as I

 

do. The cascading waterfalls, the steep pine-clad slopes

shrouded in morning mist, the still pools of crystal water

reflecting a thousand flower-covered hills. It was all there in

the pictures he painted, so clear, so strong that I can almost

 

137

 

smell She nectar and hear the wind amongst the pines. But

sometimes, like chose distant mountains, the picture shimmers

and disappears.'

 

Oakapple sighed sadly and leaned against him. 'The Elder

was lost in She darkness, lost until Nevian found him and

showed him all the wonders of tile daylight. He cannot have

known where the Nightmare stole us from.'

 

Willow turned on her, angrily pulling away. 'The magician

must have shown him. How else would I know about the

place I am searching for? Where else would the half-shown

glimpses so lovingly woven into the Elder's pictures have

come from?'

 

Oakapple bit her lip and wished she had not voiced her

doubts. Above her head the new leathery leaves began to

rusde, sending urgent whispers backwards and forwards

along the Greenways' edge. Willow looked up at the noise,

looked up into the canopy of moving branches and smiled,

his anger forgotten. 'They know,' he laughed. 'I can hear it

in Heir voices. They have seen the place of our beginnings.'

 

He listened for a while. 'The trees talk of stone-broken

ruins on a steep hillside and tumbling bracken banks along

the water's edge.' Willow ran between the trees and stared

out at the distant mountains. 'If the trees could move they

would lead us. Listen.' He paused a moment. 'They talk now

of World's End and the sheer walls of Underfall.'

 

Oakapple frowned. All she could hear was the wind

whispering through the leaves, there were no voices or places

in the rustling. But then Willow had always been a little

different, he had heard voices in the City of Night. Starlight

and the great black Warhorse had talked to him in the

darkness and it had led to their winning the daylight.

 

She nodded her head in reluctant agreement. 'Yes, yes!'

she murmured. 'The trees will tell us which road to take.

Perhaps we should follow their voices and garden the Greenway

towards Underfall.'

 

138

 

A Fast Ride to Clatterford

 

Eventine stretched, yawned and opened her eyes to the faint

glow of dawn spreading across the grasslands. Shivering, she

rose, gathered her cloak about her shoulders and knelt beside

Kyot. 'The grey hours are upon us,' she whispered, gently

shaking his shoulder. 'It is time to ride on towards

Clatterford.'

 

Kyot mumbled, pulling his cloak collar up over his chin

then he slowly opened his eyes. 'Eventine,' he whispered,

smiling and reaching out for her hand, 'each morning you

shine more beautiful than the sun. Each . . .'

 

Eventine smiled and put her finger on his lips silencing

him. 'It is time,' she insisted, leaning forwards to pluck the

arrows he had placed in the cold earth beside his saddle as

an arrowstand. 'We must ride on to Clatterford.'

 

Kyot sat up and looked out of their temporary resting

place, past the silent sleeping Archers huddled in their

blankets, out across the endless grasslands to where he knew

the sky still held on to She indigo colours of She night.

'Morning will not yet have come to Clatterford,' he answered,

stretching his arms. 'The peacocks win still be asleep.'

 

Eventine frowned impatiendy and stood up. 'If we leave

now and gallop tirelessly with the new sun we could reach my

father's house before night falls.'

 

Kyot smiled and swept his hand across the sleeping

Archers. 'What of the Archers? They cannot keep pace with

 

139

 

Sprint and Tanglecrown, we would leave them leagues

behind.'

 

'Rockspray could watch over them,' she replied. 'He is a

sharp-eyed bird of war and . . .'

 

Kyot shook his head. 'No, the Archers of Stumble Hill

have run themselves into shadows with your haste, we will

not leave them now that we are less than one daylight from

Clatterford. Why, early yesterlight we saw groups of grim

Marchers by the horizon's edge and only warriors not pledged

to the King travel as they did, armed and baffle ready.'

 

'But they scattered when they saw our Archer strike.

Surely . . .'

 

Kyot laughed harshly. 'And today, seeing only two of us,

fools galloping through the grasslands, they would attack. No,

they may have fled only to gather more warriors against us;

we must travel together.'

 

Eventine walked out past the waking Archers and called to

Tanglecrown. Turning back, she glared at Kyot with glittering

eyes. 'It is not the Marchers nor the wandering Nightbeasts

that I fear, but each daylight hour we waste could put

my father in greater danger. I was for fast riding, just the two

of us, to reach my father's house before those ancient trees

invaded Clatterford. What if they already surround~the

Crystal Hall?'

 

Kyot frowned and bent to collect his saddle. Now he

understood Eventine's impatience with every slow start and,

break to rest. Perhaps he had been wrong to insist on a strike

of Archers accompanying them to Clatterford. Rockspray

hooted and stooped down through the chill morning air,

breaking into his thoughts as he settled on Kyot's shoulder.

 

'Well, great Bird of War,' he whispered, lifting a hand to

stroke the owl's soft chest feathers. 'What would you have me ~

do, leave the safety of the Archers to your sharp eyes and 4.

gallop on to Clatterford, or stay here marshalling the men of

 

Stumble Hill and moving forwards with caution?'

 

Rockspray held Kyot's gaze for a moment, blinked once

 

140

 

,

 

t

 

I .

 

i

'

 

1

 

l

 

.

 

i

 

.]

 

']

 

A]

 

e]

 

:~

1

,..

 

and rose, hooting, into the strengthening sunlight. He flew in

a wide circle around their makeshift resting place as if he

were searching the tall grasses.

 

'There, you see it!' Evantine cried. 'Even Rockspray agrees

we should ride on to Clatterford. Look he is casting all about

us for danger - he will watch over the Archers. Now, will you

 

ride with me to Clanerford?'

 

Kyot laughed, the burden of choice lifted from his shoulders

and he snatched up the Bow of Orm. 'Archers!' he

cried, shouting the strike awake as he placed his saddle upon

Sprint's back. 'Follow our tracks through the long grass to

Clatterford. Travel battle ready with new-forged arrows

necked on to your bows and keep a sharp ear cocked for

Rockspray's warning, for he will watch over your road.'

 

Eventine sighed with relief, tightened her girths and

quickly mounted. 'We will meet again at Clatterford,' she

shouted, pirouetting Tanglecrown and cantering out into the

beginnings of the new morning.

 

Sprint snatched at the bridle and leapt forwards' neighing

fiercely as he followed the Lord of Stags. Kyot looked back

once and lifted his hand to wave to the assembled Archers

before the tall grasses swallowed him up. Drawing level with

Tanglecrown, Kyot reached across and took Eventine's hand.

'We will ride without rest,' he shouted above the thunder of

their hooves, 'and race the sun to Clatterford.'

 

Eventine smiled and shouted something back but it was

lost, tugged away from them in the roaring winds as they

surged forwards.

 

'Trees!' laughed Fairday. 'Ancient trees that spring up at a

momentts notice along the Greenways' edge? Never, never in

all the legends, all the lore ... Look to the ford, to the

boundaries of Clatterford, there is nothing out of place. Ask

me about Nightbeasts and roving bands of warriors, armed

and battle ready, but trees . . .'

 

'Yes, Father, trees!' Eventine cried, loosing the girths on

 

141

 

Tanglecrown's lathered sides. 'We rode without rest, we

feared you might be under siege.'

 

'We?' queried Fairday, climbing to the highest crystal step

of the house of Clatterford and peering out across the ford

into the last shades of daylight.

 

'Kyot is a league behind me. He had to dismount and run

at Sprint's stirrup. Sprint was stumbling with weariness and

would have fallen.'

 

Fairday frowned and took his daughter's hands. 'Fear

indeed must have driven you to ride this hard across the wild

grasslands. Tell me . . .'

 

Fast running hoofbeats sounded beyond the tall yew hedge

that bordered the forge, the peacocks rustled their feathers

and cried out to the rising moon. Kyot splashed through the

ford and ran exhausted on to the lawn. Sprint snorted and

halted beside him, his heaving sides showing white-frothed

with sweat in the moonlight. 'There are no trees!' Kyot cried

between laboured breaths. 'Clatterford is safe.'

 

Eventine ran to him, loosing the cloak clasp at his throat,

taking his bow and heavily loaded quiver. 'Yes,' she answered

with relief, putting her hand on the reins and stripping off

Sprint's bridle.

 

Fairday laughed, embracing them both and called for fresh

lamps in the Crystal Hall as he led them in out of the chill

evening air. 'Rest, shake the dust from your cloaks, eat now

and be refreshed and then by tomorrowlight we will talk more

of wild warriors and magic trees.'

 

The daylights at Clatterford seemed to blend one into

another but each evening time saw Kyot and Eventine walking

the lawns and telling tales of Elundium across the siren t

carpet of grass. A

 

Then one night, as they watched the last rays of the sun

disappear, hoolbeats sounded beyond the ford. Fairday came

out of the house, calling out the Archers, clapping his hands

for his Candlemen to bring more light on to the lawns. Kyot

took up his bow and quickly necked an arrow on to the string

 

142

 

3

 

~ .

 

'Who dares to enter Clatterford without my leave?' cried

Fairday, stepping on to the lawns and spreading his skywashed

cloak to shield Eventine and Kyot. 'Stay still,' he

commanded Kyot, motioning him back behind the cloak. 'I

am the Master of Clatterford and it is my place to defend the

house and all who are in it.'

 

The hoofbeats sounded closer, battle harness jingled in

the falling darkness and a strong voice laughed beyond the

ford. 'What welcome is this between old friends!'

 

Fairday let the cloak hem fall to the ground and took a step

towards the ford. 'Thunders/one!' he cried as two figures

emerged from the shadows and cantered in a white surge of

spray through the ford.

 

Thunderstone laughed again and reined his horse to a halt

then dismounted beside the crystalmaker of Clatterford. 'And

Errant the messenger is with me. Well met. Well met beyond

an age of suns and daylights!' he shouted, embracing Fairday,

lifting him clear of the lawn and spinning him round.

 

Fairday laughed, gripping Thunderstone's arms as he

regained his balance on the ground. He searched the aged

wrinkled face before him. 'You wear well, last Lampmaster

of Elundium,' he whispered, 'for one who has striven to keep

the light in a world of shadows.'

 

Thunderstone laughed. 'Age falls from me with each

daylight. The new King makes me young again for he lifted

my burden and gave my old bones a rest from chasing

Nightbeasts. Errant, Errant, come forward and meet the

Master of the glass arrowblades that destroyed the

 

Nightmare.'

 

'Lord!' Errant whispered, stepping into the light and

bending his knee. The Glassmaker shook his head and pulled

Errant to his feet. 'Kings are for kneeling to, Errant. I did no

more than you to rid Elundium of the Nightmare and

probably risked less forging glass arrowheads here in the

safety of Clatterford while you galloped through great danger

to raise a mighty army along the Greenways' edge.'

 

143

 

aErrant raised his eyebrows. 'You have heard of all thaœ~

 

Passed at Underfall?'

 

r -'

 

Litde passes the sharpness of an Archer's eye,' replied

Fairday, linking his arms with chose of Eventine and Kyot and

bringing diem into the ring of bright torchlight. 'The" two are

my ears and eyes and tell me much that troubles my mind.'

 

'All Elundium be praised!' Thunderstone cried, taking

Eventine's hand and kissing it gendy.

 

'I have fretted with each daylight since I left the Tower of

Stumble Hill that I might miss you on the road,' laughed Errant,

gripping Kyot's arm. 'I have been searching for you with news,

glad tidings of King Thane's wedding ties, but we must put

wings on the horses' feet if we are to reach theGranite City by

the fortieth daylight. The Archers of Stumble Hill told me of

your journey to rescue Fairday from the ancient trees that

suddenly appeared beside your Wayhouse.'

 

Kyot shivered, hunching his shoulders against the dark

ness. 'There is a magic, somedling dark and ominous about

chose trees.'

 

'Come, it is rare to have so many guests in this far-flung

corner of Elundium. Eat with us and be refreshed,' broke i.

Fairday, clapping his hands for the servers to throw open du

doors. 'There are no magic trees at Clatterford. Come sit a' my

table and tell me more of the Nightmare's death, and thy

crowning of Thanehand. Let nodling be left out in the tell forget

these magic trees!' ~

 

'You knew, long before, he would be King,' Kyot remend

bered, suddenly turning in astonishment as Fairday led th

 

way into the Crystal Hall. A The Glassmaker laughed. 'It was

there, my child. Kingship shone brighter than the fire in my

forge. Fate was merge tempering him on a hard anvil. Did I not

say to Eventine did

 

she must find two travellers worn to rags and that

 

Elundium would fade if she passed them by?'

 

'But . . . but he and I were as brothers and yet I first so

 

144

 

his destiny only in chose last moments as he destroyed the

Nightmare.'

 

Fairday stopped, turned and took Kyot's hand. 'Perhaps Fate

needed your blindness to grow the bond of love between you.

How would you have served him had you known that he

would be King? Could you then have shared the danger, or

shared the same shadow, or drunk from the same bowl?'

 

Kyot looked away, remembering how he had knelt after the

crowning, offering up his bow and quiver and calling Thane

'my Lord', and 'great King', and how it had angered Thane. And

how their love had grown thin and stretched by the time they

had reached the Tower on Stumble Hill and Thane had been

quick to agree to his staying as the new Keeper of the

Wayhouse Tower. But in that last moment as they had stood

together between the great wooden doors, Thane had wept

and called him brodler and begged him to come soon to Granite

City. Kyot blinked and shook his head, scattering the memory

and seeing clearly the truth in Fairday's words.

 

'One daylight,' Fairday whispered, releasing Kyot's hand,

'Thane may once again need that bond you forged upon the

road to Underfall, and you, daughter, you might yet be his

bowmaiden for there is still an unsung song in the Bows of

Orm and Clatterford.'

 

Thunderstone and Errant nodded in agreement with

Fairday's foresight and took their places at the long table,

glittering with fluted cups and shell-shaped bowls. They

placed their hands around his delicate crystal finger bowls set

out before them and brought them to their lips. 'To our Great

King!' they cried together.

 

Fairday laughed and reached for his tall stemmed glass.

'Surely you should honour the King with a proper cup and not

with the finger bowls?'

 

Thunderstone smiled and touched the Crystalmaker's arm. 'I

thought all Elundium knew of the story of the finger bowl, of

how Elionbel sent hers as a love token wid1 Errant into the

 

145

 

shadows of World's End for Thane to keep close to his heart

and how in the darkness of despair it bound them together.'

 

'And shone ever bright in the marsh mud,' interrupted

Eventine, sipping from her finger bowl. 'Without its glittering

silver light we would have passed Thane by.'

 

'It is a sign, a symbol of everyone's love of Thane and

Elionbel,' added Thunderstone, pushing back the fold of his

blue cloak and lifting up a tiny silver bowl hanging from his

belt by a fine silver chain.

 

Fairday laughed and leaned forwards. 'There seems to be

much that my sharp-eyed Archers have forgotten to tell a

simple glassblower. To the King and the fair Lady Elionbel!'

he cried, lifting his finger bowl to his lips and sipping at the

sweet scented water. 'Now tell me all that has come to pass

since Thane left this house on his dark road to Kingship.'

 

New morning's light had touched the roof of Clatterford

before the story of Thane's triumph over the Nightmare was

fully told, and the peacocks had heralded the new sun with

haunting cries before Fairday rose from his chair.

 

'Trees!' he muttered, pacing the eating hall. 'Trees that

spring up along the Greenways' edge. They sound strange

indeed.'

 

'King Thane would not have us harm them,' Errant

answered. 'At least not until we know more about them.'

 

'That is the advice of a wise King,' Thunderstone interrupted. '

Much as I fear there is dark magic in these trees, l

am more troubled by the bands of warriors that would nol

pledge themselves to Thane. They are seen everywhere yet

they vanish again in the blink of an eye.'

 

'Yes! Yes!' called Fairday turning to Thunderstone. 'All

along the borders of Clatterford I have seen them but does

flee if I challenge Hem, scattering as chaff in a strong wind.'

 

Errant nodded. 'On the road through Meremire I sad

them amongst the ancient trees, almost upon the Greenwich

but as I looked back they had gone and more of chose strangi

trees were crowding in their places on the road.' i

 

146

 

;

i!

 

'Their whispering chills my heart!' Eventine said, sh~vernig

and pulling her cloak more tightly about her shoulders.

 

'Well,' called out Errant striding to the doors and throwing

them open to let in the new daylight. 'If these unpledged

warriors keep vanishing, the sooner we are rid of them the

faster will be our road, for now we must ride with the wind

or miss the King's wedding ties.'

 

'You will come with us, Father?' Eventine cried, turning to

him.

 

Fairday laughed. 'My King calls me, child, he summons

everyone to be in Granite City by the fortieth daylight.'

 

147

 

Prodded on by Kruel's impatience, Kerzolde muttered and

cursed to himself, and led them back through the swirling

mists and barren broken countryside into the echoing culvert

that drained the sewers of Underfal1.

 

'Beneath that fortress lies the tombs of the Kings,' he

hissed, pointing with his broken claw.

 

Kruel shook himself dry and climbed up the steep slope of

the dyke that lay in the shadows of the fortress of Underfall.

Grimacing, he picked at the raw flesh on his upper arm and

waited for the night to fall. 'Where are the warriors?' he

hissed into Kerzolde's ear. 'Where are those guardians of the

bright Lamp that shines across the Causeway Field?'

 

Arbel coughed and shivered below them in the wet slime

at the bottom of the dyke.

 

'Quiet!' snarled Kerhunge, clamping his clawed hand

across the Marcher's mouth and pushing him deeper into the

mire. 'The cursed warriors will hear you!'

 

Arbel struggled, reaching for his dagger: now he would kill

the ugly Nightbeast, now was the moment.

 

'Stop!' hissed Kruel, freezing them both with his voice as

he watched the huge doors slowly begin to close, rumbling

and bumping their way across the cobbles. Somewhere far

away in the tangled undergrowth of Mantern's Forest a dog

barked, while just beyond the sheer granite-grey walls of

Underfall, ancient trees whispered and rustled on the Greenways'

edge.

 

The Darkness Enters the Palace of Kings

 

148

 

Darkness had fallen, the last shades of evening faded

beneath a bright canopy of stars. 'Follow me now!' whispered

Kruel slipping over the edge of the dyke and moving noiselessly

through the shadows to the base of the wall. He spread

his slender fingers and touched the cold granite, feeling the

smoothness rubbed there by a thousand nightbeast claws. 'I

hear you,' he whispered, smiling in the darkness. 'I hear your

screams and see your beautiful shadows but I will take this

place for you without one shout.'

 

'What, Master?' hissed Kerzolde, running to Kruel's side

and leaving a trail of foul-smelling slime from the lip of the

dyke into the shadows of the wall. Kerhunge and Arbel

followed quickly, pushing and snarling at each other.

 

'Quietl Quiet!' snapped Kruel, pulling them both roughly

against the cold granite. 'Stay still and watch for the warriors

while I release the shadow rats.'

 

Arbel turned and crouched down on the close-cropped

turf to stare out across the Causeway Field. 'Look!' he

whispered, touching Kruel's arm and pointing with a dirty

finger. 'There is something moving between those old twisted

trees.'

 

Kruel turned and stared through the darkness, searching

each leaf and branch, following the distorted bark patterns

across the ruined thunder-shaken trunks. 'Branches move in

the wind, nothing more!' snapped Kruel impatiently.

 

'But there is no wind,' answered Arbel in a hushed whisper.

 

Kruel shrugged his shoulders. 'We have nothing to fear

from these trees, let them watch the beginnings of my power.'

 

Turning back to the wall, Kruel dangled two shadow rats

by their tails against the cold granite. 'Find a way,' he

whispered, stroking their brittle black fur. 'Find a crack or

hole and creep into the fortress of Underfall. Bite the

Gateman with my darkness, whisper in his ear to open the

gates.'

 

Kruel placed the rats on the sheer wall and pushed them

up towards the lowest gallery that showed in blackest shadows

 

149

 

aagainst the star-filled sky above their heads. Squeaking and

scratching, the rats ran backwards and forwards searching for

a clawhold on the smoodmess of the granite.

 

'They cannot scale the wall, Master,' hissed Kerzolde. 'It is

too smooch and as slippery as crystal.'

 

Kruel spat at the ground and raked his finger nails across

the granite, gouging deep plough lines in the hard grey stone.

 

'Master!' Kerhunge hissed in wonder, touching the deep

grooves in She wall. 'You could pull tills fortress apart with

your bare hands!'

 

Kruel laughed quiedy and reached up, cutting more finger

grooves, hand over hand his arms stretched grotesquely in the

starlight, reaching far beyond their normal span until his

fingertips touched rough granite.

 

Somedling was watching between the trees, Arbel could

sense it and it made his flesh crawl. Turning to Kruel, he

gasped to see his arms stretching flat against the wall,

disappearing into the shadows above.

 

'There is always a way,' whispered Kruel, trembling with

effort. 'Kerhunge's way would shout our purpose clear across

Elundium, but who will notice a few scratches on the wall?'

Laughing, he drew down his arms, put the rats back on the wall

and pushed their sharp black claws into the first groove.

 

'I will seach the trees,' whispered Arbel, drawing a dagger. 'I

am sure that somedling is watching us.'

 

'There was not a single tree standing beside She Greenway

when we escaped into the Shadowlands,' hissed Kerzolde.

 

'Take care,' whispered Kruel, his pale eyes flushed bloodred

in the starlight. 'Creep in secret.'

 

Arbel quiedy crossed She dyke and crept on all fours into

the shadows of the ancient trees. He rose slowb, dagger

gripped ready and took one step. He stopped, frozen in fear.

The trees had crowded together, their trunks less than a

hand's span apart, Heir branches wridling overhead and

snaking down towards him. Everywhere whispers ran through

the night, bark creaked and age-bent boughs groaned,

 

150

 

leathery leaves rushed and reached out to touch his face.

'Cursed trees!' he snarled, slashing at the nearest trunk, cutting

deeply into the bark. The tree shook, a mumed groaning split

She night silence. Lichen-covered branches struck out,

knocking the dagger out of Arbel's hand. Turning him and

tumbling him out across the Causeway Road they threw him

roughly on to the Causeway Field.

 

'Quiet!' hissed Kruel, his voice stopping Arbel from

renewing his attack on the trees, calling him back into the

shadows of the sheer granite wall.

 

'There is magic in chose trees,' cursed Arbel, rubbing at his

bruises as he leaned against the wall.

 

'Leave the trees,' snapped Kruel, 'they are nothing but

ancient stands of timber. You can burn them to the ground

when all Elundium is under my darkness. Now, watch the the

doors and wait for the shadow rats to do their work.'

 

Willow had followed the voices of the trees, taking his people

back into the shadows of Underfall, now he slowly let the

breath out of his lungs and dared to look again. Shaking with

fear and wretched with despair, he lifted his head above the

gnarled roots of the ancient trees and watched the black rats

search along the casements and disappear into the lowest

galleries. 'The Nightmare's darkness is not destroyed,' he

whispered to Oakapple. 'That boy is a part of Krulshards. Look

at his eyes: they shine blood-red, the dead locks of hair and

skinless flesh on his upper arm speak of the Nightmare, but

there is something about him - the face, the shape of the law.

And that huge Marcher that attacked the trees. There is

something about him that I recognize.'

 

'The one-clawed beast is Kerzolde,' whispered Oakapple

 

trembling. 'I would know that nightbeast anywhere.'

 

'Kerzolde with a Marcher and a young boy who has the

look of Krulshards,, muttered Willow.

 

'Well, at least those trees defended us,' whispered the

Tunneller crouching beside Willow.

 

151

 

aWillow smiled and nodded, putting his finger to his lips and

motioning to the others to keep silent and perfectly still. He

reached out and touched the treetrunkArbel had cut into and

felt the hot bark trembling beneath his fingertips. A stifled cry

from within the fortress of Underfall made them duck down out

of sight behind the tree roots.

 

'What was that?' gasped Oakapple, clinging on to Willow's

arm.

 

Slowly, he gathered his courage to look out again and saw

that the great doors of Underfall were moving on their hinges,

rocking backwards and forwards. The Nightmare boy was now

standing before the doors with his hands on his hips as if

waiting, with a gloat of victory spread across his face. Beside

him the Marcher stood, sword drawn, while the Nightbeasts

crouched in the doorposts' shadows ready to strike. The doors

opened letting a crack of light spill across the Causeway. Two

black rats scuttled out over the cobbles and ran up the boy's

outstretched hands. Laughing crueLly,~ he crossed the patch of

light and disappeared into the fortress of Underfall. The

Marcher followed, beckoning to the blight beast to follow him.

The doors rattled and swung shut, nigh silence once more

descended on the empty Causeway.

 

Willow watched for long moments, searching every shadow

carefully before he rose to his feet. 'Wait with Starlight,' he

whispered to Oakapple. 'Wait while we search the Causeway

Road before the Great Doors. I must find out who Kerzolde'

companions were.'

 

'No!' hissed Oakapple. 'It is too dangerous. Stay with m.

Stay . . .'

 

But his fingers untwined from hers and Willow had gone to

slip noiselessly between the trees, gathering Cedarbranc and

another Tunneller to go with him.

 

'Not one sound,' he murmured to the others crossing If

Causeway Road and putting his hands on the sheer granite

walls, feeling for the marks the boy had made.

 

'Nightmare!' he whispered, letting the word hiss throu

 

152

 

his teeth as his eyes widened. 'Something more powerful than

Krulshards was here. Feel these grooves, they are still hot to

the touch.'

 

'What could carve through granite as though it were as soft

as rotten cheese?' asked Cedarbranch touching the hot grey

stone fearfully.

 

'What indeed?' answered Willow, creeping on tiptoe into the

centre of the Causeway. Pausing, he frowned and pushed his

hand against the huge wooden doors of Underfall. They gave

at his touch, creaking open across the cobbles. Willow

shivered and stepped back a pace. He stared into the dark

empty courtyards.

 

'Whole armies of Nightbeasts once washed against these

doors and could not enter. Look how they smoothed and

polished these tree-thick planks of wood, yet that boy entered

effortlessly.'

 

'There was a cry from within the fortress,' whispered

Cedarbranch, moving to Willow's side.

 

'Yes, it was the Gateman,' answered Willow in the slightest

whisper, pointing to a black figure kneeling on the cobbles just

inside the doors, its white eyes staring out blindly across the

Causeway Field. 'No, do not touch him!' he hissed, grabbing

both Tunnellers by their sleeves and pushing them roughly

into the shadows beside the doors. 'Whatever has attacked the

Gateman may take you too if you go too close to him.'

 

Cedarbranch shuddered. 'Those staring eyes and blackened

bulging tongue!'

 

'He looks like a winter tree,' whispered the other Tunneller.

'All his blood lines are etched black beneath his skin

 

'He is consumed by darkness, it races through his blood.

 

Look! Look, he smiles and laughs, shutting his eyes,'

whispered Cedarbranch.

 

Willow watched the kneeling figure for a moment then

slowly drew his dagger blade and let the starlight flash on the

bright metal, sending a beam of light across the Gateman's

 

153

 

face. Bending, he scooped up a handful of loose granite

chippings and cast them across the entrance. 'He is blind and

deaf to us.'

 

Cedarbranch laughed nenously, moving back on to the

Causeway to stare at the trembling figure. Willow grabbed

the TunneDer's arm and again pulled him away. 'Stay clear

of the Gateman, and watch the gates,' he hissed forcefully. 'I

must follow those black Nighbeasts into the fortress of

Underfall and find out their purpose. Wait here until the grey

hours herald the new morning. If I have not returned by then

take our people and find a place of safety, somewhere high

and away from the shadows.'

 

'Willow, Willow,' both Tunnellers whispered hoarsely, but

he was gone, moving noiselessly, running from shadow to

shadow, his large round eyes opened wide against the darkness.

At the entrance to the vaults he paused, feeling with his

fingertips on the top of the first step. There were damp

footprints and claw marks that stank of slime from the dyke.

He shivered and wished he had a stoop of Battle Owls or

savage Border Runners at his side. Willow carefully

descended into the blackness. On each step he paused and

turned his shell-shaped ears from left to right; ahead of him

voices laughed and cursed. It sounded as if the intruders

were searching for something. Willow crept fearfulb, feeling

his way amongst the petrified statues of the stone kings. Faint

starlight showed through the window he had opened before

King Holbian's stone throne. He could see the King's headand

the two stone owls carved in his headrest stark-black

against the night sky, and before him, the intruders.

 

'Granite Kings,' snarled Kerzolde, spitting in King Holbi

an's face and raising his mace to batter at the stone crown

resting on his head.

 

Arbel laughed and struck at the King's hands, shattering:

his ancient fingers with one blow. The heavy stone sword

 

visted free of the Kin~'s broken fingers and fell, toppling

 

154

 

against Arbel's arm, sheering through his armour and cutting

him to the bone.

 

'Curse the daylight! Curse you, Granite King!' he shouted,

dropping to his knees and struggling to strip the armour from

his damaged arm.

 

Kruel laughed and knelt beside him. He pinched at the

wound, sealing it in an ugly red weal. 'You are not yet strong

enough, my brother, to do battle with Granite Kings, even

dead ones. Stand back and watch me.'

 

Kruel reached out and took the mace from Kerzolde,

wetting its brutal blunt end with his tongue. 'Watch!' he

snarled. Looking down at King Holbian's feet, he raised the

mace and began swinging it in a savage arc.

 

'Father,' he cried, suddenly seeing the Nightmare's head

and letting the mace fly from his hands to smash against the

far wall in a shower of granite splinters.

 

He fell on to his knees and looked at the smashed remains

of Krulshards' head, the lank wisps of dead locks, the blind

staring red eyes and shrivelled strips of rotten flesh. 'Father,'

he whispered, hot tears spiring down his face.

 

Kerzolde knelt down beside him and hooked his one good

claw behind the severed head, pulling it with all his strength,

trying to free it from beneath the King's armoured boot.

 

'Enough! Leave it!' snarled Kruel. The hot tears had dried

into blinding anger, the centre of his head burned and

throbbed with pain. His skin was becoming taut; he was

sweDing, growing, just as he had done in the hollow. He

reached with one of his fingernails into the ridge of skin on

the top of his head and tore the skin apart. Eager to be rid of

it he peeled and pulled, shaking his head from side to side.

WiDow gasped in terror and sank down to his knees amongst

the shadows of the Granite Kings. Wide-eyed with horror he

watched Kruel become blood-slippery in the starlight as he

discarded his skin and shook out his new locks of hair, white

 

blond hair that shone with the crackle of hoar frost on bitter

winter grass.

 

155

 

Kruel laughed, blind to his watcher, his eyes glowing with

the fire of darkness as he squatted down before the Granite

King. Greedily he began devouring the large handfuls of

empty skin, eager to cover the raw sinews and bulging

bunches of muscles hanging from his arms and legs. He had

grown again and seemed to fill the tomb. A shadow rat fell

from the pocket of his breeches and scuttled unnoticed across

the rough granite floor into the shadows of the statues where

Willow was hiding. Kruel was paling, the new skin was

becoming firmer as it grew and thickened, drying across his

flesh. Gingerly, he touched his face, feeling for loose ends of

skin that would not meet. Arbel and the Nightbeasts crowded

round him, searching with baited breath, watching.

 

'Perfect, perfect Kruel,' shouted Arbel. 'There is not a

single blemish or mark upon your new skin. Nobody in all

Elundium would know your origin.'

 

The shadow rat moved closer to Willow, sniffing at his foot,

its brittle whiskers rattling in the darkness. Crouching back, it

struck, its yellow teeth shearing through the coarse weave of his

breeches into the soft flesh just above his ankle. Willow cried

out, striking at the black rat with his dagger as it fled, escaping

amongst the broken statues. Arbel half-rose at the cry. Kerhunge

and Kerzolde snarled and leapt across the tomb, smashing

at the stone statues as they closed on Willow.

 

Kruel laughed at them, and stretched out his hands. 'My

rats have brought another warrior into the darkness. Leave;

him, let him see the real beauty of night. Bring me the mace

that I might free my father's head from this cursed Granite

King.'

 

Once, twice Kruel swung the brutal mace above his head,

striking down savagely at King Holbian's ancient legs. Cloud

of stone dust fogged the tomb, showers of shattered ston

chips flew in every direction, the owls carved upon th

headrest shrieked out, trying to free their talons from th'

stone to claw at the mace. The two stone Border Runner

 

i]

 

156

 

Lam

 

carved into the armrests of the throne snapped and snarled

at Kruel's hands, breaking their brittle teeth on his strong

fingers. King Holbian could not withstand such a battering

and his stone crown burst into a thousand pieces as Krulshards'

severed head rocked free from beneath his armoured

boot.

 

'Father,' Kruel shouted, flinging aside the mace and

gathering up the head. Gently he stroked the ragged wisps of

dead locks and brushed out the sharp flakes of stone. 'I will

take you back into the City of Night, back into the real

darkness.'

 

Willow crouched, frozen, the blackness swallowing him,

racing through his blood, thundering in his ears. His veins

turned to indigo, his pale, almost translucent, skin was etched

with a thousand shadowy lines. He could not move; his breath

rattled and echoed far away in his throat; his fingers were

tingling with numbness; the dagger trembled and shook in

his hand as he watched, powerless to stop the destruction of

the last Granite King. Nightmare visions filled his head; he

was back in the City of Night, lost in the darkness, stumbling

through the countless black chambers choked with the forgotten

bones of his people. Nightbeasts tore at him, snapping

his fingers in their brutal claws, lashing at his bare back with

twelve-tailed iron whips. He saw the Elder's death and once

again heard his last shout as he was crushed beneath Sawed

feet. He wept hot dry tears as the severed head broke free

from King Holbian's foot and the Granite King crumbled

into nothing. The darkness was fading, his fingers ached and

burned, the joints were hideously bent and distorted where

he had gripped the dagger. He tried to rise and toppled

forwards, open-mouthed, on the rough granite floor.

 

Kruel sneered and looked for a moment at the small, still

figure lying amongst the broken statues and turned towards

the narrow crack leading into the City of Fight that Kerzolde

had lust rediscovered at the far end of the tombs. 'That

 

157

 

warrior isn't even tall enough to reach the bolts on the doors

of Underfall,' he laughed to Arbel.

 

'Leave him here, perhaps he'll grow,' answered the

Marcher, kicking Willow brutally in the side as he followed

Kruel towards the secret way into the darkness.

 

Willow lay there helplessly, listening to the silence. His

hearbeat had begun to slow; his fingers and toes were

twitching and trembling as he tried to move them. Slowly he

lifted his head and searched the tombs, watching each dark

corner with fear. The grey hours had lightened the sky,

morning was about to cast long shadows amongst the tombs

of the Granite Kings. Willow struggled with all his might t.

get up from the stone floor, knowing that Cedarbranch would

lead their people away with the new daylight and that he

would never be able to find them.

 

Faint movement sounded in the courtyard above the tombs

iron-shod feet scraped on the stone stairway. Willow held hi

breath and fought to rise, the dagger shook in his twister

blackened hands. The noises were closer now, someone wa

moving through the stone statues calling, whispering again

the strengthening daylight. A large shadow crossed toward

him. Now, now he must stand. 'By Nevian's sunlight . . .' h

cried, using the last of his strength to stagger up on to h

knees.

 

Screwing his eyes tightly shut against the pain that floode

through his body he lashed out, striking at empty air with h

dagger. Cool hands gripped his wrist, stilling him. A so]

velvet muzzle brushed against his cheek and a gentle famili;

voice sounded in his head.

 

~lranale?, he whispered.

 

nneninff his eves and

 

trying

 

, .

 

take a step forwards. 'Oakapple,' he cried again, toppling in

her arms. 'The new Nightmare . . . the new . . .'

 

'Yes, yes,' she soothed, struggling to keep hold of him

he slumped against her. Starlight snorted and whinnied a'

knelt down beside her, taking Willows weight squarely acre

her back as he slipped from Oakapple's arms. Arching h

 

158

 

~.~.

 

_ ~

 

,.

 

proud neck she rose slowly and turned towards the entrance.

Oakapple paused for a moment, the whites of her eyes

showing clearly in the gloom of the vaults. Kneeling, she

quickly gathered up the shattered pieces of King Holbian's

crown and wrapped them in the tail of her cloak. She rose

and fled, not daring to look back or pause for breath until she

had reached the last stone step and felt the worn cobblestones

beneath her feet.

 

'Run, run, find a place above the shadows,' sobbed Willow

as the sunlight beyond the great doors of Underfall dissolved

away his nightmare dreams and brought him roughly awake.

 

Slowly sitting up on Starlight's back, he stared down at the

ring of frightened faces around him. 'Darkness,' he whispered,

leaning forwards, 'real nightmare blackness that is

worse than the Ciy of Night. Worse than . . .'

 

Willow stopped, drawing breath into his aching lungs and

saw that the Tunnellers' eyes were fixed, staring at his

blackened and distorted hands where they rested on Starlight'

s mane.

 

'These are the marks of the darkness,' he cried, stretching

out his gnarled fingers. 'The darkness that will creep into

your bones, taking you, swallowing you up.'

 

'Darkness? What new darkness?' asked a dozen fearful

voices in the circle of Tunnellers tightening around Starlight.

 

Willow leaned even further forwards and spoke in a hushed

whisper. 'The Nightmare, Krulshards, spawned a son, a real

Nightmare, more hideous and more powerful than you could

ever dare to think of . . .' Willow paused, looking from eye to

eye. 'You saw him standing beneath the walls of Underfall.'

 

'The Marcher who attacked the trees. Was that the new

Nightmare?, asked Cedarbranch. 'He looked grim and battle

ready.'

 

'No, no,' interrupted Willow. 'But there is a blood tie

between them, I am sure. No, it is the boy who has

Krulshards' power.'

 

'But he was only a boy,' called out one of the Tunnellers.

 

159

 

'He looked quite small and frail against those two Nightbeasts

and the Marcher.'

 

Willow laughed, a dry sound without humour and turned

towards the voice. 'You would not recognize him now. He

grew in the tomb of Kings, splitting his skin quicker than a

lizard, new locks of hair shimmering like winter frost. He ate

the skin and it grew again, spreading across his body without

a blemish, covering every rotten sinew and glistening piece of

flesh.'

 

The Tunnellers in the circle had paled, their large round

eyes wide-open with fear. With difficulty, Willow drew his

leg up and on to Starlight's withers then pulled aside his .

breeches, showing them the ugly ratbite. 'That is how he will

take you,' he cried, thrusting his tortured fingers into their

faces. 'Black rats that carry a bite of darkness.'

 

The circle of Tunnellers moved in panic, stamping their

feet, dancing on tiptoe. 'Rats, rats!' they cried, pushing and

treading on each other in fear.

 

'Stop them,' whispered Willow to Oakapple. 'Make them

stand still; they must listen.'

 

Oakapple shouted for order and made the Tunnellers

spread in a broader circle beneath the ancient trees. Willow

waited for the whispers of fear to settle and smiled to see that

the ancient trees stood statue-still, each leathery leaf turned

towards him.

 

'This new Nightmare is powerful enough to crumble:

granite beneath his fingertips. Powerful enough to enter they

fortress of Underfall at the touch of his hand. He will take all

Elundium if the black rats get into the Granite City ...':

Willow stopped, realizing the full horror of what he and all]

his people had done. Paling, he clutched at Starlight's mane.

 

'The City!' he cried. 'We have built a great wall of windows

and vaulted archways. If the rats reach the city there are noi

doors to keep them out . . .'

 

The leaves above Willow's head rustled and rubbed

 

160

 

together, sending waves of soft murmurings far along the

Greenways edge.

 

'No! No!' Willow cried, looking up into the branches.

'There is no time to warn the King. We must build a new

fortress, somewhere that is stronger than the Granite City,

somewhere that the black rats cannot enter. It must be

somewhere high above the shadows that Thane will see and

know as a refuge against this new Nightmare. Yes, yes, it will

be a castle rising sheer against the darkness. It will be a

strong place to keep the daylight.'

 

The branches overhead whispered and sighed, stretching

out across the Causeway Road, pointing with their leathery

leaves into the wild lands beyond Mantern's Forest to a place

of tall hills and narrow shaded valleys where all the Greenways

that crossed Elundium had once met towards the great

mound of sunbaked earth, the ancient meeting place of Kings

that long ago had been named the Rising. Willow listened to

the whispering leaves and slowly nodded his head. Quietly,

he spread his hands and spoke again.

 

'The darkness did not take me as it took the Gatekeeper of

Underfall. It has burned and twisted my fingers and has sunk

me into nightmare dreams but it could not hold me and keep

me. Perhaps for all of us born into the torment of night there

is a little hope. If that is true we must hurry and build a safe

place. Come quickly, follow me.'

 

Without another word the Tunnnellers left the Greenway

and vanished between the close-grown tangle trees of Mantern'

s Forest. Willow slipped to the ground and carefully took

Oakapple~s hand between his crippled fingers. He whispered

how much he loved her, knowing what courage it must have

taken to come with only Starlight's help and rescue him from

the tombs.

 

Oakapple smiled, her eyes softening. 'I love you, Willow. I

 

love you enough to risk my life,' she answered.

 

Willow frowned, fearing to lose something precious that he

had only just found. He looked out through the branches and

 

161

 

sharp thorns of the tangle trees. 'We must prepare against

this darkness or lose everything we love, even your foal,' he

cried, turning to Starlight. 'If the new darkness touches him

he will be lost for ever. You must go, gallop as never before

to find him, then bring him and all the Warhorses that will

follow you into the new fortress we will build.'

 

Starlight flattened her ears, showing the whites of her eyes

and snorted in alarm. Willow urged her forwards. 'Go! Go!'

he shouted as Starlight cantered away. 'Tell the owls and the

Border Runners and bring all who will follow you into the

Rising.'

 

Willow stopped and stared foolishly at Oakapple. 'The

name, it was in the voices of the trees, they told me.'

 

Oakapple smiled and nursed his twisted fingers. 'Yes, and

it will be a beautiful place that rises sheer in the sunlight. A

tower of hope above a sea of darkness.'

 

'You heard it as well!' cried Willow. 'The voices in the

trees telling us which way to go, naming the ancient

crossroads.'

 

Oakapple smiled as she looked into Willow's pale haunted

eyes and drew her cloak tightly around his shivering shoutders,

pulling him close to her. 'It matters not, Willow, what

we do not hear. You were the one who had the power to

deliver us out of the darkness. I know you will keep us safe:

you are our Elder now. That is why first the horses and now

the trees talk to you and we, your people, will follow you to

the ends of Elundium.'

 

Willow shrank into the cloak, his teeth thattering with fear.

'I dare not fail,' he whispered. 'I saw it there in the darkness

as King Holbian shattered into a thousand pieces, the end of

Elundium, the sun dimmed to a shadow, the darkness

covering everything.'

 

162

 

Wedding Ties in Candlebane Hall

 

Thane hurried the length of Candlebane Hall to greet his

friends. Eventine was led away to refresh herself after her

journey but Thane kept Kyot by him.

 

'I'm glad you came,' Thane said, gripping Kyot's travelstained

sleeve and smiling everywhere at once to acknowledge

the smiles and murmurs of the people who thronged the

Candle Hall.

 

'We rode on the edge of the wind,' Kyot said as he stared

around him and shivered. 'Kingship must be a difficult

business; all these people, the noise, the crowds.'

 

'Difficult!' gasped Thane. 'That is not the half of it. If I

frown the whole of Candlebane Hall will be thrown into

shadow. But I must follow my fate.'

 

Kyot nodded, feeling his own face flushed with embarrassment

at the half-caught whispering that followed their

measured steps as they walked the length of the Candle Hall

- whispers of the great battle with the Nightmare - and the

soft touch of many hands as they passed through the throng.

'Forgive me, great warrior, I touch you for luck,' had met

him at every turn.

 

'I need you, Kyot,' Thane whispered as they reached the

far end of the hall and slowly turned towards the High

Throne. 'I need a friend who will not treat me as a king

someone who will share my shadow and claim a full half of

it.'

 

Kyot laughed and gripped Thane's arm. 'I would have

 

163

 

acome sooner, leading the Archers of Stumble Hill, but we had

ridden to Clatterford to guard Eventine's father from the trees

and we missed Errant on the road. We have galloped with little

rest to be here for the wedding ties. You know I would never

desert you, Thane.'

 

Mulcade and Rockspray perched battle ready on Thane and

Kyot's shoulders. Together they turned their unblinking eyes

towards the doors of the Candle Hall and hooted softly. All

eyes followed theirs and murmurs and whispers of excitement

died away into silence. Kyot gasped and blinked.

 

Thane caught his breath and took a step. 'Elionbel,' he

whispered, spreading his arms and gazing in wonder at her.

 

'Now is the moment,' Elionbel whispered to Tombel, her

father, as she gathered her courage and stepped carefully

across the threshold into the bright sunlight and slowly passed

through her procession of guardians who had halted in the

broad aisle. She proceeded into the cool polished shadows of

Candlebane Hall past Fairday, the Master of Clatterford,

Thunderstone, the Keeper of World's End, Duclos, the deaf

swordsman, and a host of others whom Errant had gathered

from the length and breadth of Elundium. She smiled nervously

as she passed Errant, Grey Goose and Breakmaster who knelt,

casting their cloaks of blue satin for her to walk across; past

Angishand, Thane's mother, who had sewn her beautiful

wedding gown and had caught into its seams a thousand

daylights of happiness, to the place where Eventine stood, tired

and dusty from a hard road, the great Bow of Clauerford still in

her hand.

 

Squeezing her father's hand, she stopped beside Eventine

and stretched out her other hand. 'Walk with us, Eventine, and

put your hand that saved me from the darkness into mine, be

with me now in this moment of joy.'

 

Eventine smiled and yet she saw the shadow of fear in

Elionbel. She stepped into the broad aisle and motioned with

her bow hand back towards the Candle doors. 'Let all of those

who brought you from the darkness rejoice in this

 

164

 

moment, let the wild and free walk with you to the high throne.

 

Elionbel turned her head and looked back towards the

Candle doors. 'Esteron! Equestrius!' she called, reaching out

her hand. 'Stumble, brave Stumble,' she laughed as the little

relay horse trotted out from between the Warhorses. Sprint

neighed fiercely and cantered into the Candle Hall, the wind in

the bow string attached to his saddle whispering a haunting

tune of places far away across the endless grasslands.

 

Laughing with joy, Elionbel ran her hand across their

powerful shoulders and touched the silver-threaded banIe

plaits so lovingly woven into their manes. 'When darkness

held the road you came, so proud, so beautiful, so full of

courage. Walk with me now and share this moment.'

 

Beyond the Candle doors late hoofbeats raced across the

bridge that rose in one clear span above Swanwater. A stag

roared, setting the candle flames dancing on their wicks

 

'Tanglecrown!' Elionbel cried, waiting with laughter in her

eyes until the Lord of Stags had passed between the doors and

stood before her. Kneeling, Tanglecrown swept his huge stand

of antlers in a glittering arc before holding them statuestill for

Elionbel to place her hand between the razor tips on his soft

forehead.

 

'Lead us forward, Lord of Stags, and light the shadows of

Candlebane Hall,' she asked, turning back towards the throne.

 

Shadowy wings flapped between the Candle doors and fine

droplets of water scattered across the threshold stone,

sparkling with light. 'Ousious, Ogion!' Elion cried, beckoning to

the grey swans and calling them forward. Kneeling between

them she caressed their soft downy feathers and drew them

close to her. iShare your silent courage with me and walk with

me to the wedding ties,' she whispered to them.

 

Ousious lifted her head and sang in silence of the winterdark

reeds and the love that had defeated the Nightmare then she

 

gently brushed her bright orange beak on Elionbel's

 

165

 

hand. Ogion proudly lifted his head and stared with glittering

eyes at the waiting crowds dlronging either side of the broad

aisle, and took his place beside Elionbel.

 

'We are ready now, Father,' she whispered, smiling and

she took her father's hand and moved forwards through the

shafts of high vaulted sunlight that streamed down into

Candlebane Hall.

 

'Look at the gown,' Thane whispered to Kyot as the

procession drew closer. 'See how it holds the light.'

 

Kyot nodded, dry-mouthed. 'It watches us as Elion moves.

There are coundess peacocks' eyes needled into its weave.'

 

'Yes,' answered Thane, 'they catch the sunlight and glow

fire-bnght. Look at the colours.'

 

'Your mother must be the greatest needlewoman in all

Elundium,' murmured Kyot. 'Look at the burning sun on the

bodice and the cool starlight sewn into the hem, and the lace

so delicate and spider-fine etched across the blue velvet. It

tells the story of your triumph over the darkness. It is a

wonder of Elundium.'

 

Thane laughed and stepped forward to take Elionbel's

hand. 'My love,' he whispered, smiling as he led her up on to

the dais at the foot of the High Throne. 'Though all the

darkness stood between us we are here to be bound together

through love, our lives to entwine for ever.'

 

Turning to face the sea of faces that spread across

Candlebane Hall, he lifted his hands and cried out, 'Let the

wedding ties begin.'

 

Soft laughter sounded in the shadows of the High Throne,

gende colours danced in the first shaft of sunlight shining

dlrough all the colours of the rainbow as Nevian, the Master

of Magic, the Lord of Sunlight, stepped forward. Taking

Thane and Elionbel's right hands, he joined them together

and called in a loud voice: 'The light will be with chose who

Iove and cherish it, for they shall be blessed to shine in the

darkness.'

 

166

 

'

The light shall be with them always,' chanted every voice

in the Candle Hall.

 

Nevian smiled and silenced the "athering with his piercing

gaze. 'There are two others in this Candle Hall who shall be

love-bound. This daylight two others may stand beside King

Thane and Lady Elionbel and share these wedding ties, for

without them and the sweet music they make in the darkness

there would be no sunlight here in Candlebane Hall.'

 

Turning his head to the left, Nevian searched out Eventine

and quiedy called her forwards saying, 'Come, Lady of

Clatterford, bowmaiden of Elundium.'

 

'Lord, I . . . I . . .' Eventine exclaimed, stepping backwards

and clutching at her dusty, travel-stained cloak.

 

Breakmaster saw her confusion and hurried forwards

unbuckled her dirty cloak and spread the steelsilver battlecoat

across her shoulders. 'None is more worthy, my beautiful

Lady of Clatterford,' he whispered, 'for it is a gift of Kings

that I have put about your shoulders and it shimmers with all

the colours of a summer's day. Listen, and as you move larks'

songs and meadow dlrush will be with each graceful step you

take.

 

Nevian turned his head to the right and fixed Kyot with his

eye, smiling with pride to see him now full-grown, a master

of his own destiny. 'Come forward, Kyotorm, Keeper of

Stumble Hill, first bowmaster of Elundium. Come to my left

hand and let me tie your wedding knot, for your love has

grown near to full flowering. Come, stand before me.'

 

Eventine and Kyot both blushed and made to kneel before

Thane but he would have none of it and pulled them to their

feet. 'These two are as brother and sister to me,' he said with

 

1øY, 'and in black times they shared my hardships and we

walked hand in hand into the darkness. Gladly we will share

these wedding ties. Come, Kyot and Eventine, give your

hands to the Master of Magic; come while the full glory of

the sunlight shines down on Candlebane Hall.'

 

Nevian laughed as he pulled two threads from the rainbow

 

167

 

cloak and held them up for all to see. He turned and wove

the first around Thane and Elionbel's hands, and the second

thread he wove around Kyot and Eventine's.

 

'Wedding ties are for a lifetime and through them will

come the seeds of tomorrow,' he called.

 

'Out of the darkness, into the daylight,' chanted the

gathering.

 

Nevian held up their rainbow-threaded hands and they

shone with all the soft colours of a summer's day. Crying out,

he challenged the Candle Hall: 'Is there any man, woman,

Marcher or warrior born in all Elundium who would cut

these threads?'

 

Silence spread across Candlebane Hall. Esteron snorted

and pricked his ears as the Master of Magic continued with

the wedding rites. 'Do you, Thanehand, King of all Elundium,

take Elionbel, Marcher daughter of the Wayhouse of

Woodsedge, to be love-bound with this rainbow thread to be

your wife, to stand beside you in the sunlight, to share your

shadow? Will you protect and honour her and take no others

in her place?'

 

Thane smiled and looked steadily into Elionbel's eyes

'While I live I swear to it all, for we are love-bound.'

 

Nevian nodded slightly and turned to Elionbel, his eyes

softening. 'Do you, brave Elionbel, born of Marcher blood,

do you take Thanehand, King of all Elundium to be love

bound with this rainbow thread to be your husband, to shelter

in the same shadow and to share his triumphs and defeats, ta

take no others in his place?'

 

Elionbel lifted her eyes and searched the Candle Hall for

her father. Briefly their eyes met and he nodded, clear}4

showing they had his blessing. Turning her head, she smiled

at Thane. 'While I live I shall always love you and cheri

each moment we are together in sunlight or darkness,

happiness and sorrow. You have this, my solemn vow.'

 

Thane brought her rainbow-threaded fingers to his li

 

168

 

and kissed them tenderly. 'In sunlight, starlight or darkness

we shall never part again, on this you have my solemn vow.'

 

Nevian smiled and lifted their interwoven fingers. 'That

which has been woven together shall not be broken.'

 

Reaching beneath the rainbow cloak he brought forth a

tiny set of silver scissors and cut the secret knot he had tied

between their palms. Taking the loose ends, he tied them so

that both retained on their middle finger of the right hand a

single strand of thread, woven and interlaced into a shimmering

ring. 'This thread shall be the sign, the binding mark of

your love, let it shine everbright to the end of your days.'

 

'Everbright in the sunlight,' sighed the multitude with joy

as Thane took Elionbel into his arms and kissed her.

 

Nevian laughed with delight and turned to Kyot and

Eventine. He took their threaded fingers into his own and

drew them to the edge of the dais, then began the wedding

ties, chanting by rote, repeating each word and taking in

exchange their solemn pledges.

 

Fairday laughed and smiled and wrung his hands both with

joy and sorrow, the wet tears coursing down his cheeks, to

gain such a son but to lose such a precious daughter. He

leaned closer to listen to Eventine giving her vow.

 

'While I live I shall always love you and cherish each

moment we are together, sharing one shadow in the sunlight,

making sweet music with our bow strings, on this you have

my solemn vow.'

 

Thoron gently touched Fairday's arm. 'She is a rare

treasure,' he whispered, caught up in the moment and

dabbing at his watering eyes.

 

'Yes, yes,' sobbed the Master Glassmaker, 'and the Crystal

 

House of Clatterford will never be the same again. It will be

quieter, more mellow in the sunlight without its fair lady

Eventine.'

 

Nevian gave a great shout and cut the knot, rethreading

the sparkling threads on each middle finger in turn. 'This

shall be their sign, the binding marks in the tower on Stumble

 

169

 

Hill. Let no man be he base- or warrior-born put them apart

for the thread shall shine everbright to the end of your days.'

 

'Everbright, everbright,' shouted the crowds, for they had

taken the daughter of Clatterford to their hearts and now the

ceremony was over they surged forwards towards the dais.

 

Tanglecrown knelt beside Sprint at their feet on the first

step of the dais of the throne and Rockspray hovered above

their heads casting a proud shadow in the shafts of sunlight.

 

'There shall be a feast,' shouted Thane, 'a wedding feast

that will last a dozen daylights, the whole city shall eat and be

merry and rejoice in these wedding ties for they mark the end

of Krulshards' darkness and a new beginning in Elundium.'

 

Nevian laughed, shook out the rainbow cloak and linked

his arms with the newly wedded then called out to Esteron

and Equestrius, 'Lead us Lords of Horses to the feast of

Kings.'

 

Nevian ate little and spoke less during the feasting, retreating

into the folds of the rainbow cloak. He watched and

listened to the easy talk and laughter that filled the nighttime

hours. Something was troubling him, nagging and

gnawing at his bones, something was happening out beyond

the city, he could sense it. He felt a dark shadow was

threatening to cloud the sunlight, but what? His vision

seemed muddled and yet his magic was growing stronger.

New colours were weaving their way into his cloak and the

half-thrown curse upon the rebellious warriors at Thane's

crowning had held them still, full-branched as ancient trees

upon the Greenways' edge. Turning slowly in his chair, he

had secretly searched Elionbel's eyes and seen that the

shadows haunting her in the Palace of Kings; had grown,

making her pale in the sunlight. Frowning, he touched

Thane's arm and asked to meet him in the Candle Hall

before the new sun rose.

 

Footsteps echoed across the empty polished floor as the grey

hours lightened the sky and Thane, his coat tails billowing,

 

170

 

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1

 

1

 

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i

 

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42 1

 

hurried to meet the Master of Magic. 'What troubles you so

that we should meet under cover of darkness?' he asked in a

whisper as Nevian led him to the High Throne.

 

Nevian frowned and paced the polished floor. Finally he

spoke. 'There is a darkness that gathers beyond my sight and

there is a shadow in Elionbel.'

 

'She fights to hide a great fear,' answered Thane, letting

his head sink into his hands. 'I have asked and begged her to

share the burden that darkens her heart. Sometimes it seems

to shrink almost to nothing and she laughs easily again but

any mention of Krulshards or her mother and she is haunted

again.'

 

'Does she speak of anything or plead a reason for her fear?'

asked Nevian, drawing close.

 

'No, her lips tremble and her hands shake with terror but

she will tell me nothing. I love Elionbel and treasure her

 

more than my own life. What, oh what can I, the King of

Elundium, do to take away this fear?'

 

'Be still, be still. Tell me, when did the shadow first darken

her heart? Was it at the threshold of the Granite City or at

the pledging on the Causeway Field?'

 

Thane shook his head, thinking back, remembering. 'It

was before that, in the City of Fight, at the moment of

Krulshards' death. Yes, yes! I lifted her up to rejoice in the

shafts of early sunlight Willow had brought into the darkness

but she cried in terror, struggled out of my arms and searched

the black malice that hung in shrouded folds about the

Nightmare's shoulders. She shouted - yes, I remember what

she cried - that this is only the beginning of the real darkness

and then she gathered up her mother's shrunken body into

her arms and gently rocked her backwards and forwards

promising, pledging something to herself.'

 

Thane stopped and tilted his head to one side, listening to

the criers calling through the lower circles of the city for the

people to awake. 'Perhaps Willow saw something that I

 

171

 

missed,' continued Thane. 'Something that would cast such

a shadow across Elion. Surely I would have to be blind.'

 

Nevian sighed and thought deeply. 'Sometimes, sometime :

the looking makes us blind, or we snag our toes on stones w

should surely see. The shadow was in Elionbel on th

Causeway Field and through it I caught a glimpse of da 4,

daylights but it was only a moment's vision that I thought w

grief for her mother, Martbel. But now I see with th

strengthening of my powers that it was more than that .

Summon Willow and we will ask him what he saw in that fir!

moment as sunlight flooded into the City of Night. Call hit

before the morning striker touches the daylight bell.'

 

'We cannot,' answered Thane helplessly. 'Willow and .

his people have vanished. Errant took my summons throng

all Elundium searching far and wide to bring those who coul

come to the wedding ties, but the Tunnellers were nowhe

to be found. Willow had asked leave of me to see the beau

of Elundium for the Tunnellers to wander as they pleased.'

 

Nevian muttered something and looked absently at th

Candleman moving across Candlebane Hall, snuffing o'

each tall candle in turn. 'Willow is seeking his true home,

find and bury the roots of his people in the place Krulshar

tore them from and I failed to set them on the right path!'

cried. 'In foolish haste I overlooked the ending of the

homelessness.'.

 

'I offered them all Elundium,' Thane whispered, 'but th

would take nothing but the freedom to wander.'

 

Nevian laughed bitterly and stood up. 'They are too prou

Thane, to take what belongs to others. They will search un

their feet bleed, lost from us, somewhere in the wild

stretches of Elundium.' He paused, spun around and grippe

Thane's hand. 'Perhaps Fate has set them wandering for

purpose. Perhaps they needed to see in order to find.'

 

'They garden as they travel,' interrupted Thane. 'Eve

where, even amongst the roots of ancient trees where fe

would tread, they have trimmed the Greenways' edge a'

 

. 172

 

~ .

 

pruned the tangle trees, leaving neat bundles of branches,

stacked ready for burning'

 

Nevian laughed again, his face softening 'The trees will

not hurt you. No, they may yet be a blessing if the sunlight

fails. We must watch and wait. Willow will send us news or

come again to the Granite City when he has found what he

seeks.'

 

Nevian began to tell him of the Rising and Willow. 'It

stands a ruin now but once it was a great mound where all

the Greenways of Elundium met. A meeting place of Kings

that rose sheer above the landscape, beyond Underfall,

beyond the endless grasslands, a place of waterfalls and

wooded hills.'

 

'And Willow's people came from this Rising?' asked

Thane, the question of the trees forgotten. 'Were they a

people of Kings before Krulshards stole them?'

 

Nevian smiled and gathered the rainbow cloak into tight

folds, muting its colours, hiding its brilliance. 'They were a

people of tragedy,' he whispered. 'They were bound in chains

by the first Granite Kings to raise the bones of Elundium

into great cities, to make spires of sheer stone and places of

beauty for others to wander in. They were even forced to cut

the Greenways league by league across Elundium.'

 

'But the Rising?' pressed Thane. 'How was the Rising

their home if they were prisoners?'

 

Nevian put his fingers on to Thane's lips and drew him

out of the Hall into the bright sunlight. 'Willow's people were

born into chains and passed from King to King. They knew

nothing of freedom and merely bent their backs in numbing

labour. Their last great task before the darkness came was to

build the Rising, trampling the soft earth layer by layer until

 

it rose above the shadows. It was the last place in all Elundium

where they saw the daylight.'

 

Nevian shuddered, remembering the screams of pain, the

weeping as the great mound rose. 'It is a place of beauty now

hane, flower-decked and gentle in the sunlight, but

 

173

 

a

 

thousands died and were trodden into the base of that pitilesc

mound, and thousands more of Willow's people were crushed

and bound to wooden stakes and buried, standing in endless

circles rising up towards the summit of the hill.'

 

'Why?' whispered Thane, his face whiter than the winte'

moon. 'Why such slaughter and why do you tell me of it?'

 

Nevian frowned. 'The Rising is a watchtower guarded b!

those thousands of sightless eyes in death. Willow's people

watch for the enemies of the sunlight. I tell you because yo'

must know of it, because as the new King of Elundium Willow

and his people belong to you and they can never b free until

you release them on the summit of the Rising Krulshards

merely stole them moments after the first Granit King arose

and he used them to spread his darkness dlroug the City of

Night.'

 

'They shall be free!' Thane cried angrily. 'I shall mak them

so!'

 

Nevian smiled and hushed Thane into silence. 'None knot

of tills tragedy; none save you and I in all Elundium ha, talked

of it. When I entered the darkness and found Willow' Elder

and showed him all of the daylight I kept the tragec of their

earlier life a secret to give them hope that they mild one day

be free to see the sunlight.'

 

'But the Rising?' hissed Thane. 'Surely they would n want

to return to that cursed place!'

 

'Oh yes, Thane, to stand in the place of their fathers. B

remember they do not know what stands beneath the groun

how shoulder to shoulder their ancestors' blind eyes sta

outwards, how Willow's forefathers guard the Rising, only

dlin layer of soft earth keeping them from the sunlight. Ye of

all the places in all Elundium that is where they shoe receive

their freedom and become the Masters of their or destiny. It

would indeed be a just ending to their suffering

 

Thane gripped Nevian's hand and knelt before him. 'La

and Master of Magic, if I have any power in Elundium I sh

 

truly make Willow's people free.'

 

174

 

Nevian nodded and pulled Thane to his feet. 'Beware, my

King, it may take great tact to give something they already

think they have. They are a proud people, tempered by timeless

hardships, if they should find the Rising and discover what

lies only finger-deep beneath the surface it may break their

spirit, or burden them with hatred for the Granite Kings and all

those who follow them.'

 

Thane thought for a moment and turned slowly towards the

bridge that rose above Swanwater. 'I will send Errant to search

for Willow. If any man can find him he will.'

 

Nevian quickly agreed. 'Despatch Errant in all haste but tell

him nothing of what lies beneath the Rising.'

 

Thane nodded and turned towards the top of the high wall

surrounding Candlebane Hall and Swanwater. 'You tell of the

dark and hint at shadowlight that will hide the sun, but what in

all Elundium can I do to stop it?'

 

Nevian stroked his chin and drew his eyebrows together. He

slowly paced the high wall then, turning back to Thane, threw

his hands in the air. 'It would be dangerous to panic the people

and only fools fence openly with shadows they cannot touch.

No, you must appear to be easy, even overconfident, you must

seem to do nodling and yet secrecy you must search

everywhere for the beginnings of these halfformed shadows

that trouble the sunlight. I counsel you to give every warrior

his freedom, disband the bathe crescents and send the

warriors home. Thank the Warhorses and the Border Runners

for their tireless help to win the sunlight and give them all

Elundium to wander in, but bid each man, each warrior and

every Warhorse, Border Runner and Battle Owl to be on their

 

guard against new shadows that might threaten the daylight.

Let the people of Elundium be your eyes and ears.'

 

'But if I break the bathe crescents we will be defenceless,'

cried Thane.

 

Nevian smiled and drew Thane to him. 'Warriors will watch

the harder and guard you closer if they think you have

 

175

 

sacrificed your safety for their freedom. But fear not to look out

along the Greenway to where a line of ancient trees

throws long morning shadows across the road. Do not forget

that I have pledged them to do your bidding. Disband the

bathe crescent and spread your eyes and ears far across

Elundium.'

 

'What of Elionbel? How shall I rid her of the shadow that

touches her heart?' Thane asked as the rainbow cloak began

to dissolve into the rays of early sunlight.

 

'Whatever haunts fair Elionbel she guards it with great

secrecy,' answered Nevian, his voice growing fainter. 'I fear

it is tied up with her nightmare journey across Elundium.:

There are scars etched deep by Krulshards' cruel hand the

may never heal. I will speak with her and try to draw out her

fears so that she will share her burden. I will go to her as the

noonday bell strikes across the city.'

'I fear nothing, nothing!' Elionbel cried, her face flushed with

anger, her hands white-knuckled and clenched at her sides.

 

Nevian spread his hands and tried to calm her. 'I am not

guilty of anything,' she shouted, retreating away from the

Master of Magic as if dreading his touch.

 

'Elionbel, Queen of all Elundium, I charge you with

nothing, I only come to you to ease the shadow that haunts

your heart. Talk to me of the Nightmare, share the horror

of that black time and use my strength to blunt your pain.'

 

Elionbel seemed to hesitate, to take a step forward. Her

lips trembled, short breaths rasped in her throat. 'I canot

tell. The people would stone me, Thane will curse me,' she

whispered, wringing her hands in despair. Raising her head

she blinked back tears of despair crying, 'I am pledged to

keep my own counsel in the sunlight.'

 

Nevian frowned, catching only half her whispered words.

and gendy took her hands, touching the rainbow thread he

had woven so carefully around her middle finger. 'Such

loyalty is rare, Elionbel, but it has the power to destroy your

 

176

 

love for Thane. Tell me, child, who would ask you to carry

such a burden of secrets?'

 

New tears were welling up, brimming in her eyes, as she

remembered her mother's last nightmare moments. Shaking

her head she fumed slowly away. 'I cannot tell you. Mart . . .

Moth . . .'

 

The words strangled in her throat, choking her back into

silence, forcing her down on to her knees. The noise of that

hideous high chamber in the City of Night thundered in her

ears, a cruel face leered in the darkness, a child's face stared

at her, mocking her without pity. 'I will kill it, Mother, then

everyone will forgive me. I promise, I promise,' she whispered, "

gathering her courage and turning to the Master of

Magic.

 

Taking a deep breath she faced him eye to eye. 'Martbel,

my mother, suffered cruelly at the nightmare's hand. He

taunted her and beat her without mercy when he discovered

that I was Elionbel, the one he had crossed Elundium to take.

He mocked her for daring to deceive him - that, that is the

secret I carry. Mother was warrior-born and proud and swore

me to let no man or woman in Elundium know of her

torment. She pledged me to burn her body lest my father

should see the rags and bones he had worn her to for it would

destroy him.'

 

Nevian took her hands and drew her gently into the folds

of the rainbow cloak. 'Elionbel, First Lady of Elundium,' he

whispered, blinking at wet eyes, 'you carry a great burden for

your mother yet all Elundium would have knelt before

Martbel and offered up their spears and shields to honour

her battle against Krulshards. There was no dishonour in

what she did.'

 

Elionbel shook her head, hardly daring to believe that

Nevian had swallowed the thread-fine tissue of lies so easily.

It Is not easy to forget, as yet I cannot share it but . . . when

the shouts of terror have dimmed in my heart, when I am

sure that the scars of those black nights shrivelled in the

sunlight then I will go to Thane and share the burden.'

 

Nevian smiled softly and melted at her touch, fading into

nothing as the sun rode behind heavy thunderclouds. Elionbel

bit her lip, shivered and paced her room in the high tower.

What if the bastard child had survived, where was it now?

Was it somewhere out there in some dark corner of Elundium

growing, gathering strength to swallow the daylight?

 

'No!' she hissed, clenching her fists. 'It perished in the

clumsy one-eyed Nightbeast's claws. It shrivelled up and

died! It ...' Elionbel shook her head, pushing her dark

thoughts away, trapped wretchedly in the silence of lies, not

daring to hope that the child had perished. Sighing miserably,

she prepared to descend, without appetite' to the table for

 

the noonday meal.

 

'Elionbel must suffer alone, my Lard,' whispered Nevian,

coming to Thane's side where he stood lost in thought beside

the doors of Candlebane Hall.

 

Thane jumped, startled by the Master of Magic and turned

sharply, his eyebrows drawn upwards

 

'Yes,' continued Nevian, 'she has woven a web of lies and

half-truths to keep some secret. There was a faint ring of

truth in what she told me but much was tangle-tongued '

 

'Why? Why would she need to lie? There is nothing she

needs to hide from us!'

 

Nevian spread his hands. 'She guards a secret from those

last moments in the darkness. Martbel is a part of it and

pledged her to silence, that much showed as truth in her

eyes.'

 

'Martbel!' cried Thane. 'She was too `,weak to pledge Elion

to secrets. She was worn to less than a shadow, shrunken and

feather-light through her sufferinggS at Krulshards' hands

Surely Elion does not wish to keep her mother's torment

secret from me? Has she forgotten that with Kyot and

Eventine's help I brought them out of the darkness?'

'You must keep silent counsel and give her time,' Nevian

insisted. 'Let nothing of this meeting pass your lips. Watch

and guard Elionbel, keep her safe through the darker watches

of each night. I will walk on the high plateau before the black

marble Gates of night and search for the truth of what

shadows her heart.'

 

'Nevian! Nevian!' Thane cried, a thousand questions

crowding in his throat. 'What if I . . .'

 

But the Master of Magic had gone in one bright sparkle of

colour; the rainbow cloak had faded into nothing.

 

179

 

aThe Black Standard Leaves the City

~N'gh

 

Kruel crouched on the edge of the high chamber, watch

and listening, his eyes blinking in the sunlight. Behind d'

lay the secret spiralling road that had led them- up thro'

the City of Night, through beautiful darkness so click

could almost taste it.-Setding back on his haunches, K'

searched She chamber and looked with careful eyes ac the

battle-littered floor, past the heaps of Nightbeast d past the

broken spears, blades and rusty scythes to the sh column

of black rock that reached up a single broken fin pointing

into the shafts of sunlight which flooded d through She

broken roof.

 

'Father! Father!' he whispered, half-rising and seeing

the first time the tall, headless figure pinned to the

column marble still wrapped in the shadowy folds of the

black mal

 

Gathering Krulshards' head in his hands Kruel rose ~

stepped into the chamber, he shrugged off Kerzolde's a;

tious claw, slipped through Arbel's restraining fingers

 

began to cross the chamber. 'Beware! The warriors

Underfall may have set guards,' hissed Kerzolde.

 

Kruel turned his head, a snarl of hatred twisting his and

whisded once: a high cutting note, that set the heap dead

all around him trembling. Everywhere the floor see to move

as waves of darkness crossed the shafts of sunk

swallowing it up where it touched the ground.

 

A huge black crow shrieked and rose from Krulsha

shoulders, spiralling up through the broken roof. 'That is

 

180

 

7

 

guardian of my father's tomb!' cried Kruel, pointing a finger at

the departing crow. 'And These,' he laughed, pointing at the

shadow rats swarming across the floor, 'will bite any warrior we

meet, trapping them into our darkness. Come, come and kneel

before the Master of Darkness!'

 

Kruel hurried on, pushing his way through the heaps of

dead and knelt before Krulshards. Lifting the hem of the

malice he kissed the shadowy cloth and wept, casting the

black folds of night over his head.

 

'I will avenge. I will avenge!' he sobbed. And then he rose

slowly to his feet, his face set in lines of bitter hatred. Bending,

he "athered up She severed head and after wetting the dry

shrivelled ends of flesh with his tongue, he lifted the head and

carefully set it back in place on his father's shoulders. The lank

dead locks of hair hung limp in the sunlight. The eyes stared

blindly forwards, She jaw fell silendy open: bone-black fingers

seemed to tremble where they gripped the hilt of the sparkscarred

sword that held him, Krulshards, the Master of

Nightmares, trapped forever in the City of Night.

 

'Father! Father!' Kruel shouted, trying to prise the boneblack

fingers from the hilt of the sword, kissing the dry, cracked,

skinless lips as he tried to breathe new life into his fattier, the

Master of Nightmares.

 

'He is dead, dead,' whispered Arbel, falling to his knees

beside Kruel; 'You cannot bring him back to life.'

 

'Dead!' echoed Kerzolde and Kerhunge, touching the hem

of the malice.

 

'Dead!' shouted Kruel in blind anger, gripping the hilt of the

sword with both hands. 'Thanehand will hang in dais

chamber. He will be dead! Dead, dead, dead! I will drive this

same sword through his foul heart.'

 

Pulling with all his strength, Kruel tried to draw the sword

out of the stone but his hands slipped on the bright metal,

sending him reeling backwards across She chamber. Cursing

be tried again and again. Arbel pulled with him; Kerzolde

 

181

 

hooked his one good claw around the hilt. Kerhunge grun

locking his hairy fingers on the sword but it remained s'

fast as Thane had plunged it in his moment of triu'

through Krulshards' rotten heart, fused ever fast into

column of rock.

 

Shouting and cursing, Kruel strode through the char

smashing everything in his path. 'Thanehand will die for

Die! Do you hear me? He will die for this!' he screamed.

 

'When we are strong, Master, we will take all Elund

from him,' soothed Kerzolde trying to keep pace with hit

 

'Now!' shouted Kruel. 'Now! We cannot wait!'

 

Kruel turned, pushing Kerzolde aside, and pointed a'

the chamber. 'Look,' he hissed, 'we have black shadow

and weed worms to spread the darkness. Everything I t.

will become ours. Just as the gates of Underfall opened

us so will all Elundium fall. We shall take what is to be o

 

Arbel laughed. 'I will follow you, Kruel, in the f

nighdbeast armour I can find in this chamber. I will

 

Warrior of the night!'~>

 

Kruel bent and loosed his dagger over a heap of Nighd

dead. He cut off a limp Nightshard arm and pulled

smooth black armoured scales away from the rotting ~

He threw it to Arbel. 'Here,' he shouted, hooking his fi'

beneath the beast's iron collar and skinning the chest ar

away, 'none will be able to defeat you in this. It is as sn

as water and harder than stone.'

 

Arbel laughed and threw aside his course woven shirt.

laid the nightshard's armour across his chest. It itches

tickled and grew warm beneath his touch, rising and f

with each breath. 'It is a fine fit,' he laughed. 'It feels a

like a second skin. Look how smooth it is!' ]

 

Kerzolde sneered and touched the chest armour with

one good claw. 'Now you are almost one of us, Mat

 

Now you have grown part of a Nightbeast's skin.'

 

'This is armour, not skin!' Arbel snapped, turning

from the nightbeast and reaching for the face plate

 

182

 

helm that Kruel had stripped from its head and now held out

to him.

 

'Take it off,' hissed Kerzolde, goading him. 'If it is only

armour take it off.'

 

Arbel laughed and curled his fingers around the edge of

the chest armour and tried to remove it. He frowned and

pulled again, feeling with his finger tips along the sharp

ridges and across the brittle scales. 'It has grown into my

skin! It has grown into me!' he cried out, turning on Kruel.

 

Kruel smiled and thrust the face plates and helm at him.

Kerzolde sneered, tapping him sharply on the brittle new

skin. 'One of us!' he hissed. 'Take the helm and be one of

us!'

 

Arbel hesitated, looking from Kruel to the hideous nightbeasts

who crouched, leering at him.

 

'Be a real part of the darkness,' whispered Kerzolde, and

Kerhunge, goading him. 'Wear it and look as beautiful as we

do.'

 

Arbel ran his fingers over his face, feeling the high

cheekbones and strong, well-set jaw. Shaking his head he

began to back away. 'I cannot!' he cried. 'I am a man. I am a

Marcher.'

 

Kruel laughed, stretched out his hand and gripped Arbel's

arm. 'You are more than that, you are my brother with the

blood of darkness flowing between us. Wear the Nightshard's

armour and be my first Captain. Take the helm, take it and

share my power.'

 

Slowly, his hands shaking, Arbel reached for and took the

smooth, brittle face-armour and helm. The nightbeasts had

grown quiet, creeping back a pace out of his reach. Arbel

vatched them, fixing them with his eyes as he brought the

helm down over his head, feeling the cheek plates touch his

face. He felt the tingling and itching as the skin and armour

grew together, the helm felt hot and heavy as it gripped his

head, bowing him forwards. Laughter, screams and shouts of

torment shouted and echoed in the helm somewhere deep

 

183

 

adown in the heart of Mantern's Mountain. Far away he could

hear the stones crack and the faint drip of water wearing away

the rock. He felt ten leagues high and as strong as ten Granite

Kings. Yet the sunlight grew harsh and hurt his eyes, soft

shadows seemed to beckon him, Kerzolde tried to move, crying

out as Arbel, the new Arbel, Captain of the Night-: beasts,

stilled him with a sudden blow, making him grovel on the

chamber floor.

 

'My brother of darkness; Master of all that moves b night!'

laughed Kruel, running his fingers over the Shari armoured

spines that had rapidly grown along Arbel's arms.

 

Arbel slowly turned his head and tried to smile. 'Brother he

shouted in terror, the sound echoing in the helm, the wor

grating in his throat, 'I am now both man and beast. Look my

hands, my legs - they are growing! Look, they are twistis

 

out of shape.'

 

Ad. it. --a ~

 

Kruel laughed. 'No, you will be strong and beautiful. L.

down in the shadow of the malice and let the strength of It

Nightshard grow through you.'

 

Arbel fell to his knees, clutching his head in his hands ar

screamed. Blackness reached out, touching him everywher

cold shadows of night swept across his body; he was fallin

tumbling backwards, he could touch without feeling and fe

without touching. Darkness was smothering his eyelid

swallowing him up. 'Kruel! Kruel!' he tried to call o

 

dlrough blackened brittle lips. ~

 

Kruel sat beside Arbel, huddled in brooding silence, hatr'

and anger boiled in his heart. He would destroy the fc

Thanehand now he had seen how his father had suffered

the Galloperspawn's hands; he would take and destr

everything that belonged to him, the owls, the horses,

 

dogs. Darkness would take everything, everything he h seen

in Kerzolde's simple mind. Rising, he stood before

 

father, Krulshards, and drew a long black dagger from wid

the malice. He "athered the folds of the black cloth in

 

other hand and cut it with two swift strokes, leaving ont

 

184

 

ragged tatter covering the shoulders of the Nightmare pinned

there by Thane's sword.

 

'Forgive me, Father,' he whispered, kneeling and kissing the

fingers, gendy caressing She loose folds of hanging flesh, 'but

I need dais cloak of shadows to spread your darkness across

Elundium for it shall be my emblem, raised to cast a shadow

over the sun and strike terror in Thanehand's heart!'

 

Arbel cried out and sat up carefully, turning his head from

left to right. He clenched and unclenched his armoured fingers,

touching She smooch scales of armour covering his arms.

Rising slowly to his feet he looked down at Kerzolde and

Kerhunge. 'Now I am more than you, Nightbeasts! Now I am

your Captain!' he sneered, snapping a discarded spearshaft

that lay near his feet as if it were a stalk of straw.

 

Kruel laughed as he touched Arbel's arm. 'Brother,' he

urged, thrusting a knuckle of polished armour before him.

'Look, look now at my Captain of Captains!'

 

Arbel took the polished metal and held it at arm's length; he

gasped at what he saw. It was true, the armour had changed

and grown while he slept, trapped in beautiful, black dreams;

now it was smooch and black, reflecting dark shadowlights. It

hugged each muscle, covering his body con{pletely and

rippling as he moved. Yet no matter how closely he looked or

felt with his nails he could not find a single join or crack, even

his eyelids were brittle armour.

 

He laughed, feeling his cheeks crackle as the armour

stretched across them. Lifting his hands, he felt around the

risen of the Nightshard's helm and ran his fingers through the

 

fine spine-like hair that flowed across his shoulders.

'Beautiful!' he whispered, turning the knuckle of polished

armour this way and that, touching and looking at the high

cheekbones and the proud forehead now fused in smooch

contours into the armour. 'Now I am a real warrior of the

darkness. Now I am strong enough to destroy the sunlight.

 

Kruel laughed and tilted the crude mirror. 'You are naked

darkness, brother. We must clothe you to enter Elundium.'

 

185

 

aArbel looked around the chamber, his eyes brightening

'What better!' he shouted, stooping and picking up

marching belt with one hand while with the other he gather a

swarm of shadow rats. 'I will have a tunic of living darkne he

laughed, threading the squealing rats, one by one, by If tails

through the chain links of the belt. Bending again gathered

handfuls of the rats and wove their tails tigl together and

flung them across his shoulders. Sharp cl; skidded on the

smooth armour and brittle spines rattled rage but Arbel only

laughed. 'Any warrior I embrace; draw within the cloak will

be bitten into the darkness!'

 

Kruel laughed with delight, running his fingers throw the

cloak of shadow rats, letting their sharp claws cling bri to

him. 'You, brother, will strike terror into all you meet your

swarming shadows, while I, who have the power to d the

sun a shadow, will bring darkness across Elundium this my

father's malice. It will stand on every hilltop, s] and spire

until there is nothing, nothing but black night. then in-final

triumph, Thanehand, the foul Galloperspa will be hung here

in this chamber to rot in my darkness!'

 

'Lead us onwards,' shouted Arbel, throwing the squea

cloak of shadow rats back across his armoured shoulders

turning towards the secret road that spiralled down thrc the

heart of Mantern's Mountain, down into the to beneath the

fortress of IJnderfall.

 

'No,' hissed Kruel, turning and looking up through

broken dome at the fading sunlight. 'My darkness is air'

creeping through the fortress of Underfall, there are she

rats and weed worms in the tomb of the Granite Kings. will

begin the great darkness here on the summit of 1` tern's

Mountain. Come, it is time to trample the sunlig] Elundium

into the shadows. It is time to reopen the Gat

 

ANT: Ad. ~

 

Night.'

 

186

 

The Battle Crescents are Broketl

 

Long summer days had drawn to an end; it was time for many

partings. Thane sighed sadly and looked out of the Granite

Tower across a changing landscape to where autumn leaves

were already edged with the beginnings of white winter frost.

 

'Tomorrowlight you must return to Stumble Hill,' he

murmured, turning to Kyot, 'before first winter snows block the

Greenways.'

 

Kyot nodded silently and stared out across the maze of roofs

that spread below them in ever-widening circles until they

vanished in a haze of blue cooking smoke, fogging the

shadows of the great wall. Frowning, Kyot looked beyond the

City and for a moment stared at the neat rows of ancient trees:

since the wedding ties they had seemed to draw closer to the

Granite City. He turned and took a deep breath. 'You must call a

Battle Council to discuss your safety before the City empties.'

 

'Battle Council!' laughed Thane. 'What need would that

serve but to quicken warriors' hearts? No, no, there is no need

for that, I am safe enough now that the Nightmare is dead.

Tomorrowlight the last of the warriors will depart; you to

Stumble Hill, Thunderstone to Underfall, and Fairday- ' Thane

paused and smiled ' - perhaps the Maker of Glass arrowblades

will travel with you, taking the Greenway to Stumble Hill.'

 

Kyot blushed and looked away. 'I love him dearly, Thane,

 

187

 

abut the tower is a grim place of . . . of . . .'Kyot's voice traile

away as he searched for the words, looking for a way

 

explain how difficult it would be having Eventine's father, d

Master of Clatterford, beneath his roof.

 

Thane laughed and gripped Kyot's arm. 'Yes, Kyot, Cla

terford is a magical place, full of breathtaking beauty that w

always outshine your Tower; but Stumble Hill is a jewel

 

Elundium, a rare treasure, that stands alone at the crossroad

worn smooch by the rub of Nightbeasts guarding the way

Underfall and keeping the Greenway open. See it for moment

through others' eyes, see die proud Archers ev watchful in

the casement slips, listen to the sweet music die armourers'

hammers, for it was a place of war that ke us safe through

the darkest nights.'

 

'If there was a beauty in our ever watchfulness, if it was

doing that you took pride in so much, then listen to me no

Call the Council, let chose who love you prepare for d

daylights ahead,' implored Kyot.

 

'No! No,' snapped Thane, remembering Nevian's word of

counsel and knowing that he must keep his fear a seers from

Kyot. 'I am the King and I say that there will be

 

Council nor a guard on the Granite City. We are at pea' do

you hear me? There will be no Battle Council.' :

 

Kyot paled and slowly knelt, his hand shaking as he he

out the great Bow of Orm. 'Lord,' he said, 'there are rumour of

a new darkness in the wild lands near Underfall, but y are my

King and Master and are wise in all doings. Fork me, for I

spoke from the heart as one who loves you and be; for your

safety. I spoke as your . . .' Kyot hesitated, his vow trailing.

He dared not say 'friend' or 'brother' from She ta of Thane's

voice and the hard glitter in his eyes. Today v not a daylight

for remembering a hard road shared tolled Today he was a

King who would not be crossed.

 

Thane touched the Bow of Orm, and signalled Kyot rise,

then dismissed him kindly, knowing that he was clang'

ously near to sharing his fears with his one true fries

 

188

 

~_.

 

'Tomorrowlight,' he said solidly, gripping Kyot's hand, 'we will

drink from the Wayside Cup before you start on the long road

home. Thunderstone shall be first for his is the longest road.

Durondel, the armourer, Duclos and Morolda shall follow,

leading out the warriors of the battle crescents that swept the

Nightbeasts from Elundium. We will watch them together and

remember our black road into the City of Night.'

 

'I shall worry each daylight for your safety,' Kyot whispered,

his hand upon the door.

 

'Then be my watchman,' answered Thane, taking a pace after

Kyot. 'Send me word if new shadows grow or if there are

whispers of a new darkness to threaten the sunlight. Keep a

keen edge on your arrowblades, watch each new . . .' Thane

hesitated, he knew he had almost said too much but it was

difficult being a king, keeping secrets, always watching, always

walking alone even when the crowds pressed all around

shouting your name, seeking your favours.

 

'Go quickly,' he whispered, sighing sadly, knowing that he

must trust no one until he knew more of the shadows

troubling Nevian and blackening Elionbel's heart. Pacing to the

window, he watched Kyot leave the tower and run across the

bridge spanning Swanwater, down into the bustling streets

below.

 

'He may be King and the bravest man in all Elundium but I fear

for him,' whispered Kyot, keeping pace with Thunderstone as

they entered the breaking yards.

 

Thunderstone shook his head. 'There is nothing, nodding

we can do, Kyot, if Thane will not call a Council nor a guard

against the future. We must follow his will for we are all

pledged to serve him.'

 

'He has disbanded the battle crescents,' Grey Goose

muttered moving closer to Kyot. 'Warriors are to become

farmers, servers, even Candlemen. He says that is the way

forwards to a better Elundium.'

 

189

 

aKyot threw his hands up in despair. 'Who will guard the i

Greenways? Am I to put down my bow and harvest the

 

grasslands?'

 

Eventine laughed softly and squeezed Kyot's hand. 'Do you

remember that bowl of corn I left at your feet in the

grasslands? Well, that is more than ready for hanest.'

 

Kyot frowned at her and almost answered harshly but the

gende laughter in her eyes stopped him.

 

'We will find a way to keep Thane safe,' she whispered. 'We

will not sleep nor let the arrows grow blunt in the quiver. Each

one of us will watch over him. Come, let us pledge ourselves to

be Keepers of the King's safety. What say you to

 

that?'

 

Silently they clasped hands, one above the other:

Thunderstone, Kyot, Eventine, Grey Goose and Breakmaster.

'To the King!' whispered Fairday, casting his sky-washed cloak

across his shoulder and placing his slender hand upon dl.

others.

 

'The best of the Nighthorses shall stand ready saddled;

whispered Thunderstone. 'for I love my King more than lif

itself.'

 

'Archers in a strike shall crouch Pidgin the lower Stumble

Hill,' whispered Kyot, 'for whether Thane wants or not we are

as brothers and I love him.'

 

'Tanglecrown will carry me fleet of foot,' whispers

Eventine.

 

'I will watch over She King night and

 

day,' whispers

Breaimaster. 'Mulberry and Beaconlight shall be saddle

ready, watch for them on She Greenway.'

 

'What of Tombel and Thoron? Surely they should be pa

of us?' asked Grey Goose, turning careful Archer's e, towards

the low shadows that flanked the courtyard.

 

'They dare not, for they are too close to Thane in blood

answered a whisper from She shadows. 'And they could n

keep secret what you pledge, for it goes against the Kin

wishes and whispers of treason.'

 

190

 

'Treason!' cried Thunderstone, his hand upon the horsetail

hilt of his sword. 'Come forwards and I will teach you, whoever

you are, how to use the word treason, for I love my King.'

 

Nevian laughed and stepped quickly into the courtyard

taking each one of Hem by the hand and drawing them into

the shadows. 'Be seated,' he urged, pointing to a circle of stone

benches, 'for there is much to say.'

 

'Why do you whisper of treason?' Breakmaster asked,

spreading his hands. 'All we strive to do is keep our King from

harm.'

 

'He has become blind to reason,' interrupted Kyot angrily,

'disbanding She bathe crescents! Hasn't he heard the rumours

of new shadows in the wild lands? Why he is turning us all

into farmers or the like!'

 

Nevian smiled and pressed cool fingers on Kyot's lips. 'You,

Kyotorm, must be especially patient for you are as a brother to

Thane, bound close by shared hardships.'

 

'Brothers!' hissed Kyot. 'He will not have me speak as a

brother, but forces me to bend in each argument. He wields his

kingship until I bow and scrape as any other man, courting

favours to dodge his temper!'

 

Nevian frowned. 'No! No, you speak now through the

rawness of new hurt, but remember, Kyot, that Thane is a king,

remember that for him true friends are hard to find and that one

voice amongst the clamour for his favours is not easily heard.'

 

'I want nodding!' cried Kyot, jumping to his feet. 'Nothing

but to see Thane safe.'

 

'Then you do want something and like every other man that

seeks an audience you tried to bend his will to your

advantage. You forget that Thane must stand by his

judgements, right or wrong, if he is to govern Elundium and

build a better world out of the ruins and ashes left by the

Nightbeasts.'

 

191

 

a'So by keeping my sword sharp I go against the King and

dabble in treason?' muttered Thunderstone.

 

Nevian smiled and waited until the last Lampmaster had

subsided into silence. 'You see too much in what Thane lies

ordered and you have twisted his words to suit your anger He

said nothing of reforging your weapons but sends each warrior

back to his home. What would you do? Have ever warrior

sitting idly through each daylight here in the Granite City?'

Nevian paused, his eyes sparkling with bright light ask he held

Thunderstone's gaze. 'But if in your wisdom and farsight you

fear for the King you may, through careful watchfulness, hold

the safety of all Elundium in your sword; arms.'

 

'How so?' asked Fairday, leaning forwards to touch the hem

of the rainbow cloak. 'There is secrecy in your words and halfveiled

threats on the edge of your tongue.'

 

Nevian shivered and shrank back into the folds of th

rainbow cloak, drawing

 

it ti htly about his shoulders as

 

as.........                      --- - v g  .

 

searched the eyes of those gathered around him, debat

how much he should tell them of his fears.

 

'I grow more cautious with each daylight for this cloak

bright colours should have faded with the passing of the ~

Granite King, my power used up, yet its colours grow

strength daylight by daylight. I cannot tell you what I fear it

is there on the edges of the wind and in each soft shad

Elundium seems to hold its breath as if waiting for st black

tragedy.'

 

~ 'Does the King know of your fears?' asked Breakmas

'Surely if. . .'

 

Nevian nodded his head, hushing the horseman silence.

'Thane fears and worries yet wherever he looks sunlight

sparkles ever brightly, thus on my counsel he disbanded

the bathe crescents to spread eyes and Throughout

Elundium. We may be worrying over nothing raise false

fears.'

 

192

 

: ~

 

'But what would you counsel us to do as we huddle here, a

tight ring of conspirators?' asked Fairday.

 

Nevian smiled and "athered a hand from each of them, one

above the other, in a pledging knot. 'I would say you are wise

to worry for Thane's safety and I would bind you, each of you,

to watch with careful eyes.' Nevian hesitated, his forehead

wrinkled in a thousand folds. Sharing secrets was never an

easy task for one word led on to another and he must choose

his words carefully. 'And I pledge you to watch over your

Queen Elionbel, for a black shadow haunts her heart and I fear

for her in the darker stretches of the night. Guard her closely,

Breakmaster and Grey Goose, until the shadow passes, for you

shall both be the closest to hand here in the Granite City.'

 

'The shadow she carries,' Eventine muttered, turning a

smooth polished arrowshaft carefully between her fingers, 'it

was there on the high plateau. Elionbel brought it out of the

City of Night: it was there in Martbel's funeral pyre. There was

a great tragedy that Elionbel would not speak about but the

weight of which already bowed her shoulders. It is a burden

too heavy for one person alone to carry.'

 

Nevian looked up sharply. 'What was that you saw in the

flames? Tell me!' he urged.

 

Eventine thought back to the ghost tails of swirling mist on

the high plateau, the tramp of armoured boots closing all

around them and the quick hiss of Thane's spark as it burst

into light and spread greedily Through the dry kindling wood

of the pyre. Frowning, she scratched absently at the polished

shaft. 'Nothing. There was nothing save a shrivelled corpse

tightly wrapped in a ragged cloak.'

 

'Think! Think!' cried Nevian, clasping at Eventine's hands.

Go back to the high plateau in your mind. Stand as you did

beside the pyre, remember everything, each crackle of the

flames, each cry of sorrow, and then tell me what you saw that

looked out of place.'

 

Eventine bit her lip and cried out. 'There! There!' she

 

193

 

shouted pointing down into the circle of stone benches |

between the feet of the others. 'There on the fire's edge are

 

the bloody hems of Martbel's skirt.'

 

'And?' whispered Nevian gently. 'What else was there to

 

see.>'    I

 

Eventine shook her head and looked us?, the memory

fading away. 'That was all I saw, the bloody hems of Martbel's

skirt, and Elionbel's terror. The hoofbeats sounded across

the steep slopes of Mantern's Mountain and I looked up to

see Tanglecrown and the two Border Runners leading Sprint

and Stumble down on to the high plateau. All around us

Marchers were emerging through the black fog. Tombel

knelt at the pyre's edge, he had handfuls of hot ash trickling

though his fingers.'

 

Nevian frowned and withdrew into the rainbow cloak: a

dark figure, shrouded in thought, he paced beneath the low

arches and strode from shadow to shadow. 'Did you scatter

the pyre?' he asked, stopping before the circle of stone:

benches.

 

'No,' answered Kyot after a moment's thought. 'Tombel

scattered a handful of Martbel's ashes to the four winds and

then we left the high plateau to descend to the Causeway

Field.'

 

Nevian turned and stared out across the sand school before

gripping Breakmaster's hand. 'Keep special watch over yOLn

Queen,' he whispered.

 

Turning to Thunderstone he touched the hilt of the

horsetail sword. 'Seek out the fastest of the Nighthorses ant

have them ready saddled.'

 

Turning to the Archers he crossed the bows of Orm ark

Clatterford. 'You are love-matched and these great bows we

yet sing together in the service of your King. Be prepare.

 

with new-forged arrows in the quiver.'

 

Turning to Grey Goose he took the Captain Archer's hen

and held it for a moment. 'Archer strikes,' he whispers

closing his eyes and trying to look far into the future, b

 

194

 

sadly he saw only dim shapes retreating in wild disorder

towards a mound or a hill that shone bright white above the

shadows.

 

'I fear that darkness may lie ahead, Grey Goose, and your

King will have great need of your steady hand and careful

Archer's eye. Gather the Bowmen of the Granite City and

form them into secret strikes. Do not alarm the people of the

City but be ready lest the sunlight fails.'

 

'Lord,' cried Grey Goose, watching the magician melting

away, 'how shall I marshal the bowmen?'

 

Nevian's voice laughed and echoed through the empty

courtyards.'Be ready, all of you, in secret watchful wakefulness.

Be ready . . . '

 

Thane waited, sitting easily upon Esteron's back. Beside

him Elion was on Stumble in the shadow of the great gate.

Kyot and Eventine were mounted ready for the journey

home, waiting just beyond the gate and watching the long

columns of Marchers, Gallopers and Archers assemble in the

lower circles of the city.

 

'Todaylight,' Thane cried, standing in his stirrups and

holding the Wayside Cup aloft, 'todaylight you shall journey

home as men of peace. Equal men, each one casting his own

shadow in honest labour. The nightmare, Krulshards, is dead

and the bathe against the darkness is over. But be watchful

and ever ready as you plough and cut a deep furrow in He

rich soil of Elundium. It is time to rest the sword and unstring

the bow, to break the bathe crescents and Hank the brave

Warhorses and the fearless Border Runners that fought

beside us.' Thane paused and smiled, his rein-hand gendy

 

caressing Mulcade's shiny talons. 'It is time,' he said in a

proud yet quiet voice, 'to Hank the brave battle Owls and the

grey swans of doom, to Hank each and every one who fought

beneath our standard for Hey came freely and gave so much

that we might have His sunlit freedom. Forget Hem not as

You drink with me, Warriors of Elundium, for I pledge you

 

195

 

abefore you depart to drink a last battle cup at the Greenways'

edge to a thousand daylights of peace.'

 

'Peace! Peace!' rose the chant throughout the lower circles of

the city as the great press of warriors from Stumble Hi11 and

Underfa11 surged towards the gates.

 

Ogion beat a clear path of white spray across Swanwater and

spread his wings in graceful flight above Stumble Gate. Stoops

of Battle OwIs flew low across the morning sun, wheeling and

turning beneath the high arched gate. Grannog, Lord of Dogs,

broke cover from beneath the ancient trees and led the Border

Runners in a huge pack into the shadows of the great wall,

while beyond the first bend of the Greenway the ground

trembled beneath the thunder of hooves as Equestrius, Lord of

Horses, brought the Warhorses in a

 

mighty crescent within a league of the Granite City.  :'

 

Thane laughed with tears in his eyes and broke the binding

cords on the summer scarf letting the standard of the sun

spread out in the morning sunlight. 'I thank you all forever and

ever,' he shouted, spurring Esteron forwards towards the

crescent, and galloped out of the City.

 

Equestrius halted the Warhorses and waited for Thane, the

dust settling around them in a drifting fog. Granno. barked

once and led the Border Runners out of the shadow. and away

from the city, following closely on Esteron's heels.

 

Thane halted in the centre of the Warhorses and disc

mounted before Equestrius. Kneeling, he offered up the

summer scarf. 'We should have many thousand daylights o

peace but I fear new shadows are rising to threaten the sunlight

of Elundium. Would you search for me in all the wild places and

bring me word?'

 

Equestrius snorted, arched his neck and struck at ground

with his foreleg. Thane laughed, here among the Warhorses and

the Border Runners there was little need for words and promises

to hide the fears gnawing away inside him.

 

Grannog barked and lay down at Thane's feet. 'Come to

me often with every scrap of news,' Thane whispered, running

his hand through the dog's thick sable coat.

 

Esteron brushed his soft muzzle on Thane's cheek and

pulled at the bridle to follow Equestrius. 'You are a Lord of

Horses,' Thane whispered, knowing he must allow Esteron to

run with the Warhorses. He unbuckled the girths on Esteron's

saddle and took it off, then untied the bridle knot and took the

bit out of Esteron's mouth. 'I love you,' he cried his arms tightly

clasped around the horse's neck.

 

Esteron hesitated, snorted and pressed his head against

Thane and began to kneel. 'No! No! It is just as King Holbian

said, you are free, you belong to no man, not even a King,'

cried Thane, stepping back quickly. 'My tears must not keep

you. Remember that time we fought together in the sand

school? You were a Lord of Horses then, who would have run

free if the gates had been open. Remember?'

 

Thane stopped, trying to swallow the lump rising in his

throat. 'Remember,' he whispered, as the picture of Esteron

fighting his way across the hollow to rescue Elionbel formed

clearly in his mind and he remembered the countless other

times they had stood alone and together against the darkness.

 

You must go,' he cried, gathering his failing courage and

pushing the horse away. 'Go before I weaken and claim you as

my own. Go and be free, run in all the wild and secret places,

but if anything threatens the sunlight come back to me and we

will fight it together.'

 

Equestrius neighed fiercely and moved between Thane and

Esteron, nudging the horse into the crescent. Equestrius

turned and snorted at Thane, holding his gaze with his soft

eyes as if thanking him for keeping faith, for here in the final

moment when Esteron sought his freedom Thane had kept

nothing, no matter how precious, that was not his own.

 

Mulcade tightened his talons on Thane's shoulder and

hooted softly. Fly, great Bird of War,' he whispered, turning

his head and looking into Mulcade's unblinking eyes. 'Search

for my sake over all Elundium and watch over Esteron, keep

him safe.'

 

Mulcade bobbed his head backwards and forwards brushing

his beak against Thane's cheek, hooting and quarrelling

with soft gurgling sounds. Thane tried to laugh, blinking at

his tears. 'Go, you foolish bird, you are free and belong to no

man. Use your sharp eyes to keep the sunlight safe.'

 

Mulcade hooted and spread his wings. He rose slowly from

Thane's shoulder, circled once and followed the fading

hoofbeats. Thane stood on the dusty turf and wept. 'What

say you now, Nevian?' he whispered. 'Have I spread my eyes

and ears far enough across Elundium, chasing half-fears that

hide in the shadows?'

 

For a moment a shadow crossed the sun, touching the

place where Thane stood and he looked up, but the owl had

gone and the sky was empty. There was nothing now but the

tramp of warriors' feet and the dull measured beat of horses'

hooves along the Greenway. The battle crescents were

breaking up. The warriors were returning home.

 

 

The Rising

 

Willow held up his gnarled, blackened fingers, and the

Tunnellers halted silently and crouched down as he passed

between them.

 

'Wait!' he whispered, motioning to Oakapple to keep close

to him as he parted the thick tangle of wild grass and weedchoked

bushes bordering the edge of the overgrown Greenway.

He caught his breath as he gazed out at the huge mound

of dark earth towering above them. It was steep and in places

it seemed to rise in sheer, narrow, flower-decked steps that

swept up to an unknown summit beyond their sight. Along

the base it looked as if there had once been a deep dyke now

thick with low-branched tangle trees and hangman's creepers.

 

Oakapple shivered and turned away. 'What has brought us

to this place?' she whispered.

 

'The trees,' answered Willow, pointing with a crooked

finger. 'We have been following the magic trees, they have

brought us here. Haven't you listened to their voices? For

many daylights now this mound has been a beacon rising

above the landscape and pulling us forwards. Look, look at it.

There is something about it from the Elder's tales, I know it.'

 

Oakapple shook her head. 'No, it is a place of evil, of great

tragedy. I can feel it in the air and almost taste it. Where are

the sweeps of hills and secret lakes you spoke of? This place

is wild and desolate, it makes my skin crawl.'

 

Willow laughed softly, satisfied that nobody evil was at the

mound and stepped out on to the overgrown Greenway. 'If

this is the place in the Elder's tales then time and wildness

have merely spread a cloak across its beauty. Come, come let

us climb to the summit. Let us see what lies beyond.'

 

Oakapple shook her head but followed reluctantly as

Willow began to explore the base of the mound. 'Over here!'

he cried. 'Look! There was once a gate and something that

spanned the dyke.'

 

'There are the beginnings of another Greenway over here,'

called a voice from amongst the Tunnellers.

 

'And here!' shouted another.

 

Darkness had long fallen before Willow and the Tunnellers

had finished exploring the outer edges of the dyke and found

a way across to the first sheer rise of the mound.

 

'By starlight we will follow that narrow ledge to the summit

of the mound. Keep in single file,' he called carefully, moving

forward. Twice he nearly slipped sending loose earth rattling

down into the tangle trees below, and each time where the

earth had been dislodged something bright white and smooth

to the touch shone in the starlight.

 

'There are white rocks in this mound,' he whispered,

turning his head to where Oakapple clung on to the sheer

face of the rise just behind him.

 

She shuddered, curling the arches of her feet over the

smooth stones lining the centre of the ledge. 'I feel as if I am

walking on bones,' she hissed, digging her fingers into the

soft earth of the sheer face of the mound, clutching at smooth

tree roots or narrow spines of rock to keep her balance.

 

Willow laughed softly. This was the place the voices in the

trees had whispered about, even in the darkness he could see

for leagues and leagues across the countryside below. This

was the place to build a fortress against the darkness. A

fastness rising above the shadows. The ledge began to flatten,

widening into a broad path as it reached the summit. Before

them stretched a flat plateau crowded with the ruins of long

low buildings. A single tower lay broken and creeper-tangled

in the centre. Willow stopped on the edge and carefully

searched each night shadow.

 

'Make camp on the plateau rim beneath the stars,' he

called in a hushed whisper. 'Tomorrowlight we will explore

this rising and begin the task of building a fortress against

this new darkness.'

 

Oakapple sank wearily on to the hard earth beside Willow

and drew her cloak around them both. 'We are here,' he

whispered, shaking his head at the last bruised forest fruit

she held out to him. 'You eat it. It will give you strength.' He

smiled in the darkness. 'I must watch through the grey hours

and see how the sun first touches this rising with the new

morning light, and then I will know how to build, where to

make the entrance, the walls, the . . .' Willow's head slumped

as sleep overtook him.

 

Oakapple frowned with worry and drew him close to her.

Ever since she had found him, crippled with terror in the

tombs of Underfall, he had eaten little and driven himself

without rest in this quest to find a fortress against the

darkness. He had grown bone-thin and ragged with worry,

refusing even the smallest offer of help, and he would let

none carry him now that Starlight had departed to find her

foal.

 

Willow mumbled something in his sleep and snuggled

against Oakapple, who smiled softly, holding him close on

the hard earth. 'One daylight,' she whispered, watching the

grey hours light the sky, 'one daylight in better times we will

sleep in a feather bed.'

 

Frowning, she thought back to the Elder's tales she had

first heard in the darkness of the City of Night. She searched

her memory but no matter how hard she looked there were

no feather beds or easy times, just all the beauty of the sunlit

 

world painted with loving care in brilliant detail.

 

Willow stirred beside her and opened his eyes. It was warm

beneath the cloak and Oakapple's skin felt soft against him.

He yawned and sat up, stretching cramped legs and crooked

fingers as the sun breasted World's End. 'Look!' he

whispered. 'Look how the first shaft of sunlight touched the

rim of the summit. There! That must have been the entrance to

the high place. Yes, look, Here are the traces of a wide ramp,

now little more than a dip in the ground, leading down to the

shadows below.'

 

'It would be very steep,' answered Oakapple, peering

cautiously across the sheer side of the rising to where the

ramp vanished into the darkness below.

 

'Yes, yes,' answered Willow, an edge of impatience in his

voice as he struggled to his feet, 'but there are countless suns

of rubbish, trees and undergrowth blocking the ramp; it will be

a gentler slope when it is cleared and dressed with new stone.'

 

All around tHem the Tunnellers were waking up, yawning and

stretching in the warm sunlight and looking with curious eyes

on the place far above the wild countryside Willow had

brought them to in the darkness.

 

'The trees have settled on the edge of the Greenway!'

laughed one of the Tunnellers. 'Look, Willow, they are

standing in neat rows all around the crossroads below this

mound.'

 

Willow smiled. 'The trees are a good omen for this place.

Now we must search each blade of grass, each rock and stone

to learn all we can before we build a fortress.'

 

'The narrow ledge we climbed in the night is the same

height as we are,' shouted an excited voice from further down

the rising. 'There are round stones as smooth as marble set in

the path. They gleam white. There are . . . they are . . .' the

voice trailed away as anxious faces peered down over the lip of

the summit.

 

'What are tHey? What have you found?' called Willow,

hurrying down the narrow ledge to where Fernleaf the

Tunneller knelt with a trowel of soft earth in his shaking hand.

'What have you found?' Willow almost shouted as he shook

Fernleaf by the shoulders.

 

'Eyes!' whispered the white-faced Tunneller, pointing with

his trowel. 'Diamond-hard and as smooth as glass. They stare

out across the wild countryside. Look for yourself!'

 

Willow took the trowel into his crippled hands. Locking his

fingers around the smooth wooden handle, he carefully

scraped away at the soft earth just below the narrow ledge,

working his way downwards across the top of a smooth white

stone. 'Eyes!' he cried, letting the trowel slip from his fingers

and clatter its way into the tangle trees below. He knelt and

brushed away the rest of the earth to reveal the forehead and

cheekbones of an ancient skull.

 

Standing, Willow cleaned the earth from his fingers and

looked closely at the sheer wall of the rising. 'There are others

here,' he called to the anxious faces above. He turned, loosed

his dagger and scraped at the wall, dislodging the soft earth

and weed roots clinging between the smooth bleached bones.

He moved a pace along the ledge and exposed another two

staring diamond-bright eyes, set in hollow bones. Below the

grinning jaw was a stark angular rib cage crushed flat into the

wall of the rising

 

Oakapple cried out in terror and fell on to her knees, burying

her head in her hands. 'I could feel them through the soles of

my feet,' she sobbed. 'We scrambled over a thousand bodies

to reach the summit of this burial mound. Look! Look!' she

shouted, pointing everywhere at once. 'Even here on the

summit we are standing on the bones of ... Of . . .'

 

Willow resheathed his dagger and hurried back to the

summit where he took Oakapple in his arms. 'No! You judge too

quickly. This place is more than just a burial mound. Be still

and give me time to search amongst the ruins.'

 

'Willow, Willow,' a voice shouted from somewhere halfway

down the sheer face of the rising. 'Come quickly!'

 

'Give me time,' Willow muttered to Oakapple as he rose and

 

ran to the beginnings of the steep ramp. 'Where are you?'

he cried, pushing his way down Through the waist-high

bushes and sharp-thorned tangle trees.

 

'Here! Down here on the edge of the ramp.'

 

Willow scrambled down, cutting his crippled hands again

and again as he lost his footing until Fernleaf caught him and

pulled him on to the beginnings of a ledge.

 

'Chains!' he exclaimed, scratching his head and peering at

the shackled skeleton Fernleaf had unearthed.

 

'They are all chained together,' added the Tunneller

fearfully. 'In one unending circle they spiral up the sheer face

of the rising. We are standing beside a solid wall of bones!'

 

'Thousands must have been slaughtered to raise this

mound,' whispered Willow, looking up across the face of the

rising.

 

'Many more than that,' answered Fernleaf. 'There are

bodies behind those that we can see, they stand a solid crush

of bones that goes deeper than I can reach with my searcher.

But it is the eyes! Why haven't Hey rotted with the rest of the

flesh? Why do tHey stare so brightly from the eye sockets?'

 

'Perhaps they watch for danger, or some other thing,'

ventured Willow. 'Whatever these poor wretches were

slaughtered for, to guard or to watch, I am sure tHis must

have been a fortress once, long ago before the dust of ages

settled between the bones and hid its purpose. But who were

these helpless victims that now guard the rising, and who

would have dared put so many of them to the sword?'

 

'Perhaps we are standing on a tomb,' called Oakapple, her

voice shaking with fear, 'just like the tomb of the Granite

Kings beneath the fortress of Underfall. It may be a sacred

place best left undisturbed.'

 

'No!' said Willow. 'There is no place for chains in tombs.

These people were set here for a purpose. Look how the

white bones catch the light, see how they reflect the sunlight!' '

 

'If we cleaned the earth away and polished the bones . . .'

whispered Fernleaf, rubbing the tail of his cloak on the

weathered cheekbone and high-domed forehead of the nearest

skull.

 

'Yes!' Willow gasped, shading his eyes against the soft

autumn sunlight reflected with burning brightness. 'And the

eyes will reflect each station of the sunlight. The Rising will

be a blaze of light!'

 

Willow nodded with excitement and ran back to the

summit. He gathered the Tunnellers into a dense circle all

around him. Pausing, he held up his twisted and blackened

fingers then waited for silence. 'Tunnellers!' he cried.

'Whatever I have asked of you, you have done without

question, even following the trees here to this rising of bones

in the wilderness of Elundium. Keep faith with me now and

labour as you have never done before. Scrape away the loose

earth and polish bright the bones; clear the dykes and rebuild

the fallen tower. Make this a strong fortress, a castle rising

sheer against the new darkness. Make this a place where your

King can retreat, beleaguered and battered by the new

Nightmare, a place where he can rest and gather his strength.

For I forewarn you that this rising, this brittle hill of bones,

shall be the last place in all Elundium to stand against the sea

of darkness.'

 

Oakapple bit her knuckles and shivered, the circle of

Tunnellers tightened, white-lipped and frightened, pressing

in around Willow.

 

'Make haste,' he whispered, the sound dry and crackling

in his throat, 'lest our work is not finished before the darkness

spreads.'

 

 

Darkness Takes the Fortress of Underfall

 

'Go before me, fool!' snapped Silverpurse prodding the

Loremaster savagely in the back with the point of his sword.

 

Pinchface muttered under his breath, wishing the treacherous

Chancellor's son had perished beside his foul father,

Proudpurse, at the height of the Chancellor's treachery.

 

'What?' hissed Silverpurse. 'What did you say?'

 

'A warrior holds the Greenway against us,' mumbled the

Loremaster, pointing ahead to a single Marcher who stood

less than twenty paces before them.

 

- Silverpurse halted and cast a nervous glance into the dense

shadows on either side of the Greenway. 'Where are we?' he

whispered, pulling the Loremaster closer to him. 'Is there a

village or a Wayhouse nearby?'

 

Pinchface frowned and shook his head. 'No, Master, we

have been wandering for so long, lost in Mantern's Forest

that I am not sure where we are, but I think we are near to

the fortress of Underfall. Yes, this must be the ancient road

that leads from Notley Marsh to the very gates of the Palace

of Kings. And over there is the stinking marsh where we hid

from King Holbian.'

 

'Chancellor!' hissed Silverpurse fiercely and, raising his

armoured fist against the Loremaster's face, continued: 'To

honour my father you will call me Chancellor, for that will be

my true title once I have enough strength to slay the Granite

King and take Elundium as my own.'

 

'Yes, Chancellor, yes,' cried Pinchface, shrinking away.

Silverpurse glanced briefly at the cringing Loremaster and

pushed him back roughly on to the crown of the road. 'Go to

the black-clad warrior and find out what he wants. Ask him

for news of King Holbian, search out some truth to our

advantage.'

 

Pinchface-hesitated, there was something fearful - no,

terrifying - about the black-armoured warrior. The air

around him seemed to be swallowed in darkness and his

cloak and tunic moved without the slightest breath of air,

rattling and swaying as it rippled up over the Marcher's

shoulders.

 

'Go! Go now!' hissed Silverpurse impatiently, thrusting

the point of his blade between the Loremaster's shoulders

and making him stagger forwards to fall at Arbel's feet.

 

Arbel smiled, his armoured lips curling back into a welcoming

whisper of laughter. 'Welcome! Welcome!' he cried,

spreading the living cloak of shadow rats to embrace the

Loremaster.

 

'No!' screamed Pinchface trying to stumble away from the

horror. He could see the hard black glitter of a thousand rats'

eyes, sharp claws were clutching at his clothing, plaited tails

were thrashing in rising waves of darkness and teeth were

tearing at his face and hands. Arbel had closed the cloak of

shadow rats about the Loremaster's shoulders, and while the

darkness swept through him in waves of terror he beckoned

Silverpurse, pulling him forwards. A shadow rat jumped from

his hand and bit the Chancellor's son, warming and tingling

him, etching the shadows of night through his body, and

showing him more power than ten Granite Kings could dare

to hold in a world without light. Somewhere nearby a

Nightbeast roared and Silverpurse saw the tall slender figure

of Kruel standing before him, seeming to fill the crown of

the Greenway with his power.

 

Silverpurse stretched out his hands to touch his new

master. 'Lord of Darkness,' he murmured through tingling

lips.

 

Kruel laughed and pushed Silverpurse down on to his

knees, plucking the shadow rat from Silverpurse's shoulder

and letting it drop to the ground where it scuttled away

amongst the trees. 'False Chancellor!' he hissed, breaking

the trance that had shown him all Silverpurse's secrets. 'You

would have stolen the crown of Elundium from your father,

taking for your own what he tried to steal treacherously from

the last Granite King. I know each treacherous thought and

every hidden secret in your head, but you are too late, for

The crown of Elundium lays smashed into a Thousand pieces

in the tombs of Underfall, and Thanehand, the cursed

Galloperspawn, has snatched the throne of Elundium while

you crept away Through the stinking marsh to hide in

 

Mantern's Forest.'

 

'Thanehand, the candlebrat we chased out of the Learning

Hall?' cried Silverpurse, his face black with rage. 'How could

that ragged candlecur we hounded through the streets of the

Granite City steal anything but the scraps from my table?

 

How?'

 

Kruel snarled, his lips curling in hatred. He reached out

and shook Silverpurse violently by the shoulders lifting him

off his feet then threw him down beside the Loremaster.

'You let Thanehand escape too easily, you treacherous fool

You could have killed him with one arrow strike while he was

nothing, before he stole the throne, before the Warhorse

 

Silverpurse shook with terror, crouching close to the

ground, hugging the coarse Greenway grasses. 'Master

Master, you know everything, you see each move we have

made,' he sobbed, reaching out towards Kruel's feet.

 

'Shallow, treacherous fool!' Kruel hissed, his voice heavy

with contempt as he trod on Silverpurse's fingers. 'I wil

swallow you now before I smother the daylight and destroy

Thanehand and all those who flock to his bright standard

Everything will vanish beneath my shadows, it is my right as

the Lord of Darkness to take Elundium as my own. But you

 

and the foul Batle Owls came to his aid.'

deceitful Chancellor's son, if you had the power you would

take from your own blood what doesn't belong to you. You

would use my darkness for your own ends.'

 

'Forgive me, Master, and let me serve you,' Silverpurse

cried, licking at his sore fingers. 'Let me prove my loyalty.'

 

Kruel laughed and beckoned Arbel and the Nightbeasts to

come to him. 'Shall we tread this treacherous Chancellor's

son into the Greenway turf and leave him a black mark of our

darkness, or . . .' Kruel paused with a hand on each nightbeast's

iron collar. 'Or shall we give him the Palace of Kings

to govern and keep it as the first fortress of my darkness?'

 

'Kill him!' snarled Kerhunge, straining against Kruel's

restraining hand.

 

'They are nothing but marsh creepers. Tread them both

into the Greenway,' hissed Kerzolde, wiping at the trail of

bubbling spittle that hung from his lips.

 

'No,' interrupted Arbel, stepping before the two Nightbeasts. '

This Chancellor's son will grow to hate Thanehand

with such a passion it will overshadow his greed and treachery.

He will make a good Chancellor of the Fortress of

Underfall but the other . . .' Arbel turned and pointed at the

quivering heap of rags and bones where the Loremaster

huddled, crying with pain and terror on the crown of the

road.

 

'He is mine,' cried Silverpurse. 'Let me prove my love and

loyalty and tread the Loremaster into the turf.'

 

Kruel laughed and kicked both Silverpurse and Pinchface,

sending them reeling into the mass of trees on the Greenways'

edge. 'Nothing is yours, fool, only the will to serve me

as your Master. I am Kruel the Shadowless, Lord of all

Elundium!'

 

'Master, Master,' whispered Silverpurse, crawling back on

to the Greenway and dragging the Loremaster by his cloak

tail behind him. 'We will both serve you faithfully.'

 

Kruel smiled, his eyes boring into Silverpurse, and nodded.

 

'Yes, you will, and the shadow rats will watch you closely

spreading their darkness all around you.'

 

Pausing in a moment of doubt, Kruel stretched out his

hand and lifted the Loremaster to his now-crippled feet

Frowning, he stared into his eyes, searching, probing, looking

for the truth. 'Mindless fool!' he hissed, seeing nothing but .

blank and muddled grey fog, before he let the wretched

 

Loremaster topple on to his knees.

 

'Follow!' he commanded Silverpurse without another

glance as he stepped on to the crown of the road and whistled

the shadow rats all around them.

 

'Follow me to the gates of Underfall!' he laughed, sure of

his power, blind and uncaring to the furtive sideways glances

of hatred well hidden beneath the Loremaster's hooded eyes.

 

'Curse your darkness!' Pinchface muttered, biting his

tongue against the burning pain that tore through his body as

he stumbled forwards on his hands and knees, not daring to

let his crippled feet touch the ground. All about him the

shadow rats swarmed out over the road, their brittle spines

rattling in the darkness as they forced him onwards.

 

'I must rest,' he wept, crumpling on to his side, beyond

caring that the rats were gnawing at his torn and twisted toes,

tHeir sharp cLaws scratching at his bloody knees. Wearily he

let his head sink to the ground. Without thinking he reached

out and with numbing fingers he felt something that glowed

white and soft in the nightmare darkness, something the rats

would not go near. The petals folded in his fingers: ward

and powdery they gave off a bittersweet scent that drove the

shadow rats into a rage of high pitched shrieks.

 

The Loremaster lifted his head, a whisper of laughter on

his tortured lips, and threw the Nightflower petals on to the

grass around him, clearing back the shadow rats. 'Nightflowers,'

 he whispered, pulling himself closer to the tumbled'

wall of broken stone and burying his hands among the bright

white petals. Sighing, he began to sink down as the heavy

scent filled his head. Deep deep down he heard old whispered

chants and remembered the legends carved above the doorway

of the ruined Wayhouse Hut of Thorns: For any Man or

Beast who loves the Light shall rest . . .

 

'Loremaster! Loremaster!' Pinchface shook himself awake

and sat up. Silverpurse was angrily shouting for him. A

thousand black shadow rats crowded around his feet in

hideous waves of darkness, waiting for the magic of the

flowers to fade. 'Loremaster, where are you?' shouted Silverpurse.

He was closer now to the ruined hut and Pinchface

knew he must move quickly to keep his secret.

 

He bent forwards and stripped the Nightflower vines

growing along the wall, snagging his fingers raw on their

sharp barbed thorns until he had crammed full a deep leather

pouch with their small white seeds. He pulled the drawstring

tight and hid the pouch beneath his ragged jerkin then

crawled back to the road leaving the safety of the flowers.

'Here, Chancellor,' he called. 'I fell into a black faint,' he

mumbled, shuddering as the shadow rats swarmed over his

hands and feet, their sharp claws scratching at his leathery

skin.

 

Silverpurse snarled and grabbed the Loremaster by his

cloak then pulled him roughly on to the crown of the road.

'Keep up, you fool,' he hissed, 'or those two Nightbeasts will

eat you for tHeir breakfast.'

 

Pinchface looked away and curled his lips in hatred of the

Chancellor's son as he scrambled along as fast as he could.

 

Evening was falling; the shadows were long across the

Greenway. Before them, sheer and terrible, granite-grey

against the fading light, rose the walls of Underfall. Silverpurse

laughed softly and pointed with an eager finger. 'That

will be mine, Loremaster, all mine to guard for the Lord of

Darkness. And you will be my Gatekeeper. Come, hurry, you

miserable wretch, the Lord of Darkness grows impatient

 

before the doors of Underfall.'

 

'Look, the doors are opening,' cried Pinchface, 'without a

single arrow loosed or a shout of defence. The Palace of

Kings has surrendered!'

 

Silverpurse clapped his hands with delight and pushed the

Loremaster out from beneath the ancient trees and on to the

Causeway Field. 'Your first task, Gatekeeper will be to clear

away these gnarled old trees that line the Greenways' edge.

They look almost too rotten for burning but I'll wager a

barrel of tallow wax they will make a blaze to celebrate our

victory!'

 

Kruel and Arbel stood between the great doors of Underfall

unsure of their victory and counting the warriors that

knelt in a broad circle across the cobbles before them.

 

dozen guards, the Gatekeeper, and a handful of Watchmen

were all Thunderstone had left to guard World's End while

he and the warriors attended Thane's wedding ties in the

Granite City.

 

'This is no victory,' muttered Kruel, silencing the kneeling

warriors who held up their black-veined hands to greet him.

 

Shadow rats swarmed across the rough granite walls,

spreading their terror through the long galleries overhead.

Deep violet weed worms scuttled across the cobbles, their

high-arched stings dripping with venom.

 

'Search every room' snarled Kruel. 'There must be more

warriors hiding. Leave no stone unturned. Bring every warrior

to kneel before me!'

 

'Tiethorm the Archer has retreated up to the Lamp gallery

Master,' cried one of the kneeling guards.

 

'And Merion the healer has fled into the corner courtyard

They are the only two who have defied the darkness,' called

another traitor.

 

Kruel smiled, his anger calmed, and he searched the

Gatekeeper's mind to see just where the Keeper of Underfall

had escaped to, then stepped into the centre of the courtyard

'Watch my power, brother,' he whispered and drew Arbel to

his side as he drove the spearshaft holding the black malis

deep into the coWles. He let the shadowy fabric unfold and

float out to cast darkness and despair across the rough granite

walls. Searching the highest Lamp gallery with pitiless eyes,

Kruel called to Tiethorm, mocking him. 'Who dares to stand

against me, Kruel, the Master of Darkness and Lord of all

Elundium?'

 

Above them on the highest gallery the Lamp of Underfall

blazed out, bright white in the deepening shadows. 'I do!'

shouted a desperate voice. 'I, Tiethorm, First Archer of this

house. In Thunderstone's absence I guard the Light and trim

the wick against all shadows and take no man but Thanehand

as my rightful King!'

 

'Thanehand!' sneered Silverpurse entering the courtyard.

'He is nothing but a candlecur!'

 

'He is my King!' shouted Tiethorm angrily, nocking an

arrow on to the bow string and loosing it into the shadows

below.

 

Kruel laughed and pulled the Chancellor's son aside just

before the arrow struck the cobbles sending up a shower of

bright sparks. 'You shall wait beyond harm's way, Chancellor,'

he hissed, thrusting Silverpurse beneath a low archway

before he turned his pitiless eyes back towards the Lamp

gallery.

 

'Your King is nothing, Archer,' he whispered, 'and you

stand alone against the greatest power in all Elundium.'

 

'I love my King,' shouted Tiethorm, his hand trembling

with terror as he fumbled for another arrow. He could feel

 

Kruel's power filling the fortress, spreading over every stone,

every wall, even pushing against the locked door of the

highest gallery. Cowering against the Lamp, he nocked

another arrow on to the string of his bow and waited. 'Where

are you, Thunderstone?' he whispered in despair. 'Where are

you, Lampmaster? For I have counted the daylights and you

are long overdue. I cannot defend this fortress alone or

escape to warn the King. These black rats watch my every

move and none can leave while they guard the doors.'

 

Kruel laughed again, sending the pitiless sound echoing

through the empty galleries. He could hear the Archer''s

whispers and smell the fear that trickled through the pores of

his skin. Slowly, he stretched his arm up, up, following the

narrow winding stairway, past each darkened gallery, until his

hand rested against the locked Lamp gallery door. 'There are

none to help you!' he hissed, snapping the lock and bolts with

one firm push of his hand and letting the door swing inwards,

away from the darkened stairhead.

 

'I still have the Light,' shouted Tiethorm. In one last desperate

move to defend the gallery he reached for the balance wheel

and turned the wick to its full height. He filled the gallery with

brilliant white light that sent the gathering shadows fleeing

towards the darkened doorway.

 

'I am shadowless!' whispered Kruel. 'I do not fear your light.

I am shadowless and all-powerful. Come to me, Archer,

and be swallowed in my darkness. Your moment of defiance

 

is over. Come to me.'

 

'By all that is good in the sunlight I will defend this place

against your foul kind,' shouted Tiethorm, the bow drawn taut.

 

Two sets of rats' eyes gleamed on the threshold of the

gallery. There were more behind: the Archer could hear them

scuttling up the winding stairway.

 

'Shadow rats!' he hissed in terror, loosing the long-bladed

dagger at his belt. He had seen them on the first daylight of

their arrival in the fortress of Underfall and they  multiplied in

the blink of an eye, then in one night of terror they had bitten

all the guardians of Underfall, spreading t strange darkness

amongst them. The shadows had grown and nightmare chants

had filled the blackness. Gallery by gallery they had hunted

him, driving him always upward away from the doors and now

he was trapped, there was nowhere else to hide. Now, beside

the Lamp, he would make one last desperate stand.

 

The first two rats blinked in the glare of the lamp and

scuttled ahead. Tiethorm looked quickly from one rat to the

other, chose his target and loosed the arrow. 'By the sunlight!'

he cried as the first rat arched its back, shrieking as the arrow

pierced its flank, hurling it back through the doorway. Reaching

behind him he snatched another arrow from the quiver and

nocked it on to the bow. 'Where are you, Thunderstone?' he

cried in despair, loosing the arrow wildly at the hideous shapes

suddenly filling the doorway.

 

The shadow rats were everywhere, swarming across the

gallery floor, alive now with their black squealing bodies. They

attacked him, running up his legs, jumping at his arms, tearing

the bow from his fingers. Their sharp teeth cut into his skin;

they were on his chest, his neck. 'No! No!' he screamed,

toppling forwards as the darkness took him, etching Kruel's

black agony through his veins. Somewhere far off he could hear

Kruel's voice laughing, mocking him as his bow-hand arched

back, the blackened fingers twisting into hideous shapes. The

hand that had broken the locks pulled him roughly to the

stairhead and dragged him, bumping from step to step, down

into the courtyard.

 

'Now you are mine!' laughed Kruel, lifting Tiethorm's head

and staring deeply into his eyes, searching out the truth of this

Archer who had dared to stand against him. Frowning, he

blinked and looked again at the grey muddled fog filling

Tiethorm's mind. 'Useless fool,' he muttered, letting the Archer

fall forgotten on to the cobblestones as he turned his head

towards the inner courtyard and shouted Merion's name,

calling him out to kneel before the new Master of all Elundium.

 

'By Nevian's power I will never kneel before you, nightmare,

but I will stand against you,' answered a muffled but defiant

voice.

 

Kruel laughed, cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted

just once, a high-pitched shriek that burned the eardrums,

splintered wood and shattered stone as it tore through the

 

fortress of Underfall. Merion watched in terror as his stout

timbered door splintered into a thousand jagged pieces and

the stone archway surrounding it crumbled into dust. Stumbling

backwards away from the ruined door, he snatched

bulrush torches from their wall brackets and lit them with a

spark. Shadow rats swarmed over the rubble towards I their

piercing eyes shining in the torchlight.

 

'You shall not take me!' he cried, sweeping the torch down

in a burning arch, setting fire to the black brittle fur of the

closing circle of shadow rats.

 

Bitter smoke mixed with the acrid smell of burning flesh

billowed, the shadow rats screamed with rage, trampling

each other to retreat as the bright flames scorched their s

Merion shouted with victory and spread the burning circle

wider. Each step he took brought him closer to the court,

where Kruel waited silently, close-wrapped in black shade

Arbel cursed the healer and lowered his long spear to chin

at the circle of flames spreading through the brittle-black of

the shadow rats faster than a new spark in dry kindling

 

'Wait,' whispered Kruel, putting a stilling hand on Arbel's

arm. 'Let the healer come to me, then all those that serve

here at Underfall will see him kneel.'

 

Merion's step faltered, his headlong rush shuffling to a halt.

The figure that stood before him had grown, seeming now to fill

the courtyard. Long shadows curled out towards him. A soft

voice laughed and brought him forward. 'Who would challenge

me, the Lord of Night, the Master of Elundium?'

 

'Thanehand is my King,' cried Merion, sweeping burning

torches aloft, 'and by the light in my hands I

answer to none other.'           _

 

Kruel smiled. 'You shall have light, healer, bright light ~

will fill this courtyard and then in blazing glory you will kneel

before me.

 

'Never!' shouted Merion, lowering the flames towards Kruel.

 

Kruel stepped forwards and pursed his lips. He began to

blow a hot wind at the healer's hands setting the flames

twisting and dancing on the bulrush torches, fanning them into

white-hot sheets of fire and turning them against Merion.

 

'NO! NO!' screamed Merion, trying to drop the torches as the

flames swept over his hands. But it was too late, the heavy

fabric of his sleeves was alight, the hem of his cloak was a

blaze of greedy sparks; his beard, his eyebrows shrivelled. 'No!'

he tried to shout as the fire engulfed him. Screaming he

staggered forwards and fell, a blazing torch, at Kruel's feet,

begging the Lord of all Elundium to put out the fire.

 

Kruel stood, silently watching the guardians of Underfall,

waiting until each Warrior had seen his power, then he was

going to turn and leave the Healer who had dared to stand

against him to burn into nothing but brittle ash that would

scatter in the morning wind. But something made him hesitate,

something in Merion's tortured screams. He gathered a ball of

spittle on his tongue and spit on the blazing healer to put out

the fire. White smoke hissed and crackled, rising up to fog the

courtyard and hide the shadow rats swarming across Merion's

hands, biting through his blistered, blackened skin to bring him

into the darkness.

 

Kruel had turned away and did not see the Healer's

backbone twist as the darkness etched its way through his

body. He was deaf to the terrible screams behind him as he

strove to understand what had made him, the Master of

Nightmares, put out the flames. 'Pity?' he whispered, forming

the word with the tip of his tongue and searching deep in his

mind to find where it had come from. He reached up and

touched the hard ridge of skin on the top of his head. 'My

father knew nothing of pity, he scorned it as a weakness born

of men, he would have eaten the Healer and tossed the scraps

to his Nightbeasts.' Frowning, he looked through the swirls of

smoke to where Arbel stood with a sneer of delight on his

armoured face as he watched the Healer trying to get to his

feet.

 

'Martbel - the weakness must come through Martbel,' Kruel

whispered, seeing clearly in Arbel's heart how she

would have nursed the Healer and forgiven him for

entering the darkness. He searched Arbel's mind again and

saw how he had put all pity and compassion aside in his la

for the darkness.

 

Shrugging away the pity, afraid of it as a weakness, Kruel

turned his back on the Healer and cried to the warriors of

Underfall, 'Who is Master of all Elundium?'

 

The warriors of Underfall echoed Kruel's chant, moving

in a slow circle around the smouldering Healer. Louder and

louder grew their voices as the last shades of evening fad

into the darkness.

 

Hoofbeats echoed on the Causeway Field but none heard

them in the fortress of Underfall. Thunderstone, reaching

the end of a long road home, sensed something was wrong in

the fortress and lifted his battle-gloved hand and quietly

dismounted between the ancient trees. 'Be easy,' he whispered

to Rowantree who snorted and showed the whites of

his eyes.

 

Thunderstone put a stilling hand upon the bridle before

he motioned to the Warriors of Underfall to follow him out

of the shadow of the trees and on to the Causeway Road. For

a moment he paused and crouched down, listening to the

hideous chant that spilled through the open doors, he cast an

anxious look up to the feeble light shining out from the Lamp

gallery.

 

'Evil has settled here in our absence,' he whispered,

drawing the horsetail sword. 'Let every man be ready

Swordsmen to the centre, Archers on each flank, with the

Spearmen in close order. Leave the horses here amongst the

ancient trees until we have discovered who is within our

fortress.'

 

'Who?' began one of the Spearmen as he took his place

but Thunderstone hushed him.

 

'I know not, but I fear those voices chanting. It reminds

me of grim daylights when the Nightbeasts swarmed against

the walls of Underfall. Now keep quiet and follow me.'

 

 

'Who is the Master of all Elundium?' shouted Kruel as the

Warriors leapt and danced around him.

 

'None but the rightful King,' cried Thunderstone angrily

from between the great doors, his feet planted firmly on the

first line of cobblestone that edged the courtyard. The silver

strands of the horsetail sword shone bright in the earb

moonlight.

 

Kruel spun round with a snarl of hatred curling back his

lips. The dancing warriors froze, tHeir spears and swords

turned towards the doorway. 'Thunderstone!' he hissed,

spreading his arms to beckon the shadow rats. They were all

around him in a swarming black tide. 'The Keeper of my

fortress has returned to kneel at my feet!'

 

Thunderstone stared in horror at the figure before him,

for he seemed both man and beast, both beautiful and

hideous. 'Krulshards?' he half-whispered gripping the hilt of

his sword tightly with both hands.

 

Kruel laughed and swept the black malice in a shadowy

arc. 'I am more than my father, Krulshards. I am both

daylight and darkness, shadowless and all-powerful, for I am

Kruel, the new Master and Lord of all Elundium. Now,

kneel, Keeper of the Light, and offer your sword to me.'

 

'By Nevian and all that is good in the sunlight, I will not!'

cried Thunderstone, taking a step forward.

 

Kruel laughed and snapped his fingers. The guardians of

Underfall who had already been bitten into the darkness rose

and surged forwards, thrusting their bitter spears against

Thunderstone. The black tide of shadow rats swarmed across

the cobblestones towards Thunderstone's armoured boots.

 

'Kill the rats! Kill the rats! Escape and warn the King!'

shouted Tiethorm desperately trying to close his twisted

 

fingers around the long-bladed dagger he had earlier loosened

in his belt.

 

Thunderstone heard his captain's warning and briefly saw

him raise a cruelly twisted hand above the seething mass of

shadows before the one-eyed Nightbeast clubbed him down.

 

 

'The rats! The rats!' shouted Thunderstone, using the

of his sword against them and crushing a dozen beneath his

armoured boots as he retreated out on to the Causeway Road,

But it was too late. The cobblestones were lost beneath the

foul shadows, they were swarming up his legs, biting at his

battle-gloved hands, running up the hem of his cloak.

'Warn Thane!' he managed to shout as the tide of nightmare

shadow rats reached the high collar of his jerkin,

Hawing for his throat. They weighed heavy on his arms,

making him stagger towards the doors.

Arbel snarled with rage as he saw the Keeper of Worlds

End battling with the rats and pushed his way through the

bitter black warriors raising his Marcher sword to strike down

Thunderstone. '

By all that is good in the sunlight!' cried Thunderstone,

using all his strength to lift his arms and swing the horsetail

sword in a wide arc. The silver strands of Equion's tail flowed

out in the chill night air as the blade struck once against

Arbel's black armour. The sword shivered in his hands, the

horsetail wrapped itself, clinging around his wrists as the

blade shattered into a thousand splinters.   ]

 

'By all ...' he began, crashing to his knees. Rats' d; tore at

his cloak collar, sharp teeth sank into his neck, he falhng

into darkness, sinking beneath the black-anmou Wan ior's

shadow. Arbel sneered and opened his ar embracing the

last Lampmaster of Elundium spreading living cloak of

shadow rats about his shoulders.

 

Elionbel funned restlessly in her bed, her hands clenched tightly

together. 'No!' she screamed, starting awake and sitting bolt

upright. 'No! No!' she whispered in terror clutching her head in

her hands.

 

She dare not close her eyes again lest the nightmare she had

seen swallow her up. Rising quickly she flung her cloak around

her shoulders and hurried to the casement window that looked

down into the deep cold of Swanwater. '

 

 

bastard Kruel has entered Elundium,' she whispered, biting her

knuckles, knowing now that he had not perished in the

moment of Krulshards' death.

 

She had seen him in her dream standing in the darkened

courtyard of Underfall. There had been cruel laughter on his

pitiless face as he watched the horsetail sword shatter into a

thousand bright splinters. 'I must seek him out and destroy

him,' she muttered, her face drawn into grim lines of hatred and

fear as she dressed hurriedly.

 

Thane mumbled and funned restlessly in his sleep. Moving

noiselessly she knelt beside the bed. 'How I wish I could tell

you and be rid of this burden,' she whispered with tears in her

eyes as she kissed the first two fingers of his wedding-tied

hand and gently placed them on Thane's forehead. Rising she

felt for the black dagger Kerzolde had killed her mother with

and which she had kept, and closed her fingers around the

cold metal hilt.

 

Without a sound she descended the narrow winding

stairway and felt her way down through the sleeping city until

she stood before the door of Stumble's stable. 'Will you take

me?' she whispered, blinking back her tears. 'And carry me

through the darkest night to destroy the one boon of my

mother's torment? For I must kill the bastard Kruel before he

treads darkness across all Elundium.'

 

Stumble snorted and stood quietly while Elionbel put a

saddle upon his back and a silver-studded bit into his mouth,

then he carefully knelt with his neck proudly arched for her to

mount. Leaning forwards she gave Stumble the reins and

whispered in his ear, 'The bastard Kruel is in the fortress of

Underfall, I saw it in my dream. We must go there by the

shortest route and seek his death.'

 

Stumble snorted and crouched low before he sprang

forwards and cantered out into the starlit night beneath the

high-arched gate that carried his name, following the silver

road towards World's End.

 

'Wait! Wait!' shouted the guards running out on to the

beginning of Greenway, but they were gone, their hoof ' beats

fading into the darkness.

 

Willow started awake on the rough earth of the Rising and

fiercely shook Oakapple's shoulder, wakening her. 'It has

begun,, he cried. 'I saw it in a dream. Thunderstone, the Keeper

of Underfall, has fallen, his sword is shattered into ~ thousands of

pieces. There is not a moment to lose, we must finish this

fortress before the darkness spreads!'

 

'Enough,' Kruel whispered, gripping Arbel's smooth armoured

arm. 'We have all Elundium to swallow with the darkneSs. Give

me the Lampmaster of Underfall, let him kneel before me and call

me King.'

 

Arbel muttered black curses and pushed Thunderstone from

beneath the swarming cloak of shadow rats.

 

'Kneel before me, Lampmaster!' Kruel gloated, pulling up

ThunderStone by the roots of his flowing white hair. 'Call me

King and Master of all Elundium.

 

Thunderstone shuddered and cried out as he fought against

the terrible darkness flooding his body. Blinking his bloodshed

eyes, he looked up into Kruel's gloating triumphant face and

knew he had but moments before the darkness swallowed him

up. 'Master,' he cried, reaching up blacketched, rat-bitten

fingers to clasp Kruel's hand. ~

 

Kruel laughed, sure of his victory and gave his right hand to

Thunderstone. The last Lampmaster, with what strength he

had left, shouted Thanehand's name and savagely bit into

Kruel's fingers, shearing through the strong knuckles,

splintering the bones as he ground them between his teeth.

 

Kruel screamed and snatched back his bleeding hand then

lifted Thunderstone clear off the cobblestones and hurled him

against the furthest rough granite wall. 'Die! Die! You will die

for this!' he shouted, the rage in his voice splitting the walls of

the courtyard into crazy patterns and bringing down huge

blocks of grey granite crashing into the courtyards

Shaking with anger, Kruel strode across to where

Thunderstone lay broken against the wall and stood towering

over him. The blood was boiling through his veins, his muscles

were swelling, rippling beneath the skin. The hard ridge on the

top of his head had begun to burn, pulsing and throbbing

beneath his winter-white dead locks of his hair. Reaching up,

he touched the bony ridge with his hand and felt the skin begin

to split. 'Now you will see beneath my gentle skin,' he snarled

at the cowering warriors. 'Now you will see my real power as I

grow to overshadow this courtyard.'

 

Laughing hideously he peeled the skin away from the crown

of his head and crammed the glistening, blood-wet strips into

his mouth. Arbel and the Nightbeasts danced around him,

chanting and laughing as Kruel grew, but Pinchface watched in

horror, forcing the knuckles of his left hand into his mouth to

stifle his cries. The leather pouch of nightflower seed felt

heavy as if it had swollen beneath his cloak. Secretly, he

touched it and crept further into the darkness of the low

archway leading into the second courtyard lest Kruel should

see his fear.

 

Kruel stood staring down at Thunderstone, waiting for the

new skin to form and harden in the chill dawn wind. The raw

severed ends of the fingers on his right hand had grown new

fingertips but they still burned and throbbed, though the new

skin had been quick to cover the Lampmaster's teeth marks.

Snarling with hatred, he lifted Thunderstone up above his head

and carried him out on to the Causeway Road. He trod through

the heaps of rat-bitten warriors that Thunderstone led against

him when he had tried to storm the doors. 'Now you are a part

of my darkness,' he shouted to the shadowy Warriors,

stretching his arms upwards far above his head, ready to hurl

Thunderstone down on to the Causeway Road, using his death

to strike terror into any who might turn against him.

 

'Hang him, Master,' shouted a voice. 'Let him be a lesson to

all who come to the fortress of Underfall!'

Kruel hesitated and turned his head to see Silverpurse

hurrying down through the great doors, bowing and kneeling

his way on to the Causeway Road. 'Hang him from those

ancient trees, great Lord and Master of all Elundium. That

would be just the place for the last Lampmaster to dance in

the morning winds!'

 

Kruel smiled, drawing his lips back across his teeth. 'Yes,

he would hang as a lesson to all who dared cross the true

power, the real Master of all Elundium.'

 

Laughing, Kruel dropped Thunderstone and turned back

towards the fortress calling his warriors. 'Come out on to the

Causeway Road and bring me strong rope or binding cord

and watch the last Lampmaster dance to the rising sun!'

 

Arbel ran to Kruel's side and pointed down amongst the

trees. 'There are horses riding in the shadows of the trees. I

can hear the jingle of their harness and smell them on the

morning wind.'

 

Kruel knelt, whistling softly, and drew the black warriors

and the swarms of shadow rats all about him until they

covered the beginnings of the Causeway Road in deepest

shadows. 'Take the horses,' he whispered. 'Kill them all and

let none escape. If any break away from the trees follow them,

hunt them without rest until they fall from weariness, then

kill them.'

 

Arbel laughed softly and unsheathed a long black dagger.

He led the warriors silently down towards the trees.

 

Thunderstone half-opened his eyes and gasped with pain.The

Nightmare's darkness had flooded through his veins

turning and twisting his neck until now he could only look

over his right shoulder. 'Run! Scatter!' he tried to shout to

the nighthorses but Kerzolde's claws were clamped firmly

over his mouth before the first shout was out.

 

Frightened whinnies and neighs of terror filled the darkness.

Hoofbeats scattered in every direction across the Causeway

Field. Cries of rage were everywhere, daggers rose and

fell, spearblades were thrust at galloping flanks. 'How many

escaped?' shouted Kruel, fitting the binding cord around

Thunderstone's twisted neck and dragging him into the

shadow of the ancient trees.

 

'Only two,' answered Arbel, running back breathlessly and

licking at his blood-sticky blade. 'But the shadow rats and

our fastest warriors are close on their heels.'

 

'You will never catch them!' whispered Thunderstone,

desperately shaking Kerzolde's claw away from his mouth.

'For they are fleet of foot and were gathered on the dark side

of morning. They will escape into the wild places. They will

warn the King!'

 

Kruel laughed and threw the binding cord over the highest

branch then began to hoist Thunderstone above his head.

'Dance for me, Lampmaster, and watch for your precious

horses until the crows have plucked out your eyes!'

 

Arbel joined in the laughter and spun Thunderstone by his

boots, shouting up into the branches overhead. 'Look in every

direction. Look in all the wild places!'

 

Thunderstone jerked and kicked, his arms thrashing wildly

in the grey morning light. The silver strands of horsetail from

his broken sword clung tightly to his wrist catching the light

from the new sunrise. Above his head the branches moved

and the leaves rustled together in secret whisperings. Kruel

had gone, leading the warriors of Underfall and the swarms

of his black shadow rats to conquer Elundium. Underfall had

fallen and stood wrapped in silent shadows.

 

 

Wise Counsel ir' Candlebane Hall

 

'Gone!' shouted Thane, crashing his fist heavily on the carved

armrest of the high throne in Candlebane Hall. 'Where has

she gone? Tell me that,' he asked in a quieter voice, looking

down at the anxious faces crowded on the first step of the

throne.

 

'My Lord,' Breakmaster began, pushing his way through

the crowd and kneeling on the second step, his head bowed

respectfully. 'Perhaps the Queen has ridden to Woodsedge,

or the Tower at Stumble Hill. Perhaps she has ridden out to

visit Eventine, the Lady of Clatterford.'

 

Thane muttered and snapped his fingers, bringing the

horseman to an abrupt halt. 'Cantering out in the dead of

night? Is that, Breakmaster, the way to start a visit? Where

are the guards that sit by the Stumble Gate? Bring them to

me!'

 

'Lord have mercy,' cried both the guards throwing themselves

at Thane's feet. 'The Queen galloped out so fast none

could stop her.'

 

Thane leaned forwards and pulled both guards up on to

their knees. 'You must have heard her riding down through

the city.'

 

'Lord, she burst upon us with a thunder of hooves and

fountains of bright sparks scattering across the cobbles. We

ran out on to the Greenway and followed as fast as we could:

but Stumble was galloping as if the Nightmare was upon him

and we lost them in the darkness.'

Thane turned away and stared out blindly through the

doors of Candlebane Hall, his knuckles whitening as he

gripped the armrest of the throne. 'Where has Elionbel gone?'

he whispered, half-lifting his hands towards his empty shoulder,

wishing Mulcade was perching there ready to rise on

silent wings and search the Greenway.

 

Turning back, he beckoned Breakmaster to come close to

him as he rose to his feet. 'Saddle me the swiftest horse that

stands in the breaking yards, I fear for Elionbel's life and will

follow her before the noonday striker touches the bell.'

 

'Lord, you would risk the safety of all Elundium if you ride

out alone beyond the walls of the Granite City without

Esteron to keep you from danger or the sharp-eyed owls to

watch the road.'

 

Thane turned on the horseman, his eyes blazing with anger

and would have shouted, cursing him for daring to cross the

King but he hesitated, remembering how Nevian had counselled

him not to spread fear among the people. He saw past

Breakmaster to the throng of anxious faces crowding the

throne, waiting on his every word. 'Clear Candlebane Hall!'

he ordered. 'Send each man about his duties so that we might

walk awhile, Breakmaster, and talk on the Lady Elionbel's

nightriding, for I am sure it is as you suggested and she

merely canters out to visit her father, Tombel, at Woodsedge.'

 

A sigh of relief seemed to escape from the crowd and they

turned to leave. Breakmaster had cleared the polished marble

hall, slamming the tall doors securely, when he returned to

the throne.

 

Thane had stripped off his royal cloak of blue velvet and

soft kid slippers. Silver chains and gold seals lay scattered on

the first two steps of the throne. 'Where are my riding

clothes?' he asked in haste while he unbuckled his silk and

silver woven jacket. 'I must hurry or Stumble's hoofprints will

have faded as the sun thaws the morning frost.'

 

'Lord, it would be madness for you to ride alone!' cried

Breakmaster, gathering up Thane's discarded clothes.

 

'Rumours of a new darkness are on every traveller's lips. Let

me go in your place and ride after Elionbel.'

 

Thane laughed grimly and shook his head. 'As yet they are

only rumours, none have brought me proof of the darkness

Do not forget that once I rode out in deepest winter with

nothing but the Chancellor's shouts to comfort me on a bleak

and dangerous road.'

 

'But, Lord, now you are the King and must remain secure

within the city,' ventured Breakmaster without much hope,

seeing Thane was clearly set on his purpose.

'And as your King I command you to saddle me the

swiftest horse, Breakmaster. Enough time has trickled

through the hourglass. I know there is more to Elion's ride

than to visit her father. Now go and saddle me that horse!'

 

'Lord it will be done!' answered Breakmaster, knowing he

dare not allow the King to ride alone. He retreated from the

high throne, his hand shaking as he opened the doors, and

he ran without stopping for breath across the bridge over

Swanwater and down through the city.

 

'Be warned,' he gasped as he cautioned Grey Goose and

caught his breath as he threw a saddle over Beacon Light's

back. 'The King will have a black rage and call for my life, I

know it, but I must prevent him leaving the safety of this city.

Nevian forewarned us to guard the King and Queen and

already we have failed, but I will follow Elionbel. You have

my word and solemn pledge that I will bring her safely back

into the city.'

 

Grey Goose moved close to Beacon Light's head and took

the loose reins in his hand. 'How can I stop the King from

following you? He will tread me down if I stand in his path

and take the horse nearest the gate.'

 

Breakmaster laughed uneasily and looked along the neat

line of stalls then cast a critical eye over the Errant horses

who stood ready for the road. It was true that none of them

could match Beacon Light for strength or pace but the truth

in Grey Goose's words shouted clear across the cobbles.

 

                                                      Footsteps sounded in the entrance to the stables. Breakmaster

and Grey Goose turned and made to kneel. 'Lord,' they

whispered together.

 

Thane paused, his hands on his hips and looked steadily

into Breakmaster's eyes. 'I have heard enough of your secret

whispers to see you will risk my shouts of treason if it will

keep me within the safety of the city.'

 

'Lord, I fear for you out there,' answered Breakmaster. 'If

anything should happen to you Elundium would be without a

King.'

 

Thane frowned and caught a glimpse of the wisdom in

Breakmaster's words, knowing that as he was a shepherd to

his people so he should let others ride out and search for

Elionbel. 'Do you fear these rumours of the world beyond

our gates, Breakmaster? Is that what prompts you to take my

place?' he asked in a troubled voice. 'The Nightmare is dead,

Elundium is free of his shadows. What are you afraid of?'

 

Breakmaster hesitated. 'Lord, Nevian told us a little of the

shadows he fears and the darkness in the Lady Elionbel's

heart and he pledged us to watch over her. He feared

Elundium in all its peaceful beauty holds its breath against

some terrible tragedy. He counselled us on the eve before

you broke the battle crescents to be watchful and ready.'

 

Thane smiled, seeing how wide a net the Master of Magic

had spread to keep him safe, and he handed the reins back to

Breakmaster then slowly stepped away from Beacon Light. 'I

would be a foolish King to close my ears or cast aside wise

counsel, nor will I waste such loyalty. Go, Breakmaster, ride

 

with the wind and find the Lady Elionbel. Bring her safely

back.'

 

'Lord, I am pledged to it,' cried Breakmaster, springing up

into the saddle and cantering Beacon Light towards the high

arch of the Stumble Gate. Grey Goose hesitated. 'Lord, if

new shadows threaten the daylight my Archers will defend

the City.'

 

Thane laughed, saying, 'As yet, my brave Archer, you

would only loose arrows at transparent rumours!'

 

A Chance Meeting in the Dark

 

Breakmaster eased the reins and brought Beacon Light to a

walk before he bent to search the shadows beneath the eaves

of the black forest for signs of Stumble's hoofprints. They

had been easy to follow in the early winter frost that had

spread across the Greenway but now, beneath the silent

brooding trees, they had melted away to nothing.

 

'Which way did you go?' he muttered, turning first left and

then right, riding in tight undecided circles beyond the dark

sweep of the trees. He caught sight of a dirty streak of smoke

rising in the cold morning air. 'Woodsedge!' he cried, urging

Beacon Light forwards. 'Perhaps she did ride to her father's

Wayhouse,' he whispered hopefully as he cantered towards

the open doorway.

 

Tombel laughed and waved his hand; Thoron ran out

shouting greetings and cast admiring eyes over Beacon Light

before taking the reins from Breakmaster as he quickly

dismounted.

 

'What news of the Granite City and of my beautiful

daughter?' called Tombel, turning and clapping his hands for

a server to bring meat and drink for the weary horseman.

 

'Lord, and dearest friend,' Breakmaster began, trying to

disguise his fears but the tone of his voice brought Tombel

back across the threshold, his face paling. 'Is the Lady

Elionbel with you?' he asked, stamping his feet against the

cold. 'Only she rode out from the city two nights ago.'

 

'There were hoofbeats on the Greenway just before the

grey hours gave way to the daylight,' interrupted Thoron,

returning from the stables.

 

Breakmaster turned and looked out at the low winter sun.

'If it was the Lady Elionbel she is a good half a daylight

ahead of me.'

 

'Where is she?' cried Tombel, not knowing which way to

turn. 'Why did she leave the Granite City in the dead of

night, and why did she pass my door without . . .?' Tombel

sat down heavily, his head in his hands, feeling a great dread

weighing down upon him. Thoron moved quietly past his

friend to the deep recess by the fireside and picked up his

cloak then threw it across his shoulders. He bent and pulled

on his boots as Breakmaster answered.

 

'We know not, but a dark shadow seemed to trouble

Elionbel. Nevian forewarned us to watch over her but she

slipped Through the Stumble Gate galloping so fast none

could catch her.'

 

'I will search for her,' Thoron said quietly, his arm around

Tombel's shoulder. 'No man in all Elundium knows the

secret ways better than I do.'

 

'No! No!' Tombel cried, shaking off Thoron's arm and

rising to his feet. 'I cannot sit here alone, fretting by the

fireside. With all my family taken from me Elionbel was all I

had left. Which way did the hoofbeats go? Why did you not

wake me?'

 

Thoron lifted his arms in dismay. 'None would pass here

in the night save the Warhorses moving to better grazing. I

thought little of it and turned over in my sleep.'

 

Tombel muttered something about losing first Arbel and

then Rubel before the foul Nightmare took Martbel. 'I will

find her, mark my Marching blades!' he shouted angrily as

he trampled on his boots and reached up for his two broad

Marching swords hanging above the fireplace before running

out on to the Greenway.

 

'Why did Thane not go after her?' he asked, halting and

turning sharply towards Breakmaster. 'Is the black shadow

that haunts Elionbel of his doing? did he drive her from the

city?'

 

'Lord, Lord,' cried Breakmaster in dismay, knowing nothing

of the bad blood that had once flowed between Thane

and Tombel. 'It was all I could do to stop the King from

riding out after her. She cried out in her sleep, waking him

for a moment, but when he rose with the grey hours she had

gone, taking Stumble with her. Riders have scoured the

countryside around the Granite City but she is nowhere to be

found. I had half-hoped she had ridden out to be with you at

Woodsedge.'

 

Tombel frowned and mumbled an apology for his quick

temper then turned back towards the Greenways' edge.

Thoron ran to the stable yard and, pausing to choose one of

the fastest relay horses for himself, he hastily resaddled

Beacon Light then led them both, stirrups swinging, out on

 

to the Greenway.

 

'We will keep pace,' he said, giving Breakmaster the reins

of his horse, 'and we shall not rest or ease our stride until we

find Elionbel.'

 

'But you cannot run, Tombel, nor match the horses'

stride,' cried Breakmaster pirouetting the horse on the crown

of the road, 'for we will not rest until we reach the Tower on

Stumble Hill.'

 

Tombel laughed harshly as he tightened his belt. 'Nor do

I, horseman, for I am Marcher-born and need drives me now

as it has never done before.'

 

'We shall travel together,' called Thoron, 'and share one

shadow just as we did long ago in battle against the

Nightbeasts.

 

'Need drives us forward!' cried Tombel as he took to the

crown of the road flanked by the two horses. Then he fell

silent and bent his back to run a little harder, hoping beyond

hope that they could overtake Elionbel before she reached

the wild lands.

 

# # #

 

 

Elionbel had forced herself to stay awake, losing count of the

daylights, afraid that if she shut her eyes she would see the

nightmare vision of Kruel that had filled her dreams and

driven her out of the Granite City. She had driven Stumble

relentlessly on past her father's house, past Gildersleeves, the

fencing Master's house, until she was numb with exhaustion

and lost on the wild road through the black forest. She let

the reins slip through her fingers and slumped in the saddle,

her eyelids closing as sleep finally took her. Stumble felt her

slip and eased the pace to a walk, stretching his sweatstreaked

neck against exhaustion. Snorting quietly he took

mouthfuls of short grass from the Greenways' edge as he

searched for a place for them to rest. The shadows were

growing long and he knew night would soon fall.

 

Snap! Crack! Something moved ahead. Stumble whinnied

in alarm, his ears flat back. Elionbel started awake and cried

out in terror, the hood of her cloak falling forwards, just as a

ragged warrior slipped out of the undergrowth, a hand's span

from Stumble's head, and grabbed the reins. The warrior

laughed, his dirty face split into a gloating leer as he pulled

the reins tight, forcing Stumble's head down towards the

ground. 'Where can you run to, Lady?' he mocked, reaching

out to touch her fine embroidered gown and her rich velvet

cloak.

 

Elionbel shuddered as the hand stretched towards her and

she would have screamed as she reached for her dagger, yet

there was something in the warrior's voice and the look of his

eye. Something was Here that she recognised and stopped

her hand, something from a time when Woodsedge rang to a

sound of laughter, to easier times before the Nightmare.

 

'Rubel?' she cried, recoiling and drawing as far back as the

high cantle of the saddle would allow.

 

The warrior hesitated, his eyes narrowing, and he let the

reins slip through his fingers. Nobody had called him that

name for an age of daylights, not since he had cursed

Thanehand and angered his father, Tombel, so much with

his hatred that he had been forced out of the battle crescent

and had had to live as a beggar travelling in secret and taking

what he could.

 

Elionbel reached up and cast back the hood of her cloak to

stare Rubel full in the face.

 

'Elionbel?' he whispered, blushing with shame beneath the

dirt and rubbing his eyes as he stared at his sister. 'But the

Nightmare took you. How can it be you?'

 

Elionbel laughed with joy and jumped to the ground. 'Rubel,

oh Rubel,' she repeated over and over again, taking his rough

calloused-hands into hers and taking them to her lips. 'Father

said you cursed Thane and vanished into the grasslands, but I

always hoped, secretly hoped, that you would come back.'

 

Rubel frowned and drew away from her. 'I did curse

Thanehand. I cursed him with every black word I could

remember for bringing the Nightmare to Woodsedge, for losing

you and Mother, and for turning Arbel against me. But you,

you are safe! How did you escape?'

 

Elionbel shivered as she remembered those last moments in

the high chamber of the City of Night with the Nightmare's life

thread drawing tighter around her neck and choking the breath

out of her. 'Without Thane I would be dead,' she whispered,

trying to shut the terrible memories from her~ mind as she

looked round at the deepening shadows.

 

'Did he rescue you?' Rubel asked.

 

'Yes. I thought all Elundium knew,' she answered simply.

'How is it that you, my brother, should have hidden for so

long? Why did you not come to our wedding in the Granite

City when he made me the Queen of all Elundium?'

 

Rubel laughed, his eyes round with surprise and whistled

softly, looking up at the darkening sky in disbelief. 'My sister is

now queen of all Elundium! So that is what the messengers

were shouting about as they galloped along the Greenways.

Father banished me and I keep well away -from Marchers and

warriors of all kinds. But you look half-starved. I will light a

fire and roast you a royal supper and you will tell me how you

became a Queen.'

 

'Supper? What supper? All you have is a tiny bundle over

your shoulder,' said Elionbel, following Rubel into a small

clearing beside the Greenway.

 

Rubel laughed and tossed her a long string of fat,

greycoated rats, each one neetly killed and tied to the rope by

its tail. 'Thus, for my curses, am I fallen,' he answered,

gathering an armful of kindling wood from beneath the trees.

'From Marcher's son to ratcatcher, that is how I live, keeping

away from the villages, travelling in secret, living from hand to

mouth.' Rubel paused and looked at Elionbel. 'Have you a

spark?'

 

Elionbel stared in horror at the rats and fumbled, searching

in her pockets. 'Keep it,' she whispered, pressing the spark

into his hands and retreating away from him.

 

Rubel's face darkened as he skewered the rats and balanced

 

them above the flames. 'Eat or go hungry but this is all I have.

Thane took everything from me and filled me with hate when

he came between us and sent Arbel back into Woodsedge to

slay me. Why else would my own brother raise a blade against

me?'

 

'No! No!' gasped Elion. 'Thane would never have done that.

He loves us all, without him . . .'

 

Rubel shook his head fiercely and kicked the fire into a

brighter blaze. 'Enough of yesterlights,' he snapped. 'I will settle

that argument when I meet Thanehand blade with blade. Now

tell me all that brought you out to ride alone upon the

Greenway. Leave nothing out even if it takes all night, for I

have had little company on the road save the ancient trees that

line the Greenways' edge.'

 

'So Thane is a King,' sneered Rubel as the tale was told,

stripping the fire-blackened skin from the choicest rat and

passing it to Elion on a charred stick. 'Then I will have to seek

an audience to settle our quarrel. But you say nothing of

Mother or how doings are at Woodsedge.'

 

Elion shivered, turning her head away from the rat and

drew her cloak tightly about her shoulders as she reached

beneath her skirts for Kerzolde's black-bladed dagger which she

passed to her brother. 'I seek the death of the Nightbeast

that once owned this blade for with it he cruelly took our

mother's life.'

 

Tears froze in Rubel's eyes as he gripped the hilt of the

dagger. Twice he opened his mouth to ask but dry sobs

choked his throat.

 

'In the high chamber,' Elion whispered, putting her hand

over Rubel's, 'moments before Thane drove his sword

through Krulshards' foul heart, the one-eyed, one-clawed

 

Nightbeast named Kerzolde stabbed Mother to death.'    :

 

Rubel started forwards and cried out. 'I know that monster!

 

Arbel and I saw it on the lawns of Gildersleeves, it chased us ~]

and Arbel fell, caught in a black web of nightmesh, but how

do you know this nightbeast lives? Everywhere through the

grasslands and wild forests I have come upon their rotting

carcasses.

 

Rubel stopped abruptly and looked down, blinking away

his tears, his knuckles white with grief. 'What of Father?' he

asked in a tight whisper without looking up.

 

'He grieves his loss and sits each daylight by the open

doorway.'

 

'Does he talk of me or Arbel? Is his heart still darkened

against me?'

 

Elionbel smiled softly and touched Rubel's chin making

him look up. 'He is a proud man and warrior-born, but he

loves you, Rubel, even though you cursed Thane and he says that

if you are dead then somewhere in Elundium there is a

wall of nightbeast dead to mark the spot where you fell. Yet

each daylight he watches by the Greenway Road and gathers

his hope around him that you will return.'

 

Rubel stood up throwing the half-eaten supper angrily

aside. 'I have wronged and cursed. I have shamed and hurt

the very ones I love. Why, why did I do it?'

 

'We all do things in ...' Elion began but Rubel cut her

short, quickly smothering the fire with cold ashes and pulling

her and Stumble in amongst the ancient trees that seemed to

crowd around their little clearing.

 

'Hush!' he whispered between clenched teeth. 'A riderless

horse is running on the Greenway, its battle harness jingling

and something follows less than a league behind. Listen,

listen!'

 

Elionbel caught her breath, her eyes widening in fear as

the sound of fast-running hoofbeats passed the clearing.

Crawling to the clearing's edge they watched and waited,

catching their breath in horror as warriors filled the road.

They were chanting and screaming and all around their feet

the Greenway seethed and swarmed with black shadows.

 

Rubel pressed his finger on her lips and quickly pushed

Elion out of sight. Once, twice his dagger rose and fell, then

he was safely back amongst the trees in the clearing with two

huge black rats dangling by their tails. Frowning he turned

them gingerly, twisting them in his fingers, touching their

brittle spines with the blade of his dagger.

 

'There is nothing in all Elundium ...' he whispered,

turning his head fearfuly and listening to the fading chants

and screams of the shadowy warriors. 'Come, we must hurry

for the safety of Stumble Hill, there are dark shadows and

new terrors loose in Elundium and I fear for us out in the

open.'

 

Beacon Light felt the hoofbeats through the ground and

heard the horses' neighs of terror. Snorting, she arched her

neck and crouched, ready to strike. Breakmaster drew his

sword and called across to Thoron. 'A rider runs towards us.

 

Listen, a horse's bit-rings are jingling in panic.'

 

'Clear the Greenway!' ordered Thoron in a whisper. 'Let

the rider pass between us and then we will close the road.'

 

The hoofbeats drew closer, behind them, carried on the

night wind, screams and chants of pursuit sounded through

the darkness. 'Be ready!' Thoron whispered, whetting the

edge of his long galloping blade. He had heard night sounds

like these before and they sent cold fingers creeping along his

spine.

 

The horse burst upon them, running fast on the crown of

the road, his sides lathered white with sweat, his head

hanging low with exhaustion, his eyes wide with terror. The

riders let him pass silently between them then closed the road

against the warriors who loomed out of the darkness. They

were black-veined with shadows and ran with spearblades

ready to strike.

 

'Now!' shouted Thoron, leaping out on to the Greenway

with his long blade flashing in the starlight as he scythed his

way Through the shadows.

 

'Now!' answered Tombel, striding out beside the horses,

both Marching swords swinging in glittering arcs. Together

they cleared the crown of the road, and felled the shadowy

warriors side by side. Breakmaster gave a mighty shout and

galloped up on to the Greenway, his sword-arm rising and

falling with each stride Beacon Light took.

 

'They are no match for us!' laughed Thoron, plunging his

long galloping blade through the nearest towering shadow

 

warrior.

 

Tombel began to laugh as he warmed to the batle but

Thoron backed towards him shouting in panic. "ware the

shadows! Look, they are alive with black rats.'

 

'There are swarms of them!' Tombel shouted in terror

 

the tide of darkness washed all around them. The shadow rats

shrieked and screamed, tHeir black spines rattling as they

attacked and ran over Tombel's armoured boots. They jumped

and clawed at Thoron's horse and climbed in blac nightmare

waves towards the saddle. They caught and held on to the

hems of the cloaks.

 

'Use the flat of your sword,' Breakmaster cried as Beacon

Light reared up, neighing in terror and Thrashing at the blac

bodies jumping at her throat.

'We are lost!' shouted Tombel in despair, staggering

forwards beneath the swarms of rats climbing up his tunic

towards his throat. Thoron reeled backwards under the weight

of the shadow rats and tried with one last desperate effort to

spur his horse forwards, striking at the rats clinging to his

jerkin. 'By all Nevian's power!' he cried out as he fell.

Breakmaster clung on tightly to the saddle as Beacon Light

began to topple sideways, his sword arm was raised as he

snatched a last glimpse of the stars above.

 

'Hope is with us!' he cried. 'Look at the ancient trees!'

 

Thoron twisted his head and stared up into the night sky

where he saw movement in the treetops. The branches were

 

swaying backwards and forwards, the Thick leathery leaves

were rustling without a breath of wind touching them. Faster

and faster the branches swayed, the trunks groaned and

creaked, bending low over the Greenway. The tide of darkness

seemed to hesitate and the rats began to scatter beneath the

flailing branches, shrieking with rage as they were crushed or

whipped high into the night sky.

 

Tombel trembled with fear as the branches closed about him

but not one silver hair on his head did they harm as long twigcrooked

fingers plucked off all the nightmare's shadow rats

from his arms, legs, hands and face to crush them as easily as

stalks of new-harvested straw.

 

Both horses whinnied and snorted, their ears pricked

forward as the branches checked their fall and set them down

gently on the Greenway. Breakmaster looked nervously about

him and slowly dismounted, shuddering as his feet touched

the bodies of the shadow rats.

 

'Of all the wonders in Elundium!' Thoron whispered, looking

up at the still silent trees.

 

'What magic did that?' asked Tombel, staring up at the

branches.

 

'One moment we are defeated, overrun by those rats and the

next . . .'

 

Breakmaster laughed quietly and resheathed his sword.

'Thane said the trees might be a blessing when they first

appeared in Elundium. He is a great King who sees much

more than mere men.'

 

Thoron shook his head. 'No, Breakmaster, he merely

wanted no harm to come to something he did not understand.

That is the real measure of our King.'

 

'Well, I for one am glad he forbade anyone to harm the

trees,' contemplated Tombel, 'and I think we should thank

them.'

 

Thoron smiled and knelt upon the Greenway turf beside

Breakmaster and Tombel and together they offered up the

hilts of their swords. 'No man shall raise a blade against you

 

while we live!' shouted Thoron.

 

As if in answer the leaves above their heads rustled and a

whisper ran far along the Greenway. Soft hoofbeats sounded

on the road behind them. Thoron turned and saw the horse

that had been running before the shadow Warriors, trotting

towards them.

 

'I know that horse!' Breakmaster cried, catching the loose

reins and putting calming hands on the horse's shoulder

whispering to it as he stroked its velvet-soft muzzle. 'It is

Rowantree, the stallion Thunderstone rode on his return to

Underfall.'

 

Thoron looked from the frightened horse down to the

dead warriors that lay scattered amongst the heaps of black

shadow rats. 'And I know that warrior, even though his face

is etched with dark shadows,' he muttered, crossing to the

Greenway and turning over the shadowy pursuers with the

toe of his armoured boot. 'He was once a Gatekeeper of

Underfall.'

 

'But what was he doing chasing Thunderstone's horse and

running with these foul vermin?' asked Tombel, spearing a

shadow rat with the point of his sword and holding it up for

closer inspection.

 

'Nothing like that has ever been seen in all Elundium, E

wager a herd of wild horses against it. Not even in the foule

sewers of the meanest streets in the Granite City, never!'

cried Breakmaster, shuddering and drawing away from the

rat.

 

Thoron took Rowantree's broken reins and calmed him.

Turning to the others he pointed along the darkened Greenway. '

I do not know what changes old friends into shadowy

warriors but there are dark daylights ahead of us, I can feel it

in my bones. There are changing times where none will know

who is his friend or whom he can trust. Come, we must hurry

to Stumble Hill and seek a safer bed than the open road.'

 

'Rowantree galloped from that direction, perhaps Stumble

Hill has fallen!' said Tombel darkly, shouldering his two

Marching swords.

 

Thoron pirouetted his horse drawing Rowantree close to

his flank and looked down for a moment at the dead shadowetched

warriors. 'No, there is not an Archer among them,' he

answered quietly. 'They were just a handful of the guardians

of Underfall.'

 

'We must hurry,' Tombel cried fearfully. 'Elionbel is

somewhere ahead of us!'

 

 

The Tower Falls

 

Thunderstone hung, dangling by his neck from the branches

of the ancient trees that edged the Causeway Field, twisting

and turning in the dismal winds blowing about the shee

walls of Underfall. Kruel had sneered up at Thunderstone,

mocking the last Lampmaster, laughing at his weakness as he

pushed his dangling boots aside impatiently. This first taste

of victory had whetted his appetite and now he wanted to

swallow all Elundium with his darkness.

 

Arbel urged him forwards. Kerzolde whispered of the road

through Meremire Forest that led to the Tower on Stumble

Hill where the Archer with the Bow of Orm forged his neil

arrowheads. Kruel smiled. Now was the moment. The

shadow rats had proved their power, growing stronger,

multiplying and biting everything into their darkness, swarming

their webs of shadows far beyond the eaves of Mantern's

Forest.

 

Silently they had passed through Meremire Forest, ewe

lowing everything into their shadowlight. Kruel had kne

watching the Warhorses and the Border Runners grazing

the grasslands and whispered his shadow rats in among

them, telling them not to kill, hoping that some of the dogs

and horses would love his darkness enough to serve him, but

they had fought savagely, rearing and plunging, growling and

snarling, falling, hopelessly crippled by the shadows. Nt

they waited, crouching in the shadows of Stumble Hill.

 

Kruel licked his lips, tasting the drying Warhorse blood

he looked back at the spreading shadows. 'Just before night

falls,' he whispered to Arbel, pointing a bloody finger at the

single tower crowning the summit of the hill. 'Then we will

let the shadow rats pour through the closing doors and strike

terror into the Archers in the half light.'

 

Arbel laughed and gnawed at a still-warm hoof. 'There is

nothing that can stop us now, brother. I knew the Warhorses

and the Border Runners would turn and fight but once bitten

by the shadow rats they were crippled and fell at the slightest

push.'

 

'Easy meat,' growled Kerzolde, tearing off long strips of

Warhorse flesh from the carcass he had dragged through the

grasslands and hanging the pieces from his belt.

 

'Few escaped us,' laughed Kerhunge, rubbing a full belly.

 

Kruel frowned and glared the Nightbeasts into silence. 'It

would have been better if some of them had served the

darkness, then we would have had shadowy gallopers to set

against Thanehand. It would have been much better if none

had survived to tell of our conquest. We shadow the light in

secret, spreading our darkness further across Elundium with

each daylight and with each warrior bitten our army grows.

Soon we will be ready to ring the Granite City with my

father's malice, then everything Thanehand sees will be in

shadowlight.'

 

'Rest easy,' Arbel answered. 'Those crippled dogs and

horses won't travel far walking on tHeir fetlocks.'

 

'Or their knees,' gloated Kerzolde. 'I could have easily

killed a dozen more!'

 

'Quiet! Lay still!' snapped Kruel, watching two Archers

standing on a platform at the top of the high Tower.

 

'Night has gathered too early,' Eventine muttered, arching

her hands against her forehead and staring out at the waves

of darkness that seemed to be flowing towards the tower

through the grasslands.

 

'Night cannot gather before the sun slips below World's

End. That is the way of things,'answered Kyot, sweeping the

Glass of Orm slowly across the trees below.

 

'Listen!' hissed Eventine, putting her bow hand on his

arm.

 

'What? What is it?' Kyot asked in a hushed whisper, his

hand upon the soft grey goose feathers of the first arrow in

his quiver.

 

'No! Listen and tell me what you hear,' she whispered

back, her head tilted to one side.

 

Kyot stood perfectly still, his fingertips closed around the

feathered flight of the arrow. He rose on tiptoe, turning his

head from left to right. Frowning, he turned his head again

only this time more slowly. 'Nothing! I hear nothing, there is

only silence as far as the horizon's edge.'

 

'That is what is wrong - the early darkness andt He silence,'

Eventine whispered, the skin prickling at the nape of her

neck. 'There is too much silence. Where is the birdsong and

the evening sounds that herald the darkness?'

 

Kyot looked out at the waves of darkness sweeping toward

them through the grasslands, moving faster now than the

winter wind. 'Yes, something is badly wrong,' he shouted,

nocking an arrow on to his bow. 'Those waves of darkness

that wash about us, they are almost at our very doors.' ~

 

'Ring tHe warning bell. Bolt the doors,' he cried to Eventine,

who leapt forwards at his shout, slashing the bell rope with

one sweep of her dagger and rushing as fast as she could to

the stairhead.

 

Kyot was a pace behind her, his face white with terror,~the

glass of Orm had slipped from his hand and bounced its way

past them both, shattering as it fell down the winding

stairway.

 

'The darkness is full of rats,' he stuttered, 'thousands and

thousands of rats!' -

 

Below them the courtyard was filled with panic and

black shadows were everywhere. Archers screamed and

shouted, arrows whined and shrieked high into the air.

 

Eventine knelt on the first step of the tower and reached for

an arrow. 'No time,' cried Kyot, pulling her to her feet and

shouting above the Archers' screams for Sprint and Tanglecrown

to come to them.

 

'Use your dagger. Stamp on the foul creatures with your

boots and make for the open doors, we must shut them.'

 

'I cannot"' Eventine shouted and retreated, shuddering, as

the first wave of shadows reached the foot of the tower.

 

Tanglecrown heard Kyot's cry of panic and roared out in

answer, and with his lowered crown of glittering antlers he

cleared a path from the stable yard through the swarming rats

and charged for the tower. Sprint followed, keeping close to

his shoulder, rearing and plunging his way through the

darkness.

 

'Defend the doors!' shouted Kyot, loosing his arrow at a

dark shape that filled the entrance. He vaulted into the saddle

as he pulled Eventine on to Tanglecrown's back before Sprint

reared beneath him with a mass of shadow rats clinging to

his fetlocks.

 

Kyot turned towards the entrance, the figure between the

doors laughed and stretched out its hand to take the arrow

mid-flight, melting the steel blade between its fingertips in a

shower of sparks.

 

Kyot's blood froze, his hand hovered over the quiver, his

fingers lightly touching the soft grey goose-feather flights.

 

'Look, in the doorway surely - no, no, it cannot be Krulshards!

No, the Nightmare is dead!'

 

Kyot searched through the arrow flights with his fingertips,

feeling for the last spine from Clatterford. 'The Nightmare

has arisen, use your father's arrows if you have any left!' he

shouted to Eventine as he nocked his last arrow from

Clatterford on to his bow and loosed it, shrieking, low across

the courtyard.

 

Kruel laughed again and pushed Arbel through the doors

into the courtyard. 'Take the woman,' he snarled, reaching

out and smashing Kyot's glass arrowblade with his fist, filling

the courtyard of Stumble Hill with a searing white light that

black-etched his shadowy warriors and swarms of shadow rats

in hideous shadows against the tower wall.

 

'Krulshards!' Kyot cried, grabbing for another arrow

knowing in despair there was nothing in his quiver to fell d

Nightmare. Turning the spur, he urged Sprint towards the open

doors, willing Eventine with all his heart to follow him Searching

the quiver, she had found only new-forged steel

arrowblades and nocked one quickly on to the Bow of

Clatterford to loose it at the black-armoured beast rushing

towards her. It seemed to fill the courtyard, laughing and

shouting as it drew closer, spreading a hideous writhing clot

of black shadows to engulf her. The arrow struck the black

armour and bounced, skidding harmlessly away in a shower of

bright sparks. Tanglecrown lowered his antlers and struck Arbel

hard below the knees, lifting him up on his sword sharp crown

and tossing him high against the tower wall. 'Gallop, gallop!'

she shouted, urging the Lord of Stags to follow Sprint for the

lighter patch of sky between the doors where starlight still

shone in the darkness.

 

Kruel cried out in rage and snatched at Eventine's cloak as

she fled, hooking his fingers on to the smooth handle of her

bow. 'Let the bow go!' shouted Kyot twisting in his sadle and

loosing another arrow.

 

As Kyot looked back Through the doors something that

shone purple black landed on his shoulder falling from the dark

archway above the entrance. Eventine screamed and snatched

at something that had fallen on her neck also, and let the bow

slip from her fingers. Kyot cried out as a needle sharp pain

struck him behind his ear and he fell forwards the saddle.

Sprint and Tanglecrown began to slow ~ overwhelmed by

the shadow rats swarming about their hooves. Neighing in

terror, Sprint fell to his knees as she teeth sank into his

tendons. He was falling through Nightmare's darkness: it

was flooding through his veins:

 

forelegs were twisting and buckling beneath him. Tanglecrown

roared once and fell beside him, impaling his flank with his own

glittering stand of antlers as the darkness twisted through him.

 

Kyot rose to his knees, reached up and plucked the

armoured weed worm from his neck. He shuddered in horror

and cried out as he hurled it aside; he was sinking, falling into

the darkness, his head was turning, twisting on his shoulders.

Behind him, less than half a league away, he could see the

Nightmare figure silhouetted between the doors, laughing,

gloating with victory. Beside him, the blackarmoured warrior

pointed out into the grasslands and whispered something

urgently. The Nightmare figure took a giant step towards the

place where Kyot and Eventine lay, then hesitated, turned and

vanished into the tower. Without a sound the shadow rats

melted away leaving the Greenway empty beneath the cold

night sky. Stormclouds had shrouded the stars and large

raindrops began to fall. Kyot tried to move, crying out as

darkness etched its way into his fingers.

 

'Hold the bow,' cried Eventine from where she lay beside

him. 'Whatever you do, hold on to the Bow of Orm!'

 

'There is the Tower,' Rubel called out, pointing to the slender

shape that stood out on the summit of Stumble Hill against the

heavy stormclouds. 'We will be safe and dry once we are within

the doors.'

 

Elionbel lifted her hood against the rain and pressed Stumble

forwards, going over and over in her mind what she should

have told her brother. 'Why did you pledge me, Mother?' she

whispered, bending forwards against the driving rain and

hating herself more with each lie and half-truth she had to tell

to keep that pledge. 'Soon all Elundium will know your

nightmare secret if I cannot kill the bastard,' she muttered

miserably.

 

Rubel paused between the open doors blinking the

rainwater out of his eyes as he searched the shadows.

'Something

is wrong,' he whispered, taking a half-backward step and

bumping into Stumble's shoulder.

 

'What is it?' Elion asked in a hushed whisper, casting back

her hood and looking into the empty rain-glistening

courtyard.

 

It was too quiet. There were always Archers in the

casement slits at each twist of the stairway in the Tower

They should have been challenged long before they reached

the doors.

 

'Perhaps the rain ... look, Here is a light in the inner

courtyard, and another one beneath that doorway.'

 

Rubel wrinkled his nose, still sensing that something was

wrong, and reluctantly passed under the high archway

leading Stumble into the Tower. The horse flattened his

ears, snorting in alarm as they passed beneath the archway

and fought against Rubel's hand upon his bridle but Elionbel

soothed him and coaxed him forwards step by step.

 

'There, there,' she began to say as they reached the centre

of the courtyard when a voice in the darkness laughed quell

and whispered her name.

 

'Rubel!' she cried in panic, snatching the reins from his

hand and pirouetting Stumble in a shower of wet sparks, but

shadowy warriors, their faces hideously etched with veins of

darkness, leapt out of the shadows beneath the Tower wall

and slammed the doors cutting off her escape. Again the

voice laughed and whispered in the darkness. 'Welcome

Elionbel, my sister!'

 

Elionbel's face drained of colour, her heart pounded wildly

the blood thundered in her ears. It was the voice and the

laugh from her nightmare dream, she knew it as soon as she

heard it.

 

'Welcome, sisterspawn!' called another voice from behind

them in the shadow of the doors.

 

Rubel backed a step until his shoulders were against

Stumble's saddle. 'What is it, sister?' he whispered, his eyes

narrowing, his eyebrows drawing together in a frown as he

searched the shadows beneath the archway. That second

voice, he knew it, or would have sworn in better daylights

that it belonged to his brother Arbel, but how could he be

here? The Nightbeasts had taken and killed him long ago.

 

'Arbel?' he called in a voice shaking with uncertainty as he

felt in his dirty pockets for the spark Elionbel had given him.

Something was moving in the darkness; he could sense rather

than see it. His fingers found the spark and closed about it.

Quickly he held it aloft and squeezed it alight.

 

'Arbel!' he cried in horror as the spark blazed in his hand

sending long shadows leaping up the Tower walls from the

black-armoured warrior who loomed towards them.

 

Arbel sneered at him in the sparklight and curled his

armoured lips back across his teeth then lunged forwards

with a long spear. 'I should have killed you in the Wayhouse

at Woodsedge when I first loved the darkness!' he hissed.

 

Stumble snorted in terror and reared up away from a dark

figure approaching on his other flank then plunged sideways,

knocking Rubel off his feet and sending him sprawling across

the cobbles. Arbel screamed with rage as the long spear

ploughed a harmless groove of sparks across the courtyard.

Elionbel heard Kruel's footsteps and twisted in the saddle.

She saw him in that split-second as the spark blazed in

Rubel's hand.

 

'Bastard!' she shouted as the horse crashed sideways,

flinging her on to the cobbles. 'Bastard! Bastard!' she shouted

again and again as she rolled across the courtyard, fumbling

beneath her skirts for the black-bladed dagger.

 

Kruel stared at her as she rolled helplessly, splashing

through the puddles, and he felt his hatred weaken. Pity

welled up in his heart as he watched her rise to face him.

 

'Enough! There will be no killing,' he snapped, pointing a

long finger at Arbel and making him drop the long spear on

the wet cobbles without taking his eye off Elionbel. 'If tHere

is blood between you and this beggar then he must also be

my brother.'

 

'That is Elionbel,' snarled Kerzolde running out from the

inner courtyard and pointing with his one good claw. 'The

one that swore to kill you, the one whose foul name was

linked on the silver cup with the Galloperspawn, Thanehand.'

 

Kruel smiled and wet his lips with the tip of his tongue.

'Brother and sister,' he whispered, motioning Arbel to tern

both Elion and Rubel before him.

 

Elionbel found the dagger moments before Arbel pulled

her to her feet and firmly closed her fingers around the hilt

as he pushed her roughly forwards to kneel upon the wet

cobblestones at Kruel's feet.

 

'Gently, gently, there is blood between us,' Kruel cried.

 

Rubel fell beside her, grazing his dirty knuckles in an effort

to keep his balance. 'Brothers?' he cried, looking in bewilderment

from Elion to Arbel and then up into Kruel's face.

'How are you my brother?'

 

Kruel frowned, searching their faces and seeing something

of himself in each of them. Slowly he reached out his hand

and touched Elionbel's chin. 'Ask your sisterspawn, or is she

so proud of the mixing of our bloods that she keeps it a secret

all to herself?' he whispered, seeing the hatred in her eyes.

 

He gripped her jaw in his strong fingers, forcing her mouth

open. 'Tell him! Tell your brother how my father, Krulshards,

the Master of Nightmares, spawned me on the high

wall of the Granite City in the moment of his victory. Tell

him how he took the Marcherwoman, Martbel, and how she

laughed and sang with joy to be so honoured!'

 

'No! No! No!' screamed Elionbel tearing her face

from Kruel's iron grip, and knocking Rubel out of Arbel's

slippery armoured hold with the force of her struggle.

 

The great doors creaked unnoticed and swung inwards a

hand's span.

 

Elionbel raised the dagger high above her head and

brought it down at Kruel's heart double-handed. 'You Ut

she screamed, releasing all the pent up anger, the half-lies

and untruths, tearing aside the deceits that her mother had

unwittingly pledged her to in order to keep the truth well

hidden. 'The Nightmare took my mother and cruelly raped

her,' she shouted, almost choking on She words. 'In his

moment of defeat he dragged my mother screaming inside

the malice on She high walls of the Granite City. I tried to

help her, to stop the foul . . .'

 

Kruel stared at her, seeing all her blind hatred, and he

caught her wrist in his strong fingers then tore the dagger out

of her hands and threw it harmlessly across She cobbles.

Pushing her downwards he forced her back on to her knees

on the wet ground. 'Martbel was honoured to bear the new

Lord of Darkness,' he hissed. 'I was going to share my

darkness with you - you are my sister by blood, but now you

shall die here on the cobbles for your hatred and your

treachery, for twice now you have raised a blade against me.'

 

'I curse you! I curse you!' shouted Elionbel, struggling to

rise. 'And while there is breach in my body I shall seek your

death, you-you-you foul bastard of the darkness!'

 

Kruel curled his lips in mirthless laughter. Elionbel's

hatred had smothered his pity and reaching down, he pulled

a long blade from his belt. 'For you there shall be no breach,

nor will you share my darkness, sisterspawn, but you will die

alone, unaided and without friends, here in the courtyard of

Stumble Hill.'

 

Rubel had crawled away as far as he could and now hid in

the shadows beneath the Tower was where he balled his fist

in anger. At first he had knelt, smothered in confusion,

looking from Arbel to Kruel trying to understand but now

EUonbel had told him all he needed to know about He foul

Nightmare holding her life at daggerpoint. Desperately he

 

searched the cobbles for a weapon, a discarded arrowshaft, a

spear, anything with which to fight. Elion's dagger glinted,

the raindrops splashed on the black metal and they caught

his eye. Crouching, he bent forwards and stretched his hand

towards the hilt then began to open his mouth to shout a

 

251

 

challengt at Kruel when, with he crash of splintered wood,

the great doors were Hang open

 

'She is not alone!' a strong voice shouted angrily as

sparklight blazed across the rain~soaked courtyard.

 

Kruel turned, dagger posed above his head, ready for the

killing strOke, his mouth half open with surprise. Elion

twisted it his grip and Pried out Horseshoes scattered bright

sparks across the couples. Thoron and Breakmaster were

amongst the shadowy Warriors that thronged the cobbles but

Tombel tan before then both. Marching swords swinging in

rhythm as he charged At Kruel. Arbel snarled and sprang at

his father, thrusting the long Sptar hard at his throat.

 

With one stroke T,ombel smashed the spearshaft and

turned bath swords against his son. 'You are a curse on all of

us, a black Nightmare curse,' he snarled, putting all his

strength behind the blades as they swept down against Arbel's

arms. ~

 

Arbel laughed and staggered backwards, the living cloak of

shadow tats shrieking with rage as the Marching blades cut

through them. Kruel Whistled once for the shadow rats to

attack and threw Elion down amongst their tide of darkness

as it flooded the courtyard. Lunging forwards, he plunged

the long dagger hilt deep through Tombel's armoured shirt

just above his heart, driving hint down on to his knees on the

cobbles. The tattoo of the owl in blue and gold on Tombel's

arm blazed with pure white light as his blood gushed over the

handle of the dagger. The shadow rats squealed and shrieked,

fighting each other as tile light burned their eyes and cleared

a broad circle around him. Breakmaster slipped from the

saddle, bitten by the darkness iust as Beacon Light stumbled

to his knees and fell, the shadow rats swarming all over him.

 

Thorol~ saw Kruel laughing at the light as Breakmaster

and Beacon Light fell, and spurted his horse.

 

Rawantree neighed and reared up with terror, breaking:

free from Thoronts hand as the shadow rats swarmed towards;

him and he turned and fled, galloping out through the open

 

doors. Rubel jumped out of the shadows and clung to

Rowantree's swinging stirrups, taking giant strides beside the

horse as it vanished from sight.

 

Thoron rode forwards and ploughed his way across the

courtyard through the shadow warriors until he faced Kruel

and lowered his sword, his face set in grim lines of defiance.

'By all that is good in the sunlight you shall not leave this

Tower alive!'

 

Kruel laughed from where he towered over Tombel and

snapped his fingers, sending the shadow rats swarming

against Thoron. 'You are nothing but an ancient galloper,' he

mocked, 'you cannot harm me, for I am Kruel, the new

Master of Nightmares, and I am Lord of Elundium! Take

him!' he shouted, snapping his fingers again.

 

Thoron twice raised his sword arm and tried to shout

something against the Nightmare but the swarm of shadows

was too great and his horse fell backwards, toppling beneath

the weight of the foul black rats. Thoron's head twisted

backwards to touch his spine as the nightmare blackness

etched through his veins.

 

Kruel licked his lips and shook Tombel roughly. 'Watch!'

he hissed, forcing Tombel's eyes open. 'Watch your daughter,

Elionbel, and your son, Rubel, become a part of my darkness.'

 

Arbel gripped his sister's wrist and cruelly twisted it up

behind her back then held her over her father's body. 'Watch

her, Father!' Arbel whispered, letting the living cloak of

shadow rats fall across her shoulders.

 

Tombel tried to rise, the blood bubbling in his throat, but

the shadow rats clawed at Elionbel's soft skin. 'I love you,

Father,' she shouted as sharp teeth cut into her neck. 'Mother

loved you and pledged me to kill . . .'

 

Elion sank forwards, her mouth choking on the darkness,

her head spinning as the blackness swallowed her up. Etchings

of spider-fine shadows appeared across her skin, twisting

her fingers, crippling them into tight balls of agony.

 

Tears were flooding down Tombel's cheeks, hopeless tears

of pain and rage as he fought to stand, but with each haunted

breath he was growing weaker and sinking further back on to

the cobbles.

 

'Everything that was once yours will be mine,' gloated

Kruel impatiently, motioning Arbel to bring Rubel forwards.

'Gone?' shouted Kruel, half-rising, his face black with anger.

'How has he gone? Who let him escape?'

 

Tombel gathered the last of his strength and laughed into

Kruel's face then stared blindly into his eyes as he whispered,

'You shall keep nothing of mine or of the sunlight, you will

keep nothing while one of us is free, mark my words on that!'

 

'No!' shouted Kruel, gripping Tombel by his metal shirt

and shaking him violently. Black rage swept through his body

and he lifted the Marcher high above his head, but it was

useless, the moment of victory had been lost. Tombel hung

dead from his fingertips. Rubel had escaped and now Elionbel

was a part of the darkness. For a moment he stared at her

and saw something of himself in her face as their eyes met.

He raised the dagger but he could not kill her. He frowned

and tried again to lift the blade but hastily turned away.

Elionbel caught her breath. For a moment, she thought she

had seen something in his eyes, a shadow of her mother.

 

'A curse on all Marchers,'~he cried, throwing the body

down and turning towards the open doors.

 

'Bind them all in chains and take them to Underfall,' he

snapped, pointing a quivering finger at Breakmaster, Thoron

and Elionbel where they lay amongst the shadow rats. 'They

shall hang in chains beside the Galloperspawn, Thanehand,

in the City of night. They will suffer for this night.'

 

'What of Rubel and the two Archers who escaped?' asked

Arbel, fearing to come too close to Kruel's black rage and

marshalling the shadowy Warriors and night-bitten Archers

on the far side of the courtyard.

 

Kruel stood for a moment, licking at the blood on his

dagger. 'Let the shadow rats follow Rubel and bring him

back to us, for there is blood between us!'

He turned towards the wild grasslands and smiled cruelly

then whistled a huge swarm of black shadow rats about his

feet. Crouching, he spoke to them in a soft voice. 'Spread my

darkness across the grasslands. Take Clatterford and destroy

it, leave nothing for the Archers to escape to, nothing but

destruction.'

 

Rising, he laughed and called Arbel to his side then linked

arms with him. 'Come, brother, let us move forwards and

take all Elundium as our own.'

 

 

A Dark Road Through the Grasslands

 

Kyot shuddered and fought against the darkness. He was

being moved, rolled over. Something sharp was digging,

pushing at his side; there was a gentle sound, a clicking as if

dry bones were rattling against each other. Wet tongues:

licked his face, warm breath moistened his cheeks and a

damp nose was sniffing at his eyelids. He was being lifted off

the ground. The Bow of Orm felt heavy, still locked within

his paralysed fingers it snagged on an unseen branch or rock

and twisted until, with a final jerk, it broke free. Soft whinnies.

and deep-throated calls were all around him: he was moving,

swaying amongst soft branches in a summer wind. Muffled

hoofbeats were everywhere, a dog growled and another

answered it nearby. Kyot's fingertips began to burn and

tingle, the darkness was fading, the noises all about him were

growing suddenly louder, now he could hear the raindrops

beating on the branches overhead and feel the cold water

splashing on to his forehead.

 

'No!' he whispered in panic, trying to push himself up with

his free hand. 'My face, my head - I cannot feel the rain,

 

am lying face down,' he cried. Then the terror of it all flooded

back, the hopeless batle in the Tower, the new Nightmare;

the one without a shadow who had so easily smashed the last

glass arrowhead and laughed at the light, and now their

desperate flight out on to the Greenway had come to nothing.

'Eventine,' he half-whispered, half-sobbed, the word strangling

in his twisted throat as he finally managed to

balancing on the velvet-soft branches, clinging on with his

free hand.

 

Blinking, he forced his eyelids open and cried out. All

about him as far as his twisted neck would let him see were

antlers, huge crowns of glittering bone that clicked and rattled

as they touched. Beyond the antlers amber eyes filled the

rain-soaked darkness.

 

'Be quiet!' hissed Eventine's voice out of the darkness

beside him. 'Lie still and let Orgas, the stag, carry you to

safety.'

 

'Safety?' whispered Kyot, trying to turn towards Eventine's

voice and making Orgas stumble as he moved his weight

within the crown of his antlers.

 

'Lie still or Orgas will fall,' answered Eventine in a hushed

whisper. 'Quiet, we are only two leagues from the Tower on

Stumble Hill.'

 

'How did the stags find us?' Kyot asked. 'And where did

those Border Runners come from?'

 

Eventine looked across with tears in her eyes and smiled

sadly to see the greatest Archer in all Elundium hunched and

crippled within the crown of Orgas' antlers. 'We were

escaping from the Tower when Sprint and Tanglecrown fell.

Tanglecrown called for the stags as he went. In those last few

moments before the black rats swarmed over us he lifted his

great head and called to all his kind; the Border Runners

must have heard his cry and come to our aid.' Eventine fell

silent and watched the road where the stags were turning,

picking their way between the ancient trees that lined the

Greenways' edge. Their way took them out into the wild

grasslands where they vanished from the Greenway as silently

as they had come.

 

Suddenly there were hoofbeats on the road, galloping

hoofbeats that rushed past them on the Greenway and quickly

faded into nothing. 'The stags will take us to Clatterford,' she

whispered, 'and there my father will rearm us with new glass

arrowblades to use against that foul Nightmare.' Eventine

paused for a moment, forcing back the shadows of despair,

knowing deep down in her heart that she could never hold a

bow again or that Kyot could ever look down a smooth

arrowshaft. 'We must warn Thane that Krulshards has arisen

from the dead!' she cried, near to tears.

 

Kyot tried to nod his head and almost tumbled out of the

antlers as both his shoulders swayed backwards and forwards.

'Yes,' he muttered angrily, remembering how easily the

Nightmare had smashed the last glass arrowblade in the

courtyard and realising that with such power he could destroy

the Granite City. Kyot thought back: it had all happened so

quickly but when the arrowblade shattered and the sunlight

from Clatterford blazed across the courtyard the new Nightmare

did not have a shadow. There had been nothing to trap

him with.

 

'Shadowless!' gasped Eventine, listening to Kyot's fears.

'You mean he was so powerful he could defy the light!'

 

Kyot blinked his eyelids despairingly, not daring to try and

nod his head again. 'Yes, nothing can stop him and even if

your father can forge an arrowblade against him we cannot

use it. Your bow is broken and lost in the Tower on Stumble

Hill and I, with the Bow of Orm locked within my fingers,

could never loose the arrow. I am worse than a blind man

with my head twisted back behind my shoulder. Even if we

could gallop to the Granite City we are useless to Thane.'

 

Eventine reached out and brushed her own injured hand

against his arm. 'My father has great power - he may know a

cure; he may have an antidote to those armoured weed worms

that dropped from the Tower archway on to our necks.'

 

Kyot laughed bitterly. 'There will be no cure,' he hissed

fiercely. 'Whoever stormed the Tower will swallow all Elundium

beneath his darkness. There is nothing strong enough;

to stop him, nothing but weak Wayhouses and unguarded

 

villages all the way to the Granite City.'

 

'Yes there is,' answered Eventine. 'There are the Warhorses

and the Border Runners, and the Battle Owls; they

will not let him pass, they will fight for every league, every

blade of grass, every . . .' Her voice faded away. They were

skirting a large area of trampled grassland. Border Runners

and Warhorses lay scattered everywhere. The stench of death

drifted out to meet them on the wet night air and it choked

in her Throat making her cry out.

 

'What is it?' Kyot asked, trying to turn.

 

Orgas moved forwards and swung his body, letting Kyot

see the full horror of the slaughtered animals spread in a

great crescent throughout the grassland. A league beyond,

Meremire Forest stood wrapped in blackest shadows as if

mourning them in silence.

 

Tears welled up, blurring Kyot's eyes, and his mouth

thinned into a grim line of hatred. 'I will hunt that Nightmare

even if I have to follow him like a blind man tapping my bow

to find the way,' he hissed.

 

'They are not all dead - look,'whispered Eventine pointing

a crooked finger at the misshapen bodies, twisted fetlocks

and distorted legs cruelly taken by the darkness. 'Some of

them are so badly crippled that they cannot rise.'

 

A horse whinnied within the circle of stags and Kyot urged

Orgas to turn for him. He laughed with joy as he saw Sprint's

head and neck resting in Tanglecrown's twisted crown of

antlers. Looking more closely he saw how Tanglecrown's

head had been bent sideways until his crown of antlers had

pierced his own flank making him unable to see in front of

him. Sprint's forelegs had buckled and twisted out of shape

but half-mounted on the Lord of Stags they together could

still find a path through the grasslands.

 

Kyot stared at Tanglecrown and Sprint for a moment, the

seed of an idea growing in his mind. 'Let me down, Orgas,'

he whispered, stepping out of the crown of antlers and

 

stumbling blindly backwards in the wet grass clutching at

winter-spent seed heads to keep his balance. Kneeling beside

the nearest Warhorse that showed signs of life he felt along

its twisted legs. The horse could not rise on its own, but he

tried to get Orgas and the other stags to push tHeir antlers

beneath its flanks and shoulder.

 

Eventine laughed softly, seeing clearly what Kyot was trying

to do and carefully climbed to the ground. She called to the

stags and led them forwards amongst the crippled Warhorses.

Bending, whispering, pointing, she helped to smooth and

guide the huge antler crowns beneath the fallen animals. They

were lifted one by one with neighs, shouts, grunts and groans

of pain, until all the Warhorses that had survived Kruel's

attack were back on tHeir feet.

 

Kyot watched in sorrow as the once-proud crescent of

Warhorses hobbled and stumbled towards him. 'Where are you

now, great beasts of war?' he whispered. 'Where now is your

strength to rear and plunge or measure the winter wind in your

flowing manes?'

 

The closest horse whinnied softly and brushed its muzzle on

Kyot's arm; his proud neck was arched, his ears pricked

forward. Kyot smiled sadly, blinking away the tears of defeat

and ran his hand through the Warhorse's silky mane. 'Come:

with us to Clatterford and there we will find a way to fight this

Nightmare,' he whispered.

 

Looking down, he recognised the lame Border Runner

licking at his bow hand. Crouching, he hugged the dog, feeling

its soft wet fur against his neck and remembering all the

hardships they had shared.

 

Eventine was shaking his shoulder, breaking into his

thoughts and whispering and pointing into the long grass.:

'Black rats!' she hissed. 'They are spreading Through the

grasslands all around us. Quick, we must hurry.'

 

Kyot made to follow, took one stride and fell, cursing his

blindness. 'Clatterford will be a ruin if we keep to my pace,' he

muttered crossly, climbing back on to his feet.

 

'Orgas will carry you - quickly, climb up on to his back,'

Eventine urged.

 

Kyot gripped the smooth fingers of antler and sprang

awkwardly on to the stag's back. 'Well, seeing only backwards

can be quite useful. Look, those trees are following- us into the

grasslands.'

 

Eventine turned her head and gasped with delight. There

was a lot of magic in those trees: she could have sworn that

just beyond the doors of Stumble Hill as Sprint and

Tanglecrown were overpowered on the Greenway the trees

had attacked the shadow rats, snaking down and beating them

away.

 

Kyot smiled and remembered how Errant had told the

Archers not to fear the trees. 'We must warn Thane,' he urged

again, remembering how he was alone in the City with only

the horseman Breakmaster and Grey Goose and his strike of

Archers. 'We must go to him, warn him, but how can we when

we move forwards more slowly than the slowest funeral?'

 

'The owls!' whispered Eventine. 'He would heed tHeir

warning.'

 

- Kyot lifted his free hand and motioned helplessly across the

dark rainswept grassland. 'The owls are free and fly far beyond

our sight. How are we ever going to find tHem?'

 

The Border Runner limping beside Orgas suddenly barked

and began careering in wild circles amongst the other dogs,

bringing forward the sound ones not bitten by the darkness.

'Oh yes, Here is a way,' laughed Eventine, leaning down to run

her twisted fingers Through their click sable coats. 'The Border

Runners will find the Owls, they will carry the word of this

new Nightmare through all Elundium.'

 

 

Siege-Locked

 

'How many more daylights? How many?' muttered Thane,

pacing endlessly backwards and forwards the length and

breadth of Candlebane Hall. Each time he reached the

doors he would pause and stare out, searching the Greenway,

looking along the broad sweep of the horizon. 'What news is ~

there?' he would call to the man beside the daylight bell. ~

 

And the answer was always the same. 'None my great

Lord, and King, the road is empty.'

 

Thane turned away and slowly paced the broad aisle to the

high throne, treading carefully in each measured footprint on

the polished marble floor. Now he knew how King Holbian

had worn these footprints, dragging the weights and the

worries of a kingdom backwards and forwards in a cage

without locks or bars. Now he knew why the last Granite

King had worn so brittle with the rub of time, fretting each

daylight to set his foot in the stirrup, to hear the music of

hoofbeats on the road, and feel the wind tugging.

 

'Lord, Great King.' Grey Goose was between the doors,

calling, pointing urgenttly with a new-forged arrowblade out

beyond the city.

 

Thane turned, throwing off his cloak and ran.

 

'There, my Lord, something is there; a horse, yes a horse

is coming fast along the Greenway.'

 

Thane snatched up the long slender glass that stood beside

the doors of Candlebane Hall and searched the empty road.

Backwards and forwards he looked with the glass shaking in

his hand. There was a dust cloud. Slowly he followed it,

twisting the brass cylinder and holding his breath as first the

tail, the quarters and then the saddle came into view.

 

'It is not Stumble!' he cried in despair, thrusting the glass

at Grey Goose and turning sharply on his heel.

 

'No, Lord,' answered the Archer, carefully watching the

riderless horse galloping towards them. 'It is the horse Rowantree

that Thunderstone rode on his return to Underfall. He

is riderless and hard pressed with exhaustion. He . . .'

 

Thane snatched back the glass and searched the road

behind the weary horse. 'Gather your Archers, Grey Goose,'

he shouted, casting the glass aside and running out through

the doors. 'Follow me on to the Greenway. That horse must

run before something, its eyes are wide with terror and its

flanks are white with sweat.'

 

'Lord!' shouted Grey Goose, following Thane as fast as he

could. 'You should stay here and let me go out. There may

be danger . . .'

 

'No!' shouted Thane, letting his standard of the sun flow

out behind him as he ran across the Swanwater bridge, down

the winding steps and sprang into the next level of the city.

'My place is out there upon the crown of the Greenway, for

a King should always be the first where there is danger. I

have sat far too long in idleness upon the throne.'

 

Thane tossed aside the crown and every seal of office then

ran down through each level of the city. His lungs were

burning as he gulped in mouthfuls of air, his legs ached as he

forced them onwards.

 

'Lord, Great King,' the crowds of startled city folk cried

out in surprise, and fell back out of his way, kneeling in the

winding gutters and bowing and curtseying in confusion.

 

'I need warriors to line the Greenways' edge with sharp

swords and Marchers' long spears against an unknown

enemy, not kneeling, pomp and ceremony!' he shouted. He

was red-faced and blowing hard as he descended into the

first circle of the city and tried to force a passage through the

milling throng that blocked the gates.

 

Grey Goose caught up with Thane and moved in beside

him, the Archers following were closing around the King in

a protective hollow column, their arrows ready-nocked upon

the strings. 'Make way for the King!' shouted Grey Goose

above the thunder of his Archers' armoured boots. 'Clear a

path for the greatest Lord of Elundium,' he cried, overturning

carts and upsetting humble criers' booths in his haste to

reach the gates before the King.

 

'No! No!' shouted Thane above the rising panic, putting a

firm hand on the Archer's shoulder. 'Move quietly through

the people. I shall go first and then you shall follow.' Thane

pressed the Archer into silence and slipped out between the

last two carts that blocked the road. Pausing, he searched the

Greenway.

 

'There he is, less than half a league, my Lord,' cried Grey

Goose, running to Thane's side. 'Beyond that line of ancient

trees.

 

Thane lifted the summer scarf above his head and ran

forwards out of the shadows of the great wall, calling

Rowantree's name. The galloping hoofbeats slowed, the wild

jangle of battle harness grew softer. Rowantree stretched his

blackened, sweat-streaked neck and whinnied. He could hear

Thane's voice and see the bright sparkling standard of the

sunlight. He halted beneath the ancient trees and stared back

along the empty Greenway; he pricked his ears and turned

them to listen to the spreading silence.

 

'Be easy! Be easy!' Thane whispered, slowing as he passed

beneath the shadows of the trees and quietly putting his hand

upon the frightened horse's bridle. Bringing the reins over

Rowantree's head, he ran his hand across the sweat-soaked

skin and felt the horse's pounding heartbeat with his fingertips.

Rowantree snorted, struck out at the Greenway and:

turned his head towards the empty road. There was fear in

the whites of his eyes, and terror seemed to haunt each

shallow breath. Thane frowned and knelt. There was blood

on the horse's hooves, foul black blood that had splattered up

over his bedecks and on to his legs and along the underside

of his belly. Thane reached out and touched the speckled

marks, bringing a soiled finger to his nose.

 

The colour faded from Thane's cheeks, as he quickly

cleaned the blood from his hand in the coarse grasses that

grew along the Greenways' edge. Shuddering, he stood up.

'There is death on the road, Grey Goose,' he muttered,

turning towards the silent horizon. 'Nevian feared new

shadows were moving beyond our sight: dark desperate

shadows that have the smell and reek of nightmares wrapped

about them. This is our warning. Nevian gave me wise

counsel to spread our eyes and ears far across Elundium.

Thunderstone must be hard pressed and desperate to send

us such a messenger. But where is Elionbel? Where in all

Elundium is Elionbel?'

 

'Lord, the trees, the trees!' Grey Goose cried and sprang

backwards, an arrow drawn taut upon the string. 'Look up

above your head.'

 

Thane looked up and stepped quickly away from the

Greenways' edge. 'Put down your bows,' he shouted, watching

the gnarled and twisted branches swaying backwards and

forwards. It was as if they were pointing first out towards the

horizon and then back towards the Granite City to tell him

something.

 

'Perhaps the trees are urging us to retreat into the City.

Perhaps this exhausted horse runs before a storm of new

shadows,' Thane muttered, frowning.

 

Grey Goose laughed harshly and pointed back towards the

City with his bow. 'If new shadows are rising against us we

 

could never defend the Granite City, my Lord. Willow built

a honeycomb of open archways and windows on each level.

Only on the summit where there is the wall that holds

Swanwater is it sheer enough to keep danger away. That is

the only place that the Nightbeasts or any new shadows could]

not overrun, the one that surrounds Candlebane Hall.'

 

Thane turned sharply on his Captain Archer, his eyes

blazing with anger. 'Willow and his people laboured freely to

give us back what Krulshards had destroyed. Never, never

speak ill of the Tunnellers, but look to what we must do to

block each arch and barricade each empty window space.

Come quickly and prepare the city in whatever time this great

horse has bought for us.'

 

Rowantree neighed and reared up, thrashing at the empty

air with his forelegs and pulling at the bridle to be gone.

 

'Run, hurry,' shouted Thane, sending the Archers before

him, but he paused a moment beneath the ancient trees. A

frown creased his forehead as he looked up into the moving

branches. Nevian had feared they lived on the edge of

troubled times and he shivered as he sniffed the winter wind.

There was something in the air, he could smell it.

 

The branches swayed faster and the leaves rustled louder

as Thane turned and began to run towards Stumble Gate. 'I

shall prepare the City for a siege,' he shouted over his

shoulder to the ancient trees as the great gate swallowed him

up.

 

Torchlights blazed against the dark night air, men shouted

and cursed their rising and falling hammers as they demolished

the second circle of the city, and they choked on the:

blinding stone dust that billowed up to fill their throats.

'Bring that cart closer!' shouted Arrachatt the stonemason,

cursing the carters as the collapsing wall fell two paces short

of their cart.

 

'We feared . . .' began one of the carters, falling back as

Arrachatt strode towards him.

 

'I have brought a granite tower sliding down on its own

foundations, built bridges in the dark for Granite Kings to

walk upon and you thought that toppling mound of stones

would fall on you! Get it cleared now! We must fill every

window and archway in the outer wall with the stone choke.

Hurry!'

 

'Be easy on them,' whispered a firm voice at Arrachatt's

elbow. 'We must all work together against ...' Thane

hesitated looking out into the darkness. 'Against whatever

grows to threaten the sunlight.'

 

'Lord!' the mason cried, trying to fall on to his knees but

Thane held him up.

 

'There is no time for ceremony, mason, you serve me

better on your feet!'

 

Arrachatt smiled in the darkness knowing that when the

danger came this new King of Elundium would stand just as

proud as the last Granite King. 'Lord,' he said quietly, 'every

archway and window space on the ground level in the great

wall will be filled with rubble and sealed before the new sun

rises, but it will take us many daylights to block the upper

walkways.'

 

Thane nodded and smiled in the darkness. Elionbel's

flight, Nevian's fears and a frightened horse had made him

perhaps a little overquick to prepare for a siege. What if

Nevian was questing at shadows and jumping at half-truths?

What if nothing threatened the sunlight and Elionbel was

safe at Woodsedge? If only she had not galloped out in a rush

of hoofbeats, taking Fate into her own hands.

 

Grey Goose touched his arm and pointed up to where the

striker waited by the daylight bell with his hammer poised to

herald the new morning and to the criers who ringed the

great wall, turning their hourglasses in anxious hope of the

new daylight, but still the grey hours had not given way to the

 

rising sun.

 

Thane frowned and stared out into the darkness, straining

his ears against the growing silence and wishing Mulcade was

on his shoulder perch. He sighed and drew his cloak more

tightly about his shoulders then looked up towards the cold

winter stars. 'I am the King,' he whispered to himself. 'I must

lead without a shadow of doubt treading on my heels. I must

not show my fears or hesitate. I must not show how Elionbel's

absence fills me with dread.'

 

Gathering his courage, he laughed as he turned and

gripped the Archer's arm. 'We can do nothing but wait for

the new morning, why even the sun has held its breath and

given the stonemason precious moments to secure the Granite

City.'

 

'Lord, the City is not secure,' whispered Grey Goose,

trying to edge the King away from the mason. 'There are a

thousand culverts and gutterings that pass through the great

wall, surely they should be filled with stone choke?'

 

Thane laughed again. 'Nevian spoke of rumours and a

horse runs to us with blood on its fetlocks and you tremble

with fear that something may crawl through the sewers to

cover us with shadows. No, we wall up our defences against

. . .' Thane paused and spread his hands helplessly. 'Nightbeasts?

Shadowy nightmares large enough to swing a sword

against? Now go down amongst the people and if it calms

your fears break open the armoury and arm them, let every;

man and woman, young or old, be ready for whatever the ~

new daylight brings.'

 

Thane looked up at the stars seeing how pale they were

against the lightening sky and knew that the grey hours would

soon be upon them, but as he arched his hand against his:

forehead he watched the horizon and saw a darkness that

would spoil the daylight. He ordered every candleman and

lamplighter up on to the great wall and warned them to be

ready with sharp sparks in their hands, telling them they must

wait for the King's signal. No matter where he stood, they

must look for the banner of the sun, follow it with their eyes

and be ready.

 

'Lord,' Grey Goose pleaded, returning to the King, 'I beg

you to retire within the sheer wall that encircles Swanwater

and Candlebane Hall. There you will be safe and my archer

strike can defend you.'

 

Thane smiled at his Captain and turned him, sweeping his

outstretched hand across the frantic crowds preparing for a

siege in the first circle of the city. 'Where should a King

stand, my brave Archer, but first before the storm, for that is

the purpose of a King: to spread his cloak of courage as far

as the cloth will stretch to keep the people from harm. Go

now amongst the people and marshal tHem, calm them, just

in case the new daylight Greatens to do no more than cast

cool shadows through the Stumble Gate and a safe road

winds out past those ancient trees towards the horizon's

edge.'

 

'Lord,' cried Grey Goose, his voice now fully edged with

despair. 'King Holbian pledged me to guard you with my life.

I beg you, if you will not seek safety at least let the armourers

clothe you in the strongest steel. Let . . .'

 

'No!' laughed Thane, putting an end to the Archer's pleas

by casting his cloak aside to show the fine steel-ringed battle

shirt he wore. 'This is armour enough. More would only

burden my sword-arm and make me leaden-footed in the

shock of batle. Go quietly now and gather the candlemen.'

 

'Lord, there are black shadows closing in about the City,'

shouted a watchman above the Stumble Gate.

 

Thane frowned. How could shadows have closed in all

about them, there had been no Nightbeasts' screams, nothing

but an unnatural silence to herald the dawn. Twisting the

long slender glass he had brought down from Candlebane

Hall, he swept it backwards and forwards along the edge of

the advancing shadows and watched them eat away at the

bleak winter fields and hedgerows, swallowing the grey

morning light in their darkness. Slowly he moved the glass to

the crown of the Greenway and stopped. There were Warhorses,

Border Runners and a great crowd of wild animals

pressed together on the crown of the road, racing the shadows

towards the Granite City.

 

Thane blinked, rubbed his eyes and stared again. 'By all

 

the wonders of Elundium,' he cried.

 

Steadying the glass and twisting the slender cylinder

between his fingertips he brought the fleeing animals clearly

into focus and then he saw them, desperate figures, running,

limping, stumbling along amongst the close-pressed

Warhorses. 'Keep the gates open! All Nature runs before this

unnatural darkness!' he shouted, thrusting the glass into the

nearest Archer's- hand before he turned towards the long ramp

that led down into the first circle of the city.

 

'Lord, the gates are closed,' cried Grey Goose, running to

keep pace with Thane. 'They were closed and sealed before

night fell. We cannot . . .'

 

'Open them!' demanded Thane. 'Elionbel may be amongst

those on the Greenway, I know not who nor how many run

before that dark storm but I saw flashes of light, sparks or

swordblades shining in this shadowlight. It could be the

warriors of Underfall, or Stumble Hill, or ...' His voice faltered,

his knuckles whitened on the hilt of his sword. '. . . or Elion.'

 

'Open the gates,' shouted Arrachatt the mason, tearing at the

jumble of carts and baskets of rubble piled high against the

gates.

 

Rumbling and grinding across the broken cobbles, pushing

the litter and stone choke aside, the great gates slowly creaked

open just wide enough to let Thane through.

 

'We are with you, Lord,' cried a throng of city folk, spilling

through the widening door crack, their spears and swords held

awkwardly in their hands.

 

Thane laughed with pride to see them follow him so bravely

and brought them to a halt with an outstretched hand. 'You are

a great people,' he shouted, 'and I will make you into even

greater Warriors.'

 

Thane called to the Archers and sent them up on to the high

ground beyond the dyke. 'Grey Goose and his Archer strike will

watch over us and cover our retreat back to the city.'

 

Taking the nearest long spear, Thane showed the city folk

how to dig the shaft butt deep into the frosty turf and kneel

with the spearblade pointing out towards the advancing

shadows. 'The swordsmen must stay between the spearmen,' he

instructed, 'shoulder to shoulder, on each side of the Greenway.

Let whoever runs before those foul shadows pass between you

and then retreat inwards through the hollow column you have

formed. Remember, everyone of you must keep his place or the

hollow column will crumble to nothing. The Archers have the

high ground and will keep you safe.'

 

Silently, the grim-faced city folk nodded and formed a tight

hollow column that bristled with sharp-bladed spears and

stretched out until it reached the first grove of the ancient

trees. Thane knelt beneath the trees and pressed his ear to the

ground. 'They are drawing closer,' he muttered, turning his

head and putting the other ear to the frost-cold turf.

 

As he knelt he frowned at the muddle of noise he could hear.

There were hoofbeats, slow irregular hoofbeats that were

without a rhythm, and the patter of lighter feet. Now he could

hear wild growling, barking and the screaming of Warhorses.

Jumping to his feet he drew his sword.

 

'Be ready!' he shouted, unfurling the standard of the sun to

catch what little light there was. He strode out upon the crown

of the Greenway.

 

The candlemen on the high wall of the city saw the banner

and each one struck his spark. Bright lights blazed out against

the advancing shadowlight and for a moment turned the

gathering darkness back into day. The ancient trees rustled and

swayed backwards and forwards and seemed in that brief flash

of light to gather closer around their King. The dark line of

shadows hesitated and swayed on the crown of the road.

Thane cried out and froze mid-stride as the ground about his

feet suddenly seemed alive with fleeing panicstricken animals.

Long-eared hares, forest deer and silver foxes fought and

scrambled with sharp-spired hedgehogs and savage night

 

boars for the crown of the road.

 

'Let them pass between you,' he shouted to the city folk in

the hollow column. 'Let all Nature's creatures pass beneath

your spearblades into the city for they run as chaff before this

nightmare darkness.'

 

Now there were shouts and the thunder of hoofbeats. Thane

spun around, the bright banner of the sun fanning out behind

him, and saw the Greenway crowded with Warhorses; and

Border Runners. Pressed in amongst them were desperate

warriors running on the crown of the road. Thane swept his

sword aloft and made to leap forwards but the shout of joy died

on his lips and his sword-arm fell helplessly to his side. The

Warhorses and the Border Runners were hideously crippled,

Umping and crawling, pressing together for safety, running on

bloody fetlocks and shattered knees. Their onceproud heads

and necks cast strange shadows, twisted and out of shape, and

their white eyes rolled in terror. Neighing shouts of panic filled

the air.

 

~Lord, retreat back into the City,' shouted Errant from

amongst the crowd, with his broken bloody sword still locked

between his crippled fingers. 'You cannot stand and fight. Run

before the black rats bite you!'

 

'Run for your life!' he cried again from between two

Warhorses on the crown of the road.'

 

'Elionbel! Is Elion with you?' cried Thane, forcing his way

forwards through the retreating warriors and seeing Duclos the

deaf swordsman fighting for his life on the edge of the

Greenway as the Border Runners and Warhorses swept all

around him.

 

she is not on the road, Lord,' cried Errant, stumbling to his

knees at thane's feet.

 

she must be with you,' cried Thane desperately, catching

the fading horseman and gathering him up in his arms as he

searched frantiCally amongst the figures fleeing towards the

City.

 

Panicstricken' Errant thrust his gnarled hands up into the air

and swept them across the crowded road. 'These are all I could

gather as I fled from the new darkness. I was on the road near

stumble Hill searching for Willow when the black

rats struck. They carry a darkness that etches and burns its

way through you and there are shadowy warriors following

behind them that will kill anyone they catch. We had no time to

stop or rest. You must run, my King. Everything they bite is

filled with nightmare shadows. Run before it is too late!'

 

'What of Woodsedge? Was Tombel or Thoron there? Have

they seen Elionbel?' Thane cried, pulling Errant to his feet and

staring at the advancing shadows. Now he could see the black

rats' brittle spines and hear their shrieks of rage as they

swarmed against the last retreating Warhorses, biting at their

fetlocks and trying to pull them down.

 

'Woodsedge was empty, my Lord. The door hung open

swinging on its hinges,' Errant answered against the fierce

neighing and wild barking that suddenly broke out beneath the

very edge of the shadows where the Warhorses and the

Border Runners were rearing and plunging as best they could

to drive the shadow rats back.

 

'Esteron! Equestrius!' shouted Thane, recognising the two

great battle-weary Warhorses holding back the rats.

 

'The Warhorses came to us in the grasslands,' Errant

shouted. 'They have fought against the black rats without rest,

crushing them beneath their hooves, but you must escape

while there is still time.'

 

'No!' shouted Thane as the swarming shadows began to

engulf them. 'I will not abandon the ones I love. I will not leave

the Greenway while the Warhorses or the Border Runners

fight.'

 

Esteron heard Thane's voice and, lifting his head, he roared

out the Warhorse challenge. Thane let the standard of the sun

flow out from his sword arm and called across the Greenway. 'I

 

am with you, Esteron, though all the darkness swarms before

us. I will never leave your side again.'

 

Crushing the foul black rats beneath his armoured boots

Thane fought his way to Esteron's side. 'If only we had

warriors now,' he shouted above the screaming of the shadow

rats and the neighing of the Warhorses as he lifted his blade

with both hands firmly on the hilt.

 

Esteron snorted and brushed his bloody muzzle on

Thane's cheek. Thane smiled and looked up past Esteron's

head. 'Look! the trees have come to our aid. Look!'

 

Esteron whinnied and Thane laughed as the branches

twisted downwards all around them, crushing the shadow

rats, lifting and hurling them high into the air.

 

'There are metal helms, sharp swords and spears in the

branches,' cried Errant, falling on to his knees in terror.

'Look, up there at the trees! They are changing into warriors!'

 

Thane laughed again and shook his head. The ground

about their feet was clear of the nightmare rats, the ancient

trees had driven them back to the edge of the Greenway.

'There is no need to fear them, their magic is of great help to

 

us.'

 

Thane turned towards the city, pointing with his bloody

sword to where the last of the Warhorses had safely passed

through the hollow column. 'Now we must retreat as fast as

we can,' he shouted as Esteron and Equestrius closed in on

either side of him. He turned and gave a great shout of joy as

he saw Grannog, the Lord of Dogs, limping to his heels.

They had won a great battle and had rescued all those that

fled before the shadow rats but he knew they would need

more than magic trees to reach the safety of the City before

the rats overran them. He bent and rubbed his hand across

Grannog's battle-weary head.

 

'Lord, the sky is growing darker,' cried Errant, turning in

despair towards the city only to see the last of the hollow

column shrink beneath the Stumble Gate. 'We stand all

alone, abandoned. Now the blackest night will swallow us

up.'

 

Thane looked from the dark shapes crossing the weak

morning sunlight to the closing gates and made his decision.

'Where better, Errant, to make a stand than here upon the

crown of the road?' he laughed, the grim light of battle in his

eyes. 'And who better to have at your shoulder than the Lord

of Horses and the fiercest Border Runners who ever roamed

Elundium? Come, brave horseman, and stand beside me.

Help me build a wall of dead that will climb higher than the

evening stars!'

 

Esteron neighed and roared, Equestrius arched his neck

and turned proudly while Grannog bared his fangs and

crouched between Thane's feet. 'We shall have light,' cried

Thane, letting the standard of the sun float freely from his

arm and the summer scarf rippled and began to float across

the Greenway as if tugged by secret winds. Thane felt a cold

breeze touch his forehead and caught the scent of a clean

bright winter's dawn from far far away. The shadow rats were

closing in a tight circle, huge swarms of them were scuttling

between the trees, overpowering the flailing branches, gnawing

at the roots and toppling the trees one by one. Thane

tensed his muscles and turned his sword to use the flat of the

blade and stole a glance up into the darkening sky.

 

'By all Elundium! We are saved!' he shouted, stamping on

the first shadow rats to attack.

 

Then Errant looked up and laughed and cried with joy as

the air about his head filled with stooping Battle Owls. Sharp

beaks and razor talons ripped and tore at the rats and carried

them high into the lightening sky before letting them hurtle

to their deaths on the hard frosty earth below.

 

'I missed you, Mulcade!' Thane wept as the great bird of

war settled lightly on his shoulder.

 

'Run, Lord, the road behind you is clear,' shouted Grey

Goose from the high ground beyond the dyke. 'The owls

have cleared you a path. Escape while you can!'

 

Thane laughed and caressed the owl's soft chest feathers.

 

Mulcade hooted and stooped to Thane's feet, hooking a huge

black shadow rat in his talons. 'Keep the doors open just a

crack,' shouted Thane as they ran.

 

Trotting and stumbling, they covered the last few strides

and squeezed through the closing doors. Arrows and

spearshafts thrown from the walls above fell behind them as

thick as winter rain on to the rats that were close on their

heels. Thane turned, his sword in his hand, and looked out

between the closing gates of the city where he caught a

glimpse, a frozen picture of a tall nightmare figure that

seemed to rise above the shadows. Dead locks of hair

streaming out from the bony crown of his head, he had a

black shadowy flag floating at his side that seemed to swallow

the daylight.

 

'Krulshards!' he whispered, sinking down in despair on the

cold cobbles. 'The Master of Nightmares is once again loose

in Elundium!'

 

Kruel halted amongst the ancient trees that now lay

shattered and broken, beside the road and gloated with

triumph as he watched Thanehand marshal into the city the

last of the wretched warriors, Warhorses and dogs. Everywhere

behind him his shadowlight fogged the Greenway; all

Elundium, right to the very gate of the Granite City, had

fallen so easily beneath his darkness. He would starve the city

level by level, spreading his darkness street by street, forcing

Thanehand to retreat ever upwards towards Candlebane

Hall. Laughing, he cast his warriors in a tightening ring of

terror around the great wall so that none would escape him

and sent forward his black tide of shadow rats into the

culverts and sewers to do their work. Soon Thanehand's

warriors would be fighting each other as the darkness spread,

soon everything would fall beneath the shadows.

 

 

Rubel Finds his Purpose

 

Rubel had caught hold of Rowantree's empty stirrup as the

horse galloped-free of the Tower of Stumble Hill and clung

on to him until his fingers had burned themselves raw with

numbness. Looking back he saw dark shadows spread out far

across the grasslands behind them. 'We cannot escape

together,' he shouted against the rushing wind. 'Without my

weight burdening the saddle you can gallop to the Granite

City and warn the . . .'

 

Rubel fell silent, biting his lips. There were tears in his

eyes: tears of anger and cold hatred, tears of despair and

shame at having abandoned Elionbel and his father so easily

in that dark courtyard. 'I will find a way to destroy that

bastard half-brother,' he shouted through his tears. 'Tell the

King.'

 

As he let the stirrup slip through his fingers he fell and

sprawled headlong across the crown of the road. Climbing

painfully to his knees he watched the galloping horse until its

hoofbeats faded into nothing. 'For all Elundium's sake, warn

the King!' he whispered desperately before turning back

towards the advancing shadows.

 

Crouching, he quickly looked left and right across the

Greenway. Circumstance had reduced him to a hunter of

vermin and he knew all their foul ways and dirty secrets.

'Shadow rats!' he hissed through clenched teeth, knowing he

could not outrun them, knowing they would scent him no

matter where he hid. He caught on the hem of an idea as he

moved to the side of the road and lay flat. He slipped

noiselessly beneath a low branched tangle tree and waited,

his hands outstretched, his thumbs and first two fingers

almost touching.

 

He smelt them and heard the sharp rattle of their claws

long before they reached the place where he hid. Banking,

he held his breath. They were almost upon him now, spread

out in a ragged Une of darkness. Flattening his hands, he let

the first dozen rats run, unaware of him, across his fingers.

They were slowing, squealing and sniffing, running in circles,

searching for his scent. Rubel had waited as long as he dared.

Flexing the muscles in his arms he snapped his fingers shut

on two long rats' tails; a quick flick of his wrist and both their

backs were broken as neatly as stalks of straw. The shrieks of

surprise were cut short in their throats. Rubel quietly drew

the black rats into his hiding place beneath the tangle trees,

and with the blade he had snatched up from the courtyard on

Stumble Hill he slit open their bellies with one stroke of the

knife then rubbed their foul black blood all over his hands,

arms and face. Holding each rat by its tail he stripped back

the skin and wrapped it around his hands. Reaching forwards

from beneath the branches he plucked another two shadow

rats from the Greenway, killed and skinned them; again and

again his hands slipped silently out between the close-grown

branches until he was clothed from head to foot in the brittlespined

rats' skins.

 

Laughing silently, his teeth showing stark white against the

streaks of black blood, he crawled out on to the Greenway

and passed unnoticed through the swarms of shadow rats and

night-bitten warriors. He did not stop until he was far away

from the Greenway. He found a dark tree-ringed hollow

beside a stagnant pool and there he sank down, covered his

head with his hands, and wept.

 

For several shadowy daylights he sank deeper and deeper

into despair beside the stagnant water and lay deaf to the

tramp of Kruel's growing nightmare army as it passed all

around him, closing and tightening its grip on the Granite

City. Shadow rats swarmed down through the hollow in black

droves, drank their fill from the fetid waters in the pool and

quickly moved on, leaving their muddy clawprints in grey

crisscross patterns on the brittle skins he had spread across

his back.

 

'Rubel, Rubel,' whispered a voice from beneath the overhanging

trees, 'your King has great need of you.'

 

Rubel shook his head, putting his hands over his ears and

tried to crawl deeper into the mud but the voice cut through

the shadowy light, forcing him to look up.

 

'Rubel, the King stands siege-locked in the Granite City.

None can enter or leave, not even I with all my magic can

pass through the shadow rats. The King has nothing but a

strike of Archers to defend the sunlight.'

 

Rubel opened his blood-streaked eyelids and stared at the

muted colours in the rainbow cloak, each one shrouded so

that it was no stronger than the flickering of a candle flame.

'Nevian!' he hissed, not daring to do more than whisper.

'The shadow rats or the Nightmare Warriors will see you on

the rim of this hollow, get down and out of sight.'

 

Nevian laughed quietly and wrapped the colours of the

rainbow cloak into even tighter folds to hide their beautiful

colours, then descended to the bottom of the hollow and sat

down beside Rubel. 'Tell me all,' he whispered, taking

Rubel's hands and running his aged fingers across the brittle

spines of fur on the shadow rats' skins.

 

'Lord, you must know more than a simple ratcatcher for

you are Nevian, the Master of Magic who has a hand on

every man's destiny.'

 

Nevian laughed softly and held-Rubel's eye. 'And you,

Rubel, can catch and kill the very beasts that are laying waste

to all Elundium. That would seem a mighty task for a simple

ratcatcher. Now, tell me quickly all you know, for in truth I

am stumbling blindly in this darkness with only a few threads

at my fingertips and know not where next to tread.'

 

Rubel drew closer to the Master of Magic and spread a

dozen ratskins across his back to hide him from the shadow

rats before telling him all that had happened since he met

Elionbel upon the road.

 

'Now I begin to see why the rainbow cloak has not faded,'

whispered Nevian, rubbing his hand across his forehead.

'This beast that calls himself your half-brother must be a part

of Krulshards and the mixing of his blood with Martbel's has

made him so powerful he can deny the sun a shadow. Now I

see the shadow that burdened Elionbel's heart. Martbel must

have pledged her to keep the rape a secret.'

 

Rubel nodded silently and shrunk down into the stinking

ratskins he had laced about his body. 'Nothing can harm him.

Nothing!' he whispered miserably, looking out of the hollow

at the shadowy half light and frowning. The wind had

changed and there was a smell of snow in the air.

 

Nevian touched his arm, bringing his mind back into the

hollow. 'You are wrong, Rubel,' he whispered, 'everything

has a weakness, a flaw or a hairline crack just below the

surface. Nothing is all good or all bad.'

 

'But I saw him smash spearblades and shatter swords,

melting the forged steel between his fingertips. Nothing in all

Elundium is as strong as that! Nothing save Krulshards, the

Master of Nightmares.'

 

Nevian smiled and gripped Rubel's arm. 'Yet Thanehand

trod on Krulshards' shadow and slew him. Think, Marcher

Rubel, think, there must be a weakness. You have stood close

to him, you must have seen it.'

 

Rubel threw up his hands in despair. 'There is nothing.

All I see is his foul shadowless shape filling the courtyard of

the Tower of the Stumble Hill, sneering and gloating as he

tortured poor Elionbel.'

 

'Enough of your weakness!' snapped Nevian, shaking

Rubel firmly by both his shoulders. 'Your sister is a prisoner

of this new Nightmare, your King fights a hopeless batle

trapped on the Granite City while you lie here, weeping with

self-pity in the mud of this hollow because you shrank away

into the darkness rather than stand and fight.'

 

Rubel slowly looked up into the magician's ancient face.

'What, Lord, could I have done against Kruel's power?'

 

Nevian smiled, his eyes softening as he gripped Rubel's

hand. 'Your thread of Fate is closely woven with the King's

through Elionbel. You have cursed him and now seen the

wrong in those hateful words. You hesitate to ask his

forgiveness yet you have the power to pass secretly through

the Nightmare's shadows and fetch the sword forged by

Durondel.'

 

'Sword?' cried Rubel, forgetting for a moment the swarms

of shadow rats beyond the lip of the hollow.

 

'Hush!' whispered Nevian, putting a finger on his lips and

pulling the Marcher to the ground. 'Your King fights without

the blade of Durondel hot-forged to pierce Krulshards'

rotten heart. If there is no other weakness in this Nightmare's

spawn perhaps that blade might in some way cut through his

strength.'

 

'Where is it?' hissed Rubel, the whites of his eyes flashing

in the darkness.

 

Nevian lifted his arm and pointed out beyond the wild

grassland towards World's End. 'One mighty direst drove

that sword through Krulshards' heart, pinning him to a

column of rock in the high chamber of the City of Night. Go

quickly, my brave Marcher, for each daylight grows darker

and more desperate.'

 

'But you say that none can enter the Granite City - what

 

good will the sword do if I cannot put it into the King's

hand?' asked Rubel, half-rising and crouching, ready to slip

out of the hollow.

 

Nevian frowned and tilted his aged head to one side

searching into his foresight through the webs of shadows

Kruel had woven across Elundium. 'Everything will be

swallowed by this shadowlight,' he whispered, turning to

Rubel. 'The sunlight will fade to nothing and the Granite

City will fall beneath Kruel's darkness, but Thane will escape

from the City. I can see him in the last ray of sunlight. You

will find him there by following the ancient trees that now

line the Greenways' edge.'

 

'Trees! What trees? Elundium is full of trees!' hissed

Rubel. 'What trees do I follow?'

 

Nevian smiled and pointed up to where the row of twisted

ancient stands of timber lined the hollow's edge. 'Those trees

were my last great act of magic at Thane's crowning. Have

faith, Rubel, for they will lead you to the last ray of sunlight

to shine in all Elundium. Follow them and they will bring you

to your King.'

 

'Nevian, I am so afraid, so alone, stay with me and guide

me through the darkness,' Rubel implored the magician,

gripping his cloak with his trembling fingers. 'Help me!'

 

Nevian smiled sadly at the frightened Marcher and carefully

drew a glowing thread from the rainbow cloak which he

bound around Rubel's wrist. 'Hide this magic thread beneath

those foul ratskins and use it in the darkness in the City of

Night; it will guide you in the dark and give you courage to

carry the sword. Now I must find a secret way into the

Granite City and warn Thanehand before this Nightmare

darkness swallows up everything.'

 

'Nevian - the ratskins, use them to hide your scent. I can

collect more as I travel,' urged Rubel.

 

Nevian laughed and took the foul brittle strips of fur the

Marcher offered and fashioned a cloak of shadows that hid

his purpose and would allow him to pass unseen and

unnoticed through Kruel's army of darkness. 'Remember,'

he whispered, as Rubel rose to leave the hollow, 'once you

have the sword follow the ancient trees and they will lead you

to the king.

 

 

The Loremaster Finds his Courage

 

Silverpurse's eyes were greedy with desire as he crept towards

Elionbel.

 

'Master, leave her be!' cried Pinchface the Loremaster.

From the moment that Elionbel was thrown into the dungeons

of Underfall he had tried to stop Silverpurse from

taking her. 'She is bound by ties of blood to our Lord Kruel.

He would kill you for . . .'

 

Silverpurse turned savagely on the Loremaster and

knocked him off his crippled feet, sending him with one

sweeping blow hard against the dungeon wall. Turning back,

the Chancellor's son bared his teeth and reached out for the

hem of Elionbel's cloak and, gripping the fabric, he began to

pull her towards him. 'I shall take your Queen of Elundium;

the cursed candlecur's wife shall be mine!' he gloated, a fine

trickle of saliva escaping from his bleak and bloodless lips.

 

'No!' shouted Breakmaster, straining against the chains

that bound him to the sheer granite walls of Underfall.

 

Thoron cursed Silverpurse as the iron shackles bit into his

bleeding wrists, but they were both powerless.

 

Twisting against the rusty iron links that held him Breakmaster

glared across the dirty chamber to where the huddle

of rags and bones that had once been the Loremaster of the

Granite City lay, nursing his cuts and bruises. 'How many

times will you betray your true King?' he shouted angrily.

 

Pinchface huddled closer to the wall, scratching his fingernails

across the rough granite to shut out the horseman's

words.

 

'Twice King Holbian forgave your treachery and twice you

trod on his mercy and turned against him. Now you lie there

cowering while that base treacherous Chancellor's son defiles

your Queen!'

 

Silverpurse laughed at the horseman, a howling savage

sound that had about it the cry of wolves, blood-hungry for

an easy kill, and he drove his dagger deep into Breakmaster's

neck. 'Bite on my blade and shout about that!' he snarled,

thrusting the dagger to the hilt and wiping his bloody hands

on Elionbel's skirts. His eyes half-closed with delight as he

hovered over her. 'You shall crawl in the dust beside that

wretched Loremaster and do all my bidding.' Elionbel shrank

against the wall, paralysed with terror and disgust.

 

'Now is your moment, loremaster,' urged Thoron, pulling

desperately against his shackles. 'Thane will pardon every

treachery if you . . .'

 

Silverpurse cackled with triumph and cut across Thoron's

words as with one hand clamped across her mouth to drown

her screams he tore at Elionbel's skirts. 'Loremaster can do

nothing, Thoronhand. His life is mine to treat and tread on

as I please. Mine to crush and crumble.'

 

Pinchface huddled against the rough granite wall pressing

his hands hard into his ears but Thoron's words echoed and

thundered in his head. He saw shafts of sunlight in the

Learning Hall and a boy who once dared to stand against

him. Bright shining colours in a rainbow cloak and a strong

voice that had once made him tell the truth. 'Nevian, give me

courage!' he whispered, flexing his fingers and twisting them

together. Slowly he rose, pressing himself flat against the

wall.

 

Elionbel bit at the hand clamped across her mouth and

cried out, fighting with all her strength. Pinchface blinked

and bit his lip at each screaming cry and hobbled as fast as

his feet would allow to where Breakmaster hung limply in his

chains. Reaching up he grasped the hilt of the bloody dagger

and pulled it from the horseman's throat.

 

'Fear drove me to treachery,' he whispered, leaning heavily

against Breakmaster while he carefully turned his damaged

feet towards the Chancellor's son. Balancing as best he could

he raised the dagger above his head and threw himself on

Silverpurse's back, plunging the dagger into his back. 'I am

no man's slave!' he shouted as all the hidden anger and

hatred of the Chancellors boiled to the surface.

 

Silverpurse screamed as the blade cut into him and he

sprawled forwards across the dirty stone floor. Rolling over

he reached with his hand and searched with his fingertips for

the hilt of the dagger. 'Curse you, you foul nothing, you

worm!' he snarled, choking on the hot sticky blood that filled

his mouth. Rising to his knees he stumbled; anger and

surprise crossed his hateful face as he began to topple

forwards and he clutched the Loremaster's ragged cloak.

'You serve no man - no man but me, Loremas . . .'

 

Pinchface prised Silverpurse's fingers from his cloak as he

wriggled away from the dead Chancellor's son. He shuddered

and searched through Silverpurse's pockets for the dungeon

keys.

 

'Are there others held prisoner?' Thoron whispered as he

helped Elionbel hold Breakmaster while the Loremaster

steadied his shaking hands and unlocked the chains.

 

'Only two,' answered Pinchface, nodding towards a small

door set on the far side of the chamber. 'A crippled Archer

and a charred healer who dared to stand against this foul new

Master of Nightmares. He set the Healer alight and laughed

as he burned.'

 

'Merion the Healer? Quick, set him free before Breakmaster

bleeds to death,' Thoron cried, snatching the bunch of

keys from the Loremaster's hands and searching for the one

 

that would turn the lock.

 

'Oiled cottons, use oiled cottons,' whispered a voice from

a pile of burnt rags that huddled on the floor, pointing with

his blackened fingers to a bag half-hidden beneath his bed of

straw.

 

Tiethorm bent and hooked the bag of oiled cottons on his

injured fingers and passed them to Elionbel. She shuddered,

her throat tightening, as she watched Tiethorm carefully lift

Merion and carry him over to where Breakmaster lay.

Bending, she put her ear against his cracked lips and searched

through the oiled cottons for the one he whispered would

heal a knife wound.

 

'We must escape,' Thoron muttered, opening the chamber

door by the merest crack and peering down a long dark

tunnel. Footsteps and the sharp scrape of rats' claws echoed

in the courtyard somewhere above.

 

'How many shadowy warriors are there?' he asked, closing

the door and turning towards Pinchface. 'How many?'

 

Pinchface threw up his hands. 'Ten? Twenty? I have never

counted them. But there are thousands of those foul black

rats, far too many to count. They come and go,' he answered.

'Sometimes there are only a dozen shadowy warriors, but the

rats . . .'

 

'No,' whispered Tiethorm shaking his head, 'the rats will

not harm us. They have already bitten each one of us into the

darkness, they cannot harm us again, but we must be wary of

the shadowy warriors for unlike us they have become a real

part of the new darkness.'

 

'Why?' asked Elionbel looking up from Breakmaster's

wound. 'What makes us different from the shadowy warriors?

How do you tell us apart?'

 

Tiethorm laughed bitterly and held up his bow-hand. 'It is

clear to see, my Lady. Those that love the darkness are

etched with veins of night, while those who love the sunlight

are crippled by the rats' bite.'

 

'Thus we shall know our enemies,' choked a voice at

Elionbel's side.

 

'Hush!' she scolded, turning on Breakmaster. 'You will see

less if you do not rest until the wound closes.'

Breakmaster smiled and took her twisted hands into his

and whispered. 'I pledged the King I would find you and

bring you safe home.'

 

'Home will be a black ruin,' answered Thoron, stumbling

blindly against Silverpurse's body as he crossed the chamber,

cursing the shadows for his twisted neck.

 

Tiethorm laughed harshly. 'If you stood there, Thoron,

without a flaw I would surely have to kill you!'

 

Thoron laughed in return and nodded painfully. 'Come,

we must hurry and escape to warn Thane of . . .' he paused

and looked at Elionbel.

 

'Of Kruel,' she answered tearfully, unable to hold his gaze.

'That bastard beast that crawled out of my mother's belly to

cause all this pain, all this . . .'

 

Thoron reached out and turned her head, holding her gaze

and for long moments looked into her heart. 'I know, child,'

he whispered softly. 'We heard it all through the doorcrack

of Stumble Hill. Martbel pledged you to hide her shame,

making you cover the truth with a web of lies when there was

no shame to hide. None would have mocked her or cursed

her. What happened on the high wall of the Granite City was

beyond her power.'

 

'But I hid the truth,' Elionbel sobbed. 'I knew it was wrong,

but I loved Mother so. If only I had had the strength to break

the pledge none of this darkness would have happened,

Father would not have died, or Rubel . . .'

 

'Be easy, be easy,' Thoron whispered, feeling her tearstained

cheek against his aged chin. 'The pledge is now

broken, Elionbel, and we must fight our way to Thane's side

 

and warn him of this new Nightmare.'

 

There were footsteps and coarse laughing voices just

beyond the doorway. Tiethorm reached down and pulled the

dagger with both hands from Silverpurse's back then forced

it between his twisted fingers. Thoron gathered up a length

of chain from the floor, locked one end around his wrist and

gave the other to Elionbel. 'Around their Throats,' he

whispered. 'As I raise my arm, run around behind them and

pull the chain tight.'

 

The footsteps halted, the heavy doorhandle began to turn;

Thoron held his breath and raised the chain. Tiethorm

crouched beside him, the dagger ready.

 

'Yes, Master, yes, Master, I will tell them,' Pinchface

suddenly burst out, pushing Thoron away out of sight and

pulling the doorway open a hand's span. 'My Master says you

make too much noise and spoil his pleasure. Go! Go before

he flogs you both.'

 

Elionbel gave a scream and both shadowy Warriors

laughed. 'We bring news for Silverpurse, the Keeper of the

Underfall. There are more of those old trees at the edge of

the Causeway.'

 

'I will go and look at these ancient trees, Master,' Pinchface

called across his shoulder and he slipped through the doorway,

pulling it firmly shut behind him.

 

'King Holbian saw that grain of courage in the Loremaster

where the rest of us saw only treachery,' whispered Breakmaster,

slowly rising to his feet, an oiled cotton pressed

against his throat.

 

Thoron drew a deep breath and let the chain fall to his

side. He nodded and slowly opened the door.

 

'Yes,' muttered Tiethorm, gathering Merion up in his

arms, 'that is, if he doesn't sell our hides to the highest bidder

in the courtyard.'

 

'No, he will not sell us across the cobbles,' answered

Merion in a cracked whisper. 'I have watched the Loremaster

and seen his hatred of the Chancellor's son grow and blossom

in this shadowlight. He was once a good man destroyed by

his own weakness, now through this one act he has found

those strengths the Chancellors stole so long ago. He will

empty the courtyard of shadowy warriors and give us a clear

path on to the Greenway.'

 

'Follow me quickly,' urged Thoron, 'before the chance to

escape is lost.'

 

Tiethorm stood for a moment in the shadow of the great

doors of Underfall and felt Merion shiver in his arms at the

cold winter wind against his blackened blistered cheeks.

'There is snow in the air, pure white driven snow,' he

whispered, covering the healer's face with the tail of his

cloak.

 

Breakmaster and Elionbel crept silently forwards through

the doors. Suddenly a figure climbed out of the dyke waving

and beckoning to them. 'Hurry, hurry,' hissed the Loremaster, '

I have sent the shadow warriOrs to change the guard and

sharpen their axes. You have but moments to reach the safety

of the ancient trees.'

 

'What of the horses?' asked Breakmaster fearfully. 'Have

the shadow warriors killed them?'

 

'Down there. Down there beyond where Thunderstone

hangs, there between the first line of trees,' Pinchface

answered, pushing them out frantically on to the Causeway.

'I took them secretly from the stables, binding their feet with

rags to dull the clatter of their hooves and sent them out the

moment the guards' backs were turned. Now go, hurry, run

as fast as you can.'

 

'Come with us,' Elionbel urged, turning and grasping the

Loremaster's sleeve. 'Thane will forgive you everything and

shower you with honours for this daylight's work. Come.'

 

Pinchface took a step and hesitated. There were angry

voices and the thunder of armoured boots across the cobbles

in the courtyard behind them. 'No, my Queen,' he whispered,

reaching beneath his cloak for the secret bag of nightflower

seeds. He pulled it out and wove the age-stained string of the

pouch between her crippled fingers saying, 'This pouch has

a great power against the darkness, Elionbel. Give it to Thane

and beg him to forgive me for all those harsh daylights in the

Learning Hall. Tell him that the Loremaster is once more

strong and ready to defend the sunlight - tell him!' Turning

back, Pinchface began hobbling towards the doors. 'Tell him

to plant the seeds against the darkness,' he shouted, proudly

blocking the Causeway as the first shadowy warrior lowered

his spear and charged.

 

Beacon Light and Stumble neighed and cantered out

towards them. Beacon Light's head was twisted along her

flank and Stumble hobbled on twisted fetlocks. The shadow

warriors were almost upon them, the safety of the trees lay

less than a dozen paces away, arrows and spearblades were

striking sparks from the rough stone of the Causeway all

about them.

 

'Put me down and run without me,' gasped Merion, trying

to free himself from the Archer's arms.'

 

'No, you shall ride!' shouted Tiethorm as Beacon Light

drew level with him, slowing so that he could lay the Healer

across her back. The ancient trees seemed to sway and drift

apart as if pushed aside by a strong wind as they passed

between them. The branches began to writhe and weave

together above their heads creaking and groaning as they

dropped across the Greenway in gnarled impenetrable loops

and twists.

 

Thoron stopped, the breath rattling in his twisted throat

and turned, drawing the chain tight between his hands. He

could run no further but he would stand and fight and sing

of the sunlight. A voice laughed quietly in the branches above

his head. Thoron spun around, tripped and fell as he tried to

look up. A tall figure jumped stiffly to the ground and turned

to face the company.

 

'Thunderstone!' Elionbel cried with joy.

 

Thunderstone laughed again and hushed them into silence

then led them deeper amongst the ancient trees, telling them

how the ancient trees had saved his life, showing them the

white rope marks that had burned into his throat before the

trees had caught and held his head and shoulders in a net of

finely woven twigs until the shadowmaker, Kruel, had turned

away.

 

'But that body hanging from the tree?' interrupted Tiethorm. '

Who is that?'

Thunderstone laughed and drew a long black-bladed

dagger, pointing towards the shadow warriors on the Causeway

Road as he whispered how he had killed one of them

and hung him in his place.

 

'Look!' Elionbel cried, pointing back between two treetrunks

towards the sheer grey walls of Underfall. 'They have

overrun the Loremaster and are charging towards us with

long-handled axes in their shadowy hands.'

 

Thunderstone stood and watched the advancing shadows

for a moment. A slight shiver trembled his hands as he tilted

his head to one side and listened to the leaves whispering

overhead.

 

Turning back, he took Elionbel's hands into his own and

looked deeply into her eyes. 'These trees are a part of

Nevian's magic and carry news far across Elundium. They

saw you face Kruel and heard you shout your mother's secret

in the courtyard of Stumble Hill. Few would have had the

courage to keep such a pledge but now it is broken and we

must warn Thane before it is too late.'

 

'We are too late,' whispered Merion, turning his burned

ears towards the trees and listening to the tale of Thane's

great battle before the gates of the Granite City.

 

Elionbel looked up at the rustling leathery leaves that had

somehow defied the autumn and still clung on to the twisted

age-scarred branches. She frowned. 'I hear nothing but the

wind amongst those leaves,' she answered, brushing the tears

from her cheeks.

 

'There is little enough wind to bend the winter grasses but

still they talk, Elionbel,' he replied in a hushed whisper.

'They told me of your brother Rubel's escape from the

Tower at Stumble Hill and how he wallows in self-pity beside

a stagnant pool, and there are whisperings that Willow Leaf

 

has built a fortress on a Rising that stands alone high above

the shadows.' Thunderstone paused and looked up, his

eyebrows creased together. 'Come, we must hurry,' he urged,

'the Granite City is falling beneath the shadows.'

'The Greenway is the quickest road,' called Breakmaster,

dabbing at the wound on his throat as Thunderstone led

them deeper into the trees.

 

'The warriors with axes!' cried Elionbel, gathering Stumble's

reins and helping him along. 'They will harm the trees!'

 

Thunderstone laughed harshly and pointed back with his

dagger blade to where the first shadowy warrior had been

plucked off the Causeway Road and thrown high in the air.

'Fear not, Elionbel, the trees are like great warriors, they will

not be harmed.'

 

'Where are you taking us?' called Thoron, keeping pace

with the last Lampmaster of Elundium. 'This is not the road

to the Granite City.'

 

'I know not,' answered Thunderstone, 'but the trees will

lead us to Thane and to the last ray of sunlight to shine in

Elundium. Listen, it is in their whispering.'

 

Merion looked up from where Breakmaster had sat him

astride Beacon Light and tried to smile. The first snowflakes

were falling, brightening the shadowlight and cooling his

blistered cheeks, sizzling and melting as they touched his

face.

 

 

The City Falls

 

Kruel tightened his grip, blackening the daylight around the

Granite City. There was snow in the air, he could smell it

blizzarding its way across Elundium, weakening his shadowlight

beneath its thick white blanket.

 

'We cannot hold the outer wall, my Lord,' shouted Grey

Goose above the roar of the shadowy warriors and the

shrieking black rats that suddenly stormed against the city,

swarming in through every drain and gutter hole the masons

had not filled with stone choke. Crying with terror the

warriors stamped their armoured boots and swung their

swords at the black waves of shadow rats sweeping all around

them. Owls hooted and stooped out of the shadowy dark sky,

Border Runners growled and snarled, hurling the foul brittlespined

creatures high into the air, and again and again

Esteron and Equestrius led the crippled Warhorses through

the lower circles of the city, crushing and killing every shadow

on their path. But the tide of darkness was slowly rising,

forcing them backwards step by step, up through the inner

circles of the city towards the high walls that protected

Swanwater and Candlebane Hall.

 

Behind them in every alleyway and street the city folk were

screaming with terror. The black shadow rats had overrun

the great wall and they were amongst the people, biting their

heels and ankles, pulling them down on to the cold winter

cobbles, taking them into Kruel's growing darkness. Their

shouts against the shadowlight ceased as they became etched

with veins of darkness and swept up through the city beside

the shadow warriors. Gradually, silence spread through the

lower circle of the city, smoke billowed out unchecked from fireburned

houses and bright flames crackled in the darkness,

lighting up the shadowy shapes advancing through the ruins.

 

'The city folk, what has happened to the city folk?' Thane

asked, straining his ears against the silence and wiping a dirty

blood-soaked batle glove across his forehead.

 

'You cannot help them, my Lord,' answered Errant, trying to

find a better grip for his fingers on the hilt of his sword. 'Those

rats carry the bite of darkness in their jaws and only those that

show a blemish still love the sunlight.'

 

Thane turned sharply on the horseman and grasped one of

his twisted hands. 'So this is the sign of the darkness - this

crippled hand, the lame Warhorses and limping Border

Runners?'

 

'No, Lord,' cried Errant, proudly lifting-up his hand. 'This is

the sign of those that are true to you and of their love of the

sunlight. It shows that the darkness holds no power over

them; it is as bright a mark upon us as the tattooed owl in blue

and gold that Nevian traced upon the warriors' arms for King

Holbian.'

 

Thane laughed softly and embraced Errant. 'Then I shall

know you all and count you on the fingers of one hand. Look

about you, brave warrior, and see how many have been bitten

and survived.'

 

'The Warhorses and the Border Runners are with us. They

came unasked to help me reach the city and without them I

would have fallen beneath the shadows many leagues from

here.'

 

'Yes,' answered Thane, smiling gently at his friends. 'They

are bitten and cruelly crippled, and I weep to watch them limp

and make such easy targets in battle.'

 

'Lord, we must retreat into Candlebane Hall,' urged Grey

Goose. 'The shadows are closing in all about us.'

Thane held on to Errant's hand for a moment and looked

straight into his eyes. 'I love each and every one of you that

has suffered the darkness and survived.'

 

'We stand together, men and horses, dogs and owls,

together to fight against these shadows. Now hurry to the

top of the ramp and help marshal the Warhorses and the

Border Runners across the bridge into Candlebane Hall.'

 

Turning, Thane summoned Arrachatt to his side. 'This ramp,'

he asked, placing his armoured boot on the base, 'can you

remove it once we are safe on the wall above?'

 

Arrachatt frowned, rubbing his stone-pitted fingers across

his chin and bent down to examine Willow's handiwork. 'The

Tunnellers are Mastermasons, Lord, but even they leave

hairline flaws for the sharp-eyed to see. Give me half a daylight

and the ramp will be a pile of rubble scattered through the lower

circles of the city.'

 

'Too long, mason,' Thane snapped, his eye upon the

advancing shadows swallowing up the city. 'But the owls will

buy what time they can.'

 

Turning his head he called to Mulcade. 'I need time, great

Bird of War, time to get all those who love the sunlight into

 

Candlebane Hall.'

 

Mulcade flexed his talons, hooted and spread his wings. He

lifted up into the dark winter air and called to his stoops of

Batle Owls, drawing them into a dense cloud above

Candlebane Hall. The tightening circle of shadows slowed and

stopped as the shadow rats fought amongst Themselves to

find shelter from the owls.

 

'Find Kyot and Eventine,' Thane whispered as Rockspray

stooped to him. 'Tell them the City has fallen, and we are hard

pressed and desperate, siege-locked in Candlebane Hall.'

 

Rockspray spread his wings and lifted high into the cold

winter sky, circled the city once then vanished in the

gathering snow clouds.

 

Kruel had reached the second circle of the city. Everywhere

victory looked complete but above, silhouetted against

the fading daylight he saw the stonemason destroying the

ramp that led up to the Swanwater bridge. With a terrible

shout he drove the shadow rats on and the cry echoed in the

lower circles of the city, shattering stone and splintering wood

as it spread through the ruins towards Candlebane Hall. Fine

stone dust billowed out of the cracks Arrachatt had opened

in the ramp and his stone-searcher trembled in his hand.

 

'Lord, I am ready,' he shouted breathlessly as the last

Warhorse breasted the top of the ramp and made its way

across the bridge into Candlebane Hall.

 

Thane brushed his hand through Esteron's mane and

ordered the Archers to retreat up the ramp on either side of

him. Keeping pace with Esteron he ran to the top of the

ramp, turned and looked down. The shadow rats had grown

bold, driven on by the nightmare shout, and swarmed now at

the base of the ramp.

 

Arrachatt spat on his hands and drove the stone-searcher

point-deep into a broad crack he had fashioned between the

ramp and the sheer wall encircling Candlebane Hall. 'Now,

Lord?' he asked with an edge of uncertainty in his voice.

 

Thane stepped back and raised his hand. 'No, wait!' he

cried, bending forwards and catching a glimpse of a dark

fleeing figure running through the swarm of rats, treading on

them in his haste to reach the ramp. With one last bound he

leapt on to the ramp. He turned as he landed and used the

flat of his sword to sweep the nightmare shadows from the

rising cobbles, forcing them back into the city below. Turning

again in a flurry of cloak tails the figure raced up the ramp,

casting off his foul ratskins as he ran, letting the colours of

his cloak stream out in the shadowlight. Nevian ran up the

steep cobblestones without a backward glance, glad to be rid

of the ratskin cloak yet thankful it had hidden him so well as

he slipped under the Stumble Gate and ran from alleyway to

alleyway in his race through the City. None had noticed him

but he had heard much and learned many secrets with each

hurried footstep.

 

'Nevian!' Thane shouted with delight, grasping the magician's

hands and pulling him clear of the swaying, crumbling

ramp.

 

Arrachatt put his weight behind the stone-searcher and

jumped clear of the ramp just as it drifted away from the wall.

Slowly at first, puffs of stone dust hissed from the widening

crack, a moment's pause and the ramp began to settle, roaring

and rumbling as it collapsed in an avalanche of stones on the

swarms of shadow rats below.

 

Thane began to laugh but Nevian turned him with a firm

hand and pointed out into the shadowlight, making him look

at the black flags hanging and fluttering from every hill and

mound, every fence and field for as far as he could see.

 

Nevian shivered and pulled the rainbow cloak tightly about

his shoulders, wrinkling his nose against the foul smell of the

ratskins that had filtered into the fabric of the cloth. 'I

guessed at new shadows, fearing that something threatened

the sunlight, but it is far far worse than ever I thought.'

 

'Lord, Lord,' cried Grey Goose, cutting across Nevian's

words and pulling desperately at Thane's sleeve. 'The black

rats are swarming up the other side of the wall. Even with the

owls' help we cannot drive them back.'

 

Thane looked from his Captain Archer to the Master of

Magic and threw his hands up helplessly. 'What can I do but

wear my sword-arm numb against these shadows?' he

shouted, the flat of his bloody blade sweeping against the

shadowlight as he turned to run to where the Archers fought

amongst the rats.

 

'Retreat,' answered Nevian in a firm voice, calling him

back. 'Retreat across the bridge that spans the deep waters of

Swanwater and seek refuge in Candlebane Hall. Here upon

the high rim of the City you have but a moment before the

darkness overwhelms you but within the strong walls of

Candlebane Hall with the deep water between you and this

new Nightmare you will be safe.'

 

Thane ran across the bridge and entered the Candle Hall,

pausing to wait for the Master of Magic. Nevian hurried to

Thane's side and linked arms with him as they walked slowly

to the high throne, telling him with each step they took all

that had come to pass and been kept a secret since he had

entered the City of night driven his sword through

Krulshards' black heart.

 

Thane sank heavily on to the first step of the dais and

reached out for the armrest of the throne to steady himself,

his knuckles turning white as he gripped the smooth stone.

He saw how little Elion had trusted him and how she had

carried that dark secret all on her own. 'But where is she

now? What has that creature done with her?' he cried

desperately, burying his head in his arms.

 

Nevian could have wept with him but he shook his arm.

'Tears must come later. Now we must find a way to fight

against this new Nightmare, Kruel.'

 

'Soon there will be nothing left of the sunlight,' Thane

shouted as he strode through the doors of Candlebane Hall

and turned to watch helplessly as Arrachatt broke the span of

the bridge and raced back towards them across the falling

masonry.

 

'Now we are an island in this sea of darkness,' he said

quietly.

 

Turning away from the dark rippling waters that had

swallowed up the broken bridge he stared at the empty throne

set on the high dais at the far end of the Candle Hall, and

slowly lifted his head, seeing clearly now why Martbel had

looked so shrivelled and wasted in the City of night, why

there had been a shadow between him and Elionbel. Rising,

he drew his sword. 'How can I fight against him? How can I

destroy this Kruel? His darkness has crippled and distorted

everything that loves the light, why even the trees that you

filled with magic lie broken beside the Greenways' edge. Has

all Elundium fallen beneath his shadowlight? What of Kyot?

What of Thunderstone? What of the Warriors from the battle

crescents I sent home?' Thane's voice trailed into silence as

he remembered the Lampmaster's horse galloping to them

on the Greenway.

 

Nevian nodded his head slowly. 'Everytthing as far as the

eye can see is covered by shadowlight. This Kruel is both

man and beast and thus is a mightier Nightmare than

Krulshards, the one who spawned him. He is so powerful,

Rubel says, that he can deny the sun a shadow.'

 

'Shadowless!' muttered Thane. 'Then what hope do you

bring us? What light or wise counsel have you to help us

against this new Nightmare? I have crippled horses, lame

Border Runners and just enough Warriors to count on both

hands.'

 

'Lord, come quickly,' cried Errant in terror, stumbling

backwards away from the Candle doors as a chilling voice

called out Thane's name, laughing, mocking and cracking

the tall slender crystal candle-stems as it flooded into Candlebane

Hall.

 

'Thanehand! Galloperspawn! I have come for you!' it

mocked from scant wind-driven whispers to bone-shattering

shouts that drove the Warhorses into panic, sending them

rearing and plunging against each other in the crowded hall.

Border Runners growled and snarled, their fangs bared bright

white in the shadowlight and stoops of owls rose up to scatter

amongst the tallow-blackened rafters. Thane jumped to his

feet and fought his way through the rising panic to the brink

of the broad steps leading down into the deep water.

 

'I know your name, Kruel, the Master of Nothing, the one

who hides in the dark,' he shouted, searching the rim of the

wall.

 

'Take care, Thane,' Nevian whispered from the shadow of

the Candle door at his elbow. 'Do not show yourself as too

easy a target.'

 

The pitiless voice laughed again yet Thane could not see

where it came from as it sent broken ripples across the deep,

still waters that ringed the Candle Hall.

 

'Yes, I am Kruel,' it soothed, letting the words flow up

over the broad steps and swirl around Thane's feet. 'Kruel,

the Master of all this darkness that has swallowed the light

and I am the rightful Lord of all Elundium!'

 

Thane took a deep breath, gathered what little courage he

had left and bravely faced the empty rim of the wall saying,

'You are only a robber, a stealer of what belongs to others,

who has crept like a thief through this darkness, taking by

force what does not belong to you.'

 

Kruel snarled with rage and rose above the rim of the wall

to hurl a dagger across Swanwater, driving the blade a hand's

span deep into the Candle door beside Thane's head.

 

'I come as I please,' he hissed, 'and I claim what Krulshards,

my father, took as he swept across Elundium. Now it

is all mine, mine do you hear? And you, foul Galloperspawn,

shall pay for that sword-thrust you pierced through my

father's heart, for you shall hang beside him in the City of

Night and curse the day that Kruel crawled from the

Marcherwoman's belly to avenge his death!'

 

Thane held his breath and stared at the tall figure that had

arisen above the rim of the wall, seeing Krulshards in the

dead locks of frost-white hair streaming out and seeming to

glow in the shadowlight, and the pale pitiless eyes that bore

into him probing and searching for all his weaknesses. But in

the shape of the mouth and the smooth perfect teeth there

was a little of Martbel - he was just as Nevian had described

him, both man and beast.

 

'I could take you now,' Kruel mocked stretching out his

hand across the water, 'for there is no power strong enough

in all Elundium to stop me; no, not even you, Thanehand,

can lift a finger against me!'

 

Laughing, Kruel closed his hand on the sharp edge of

Thane's sword and melted the blade between his fingertips.

'Nothing can stop my darkness,' he laughed, sneering as he

dropped the severed length of steel in a bubbling froth of

steam into the icy depths of Swanwater.

 

Thane cried out as the hilt glowed dull red in his hand and

he hurled it with all his strength across the water only to see

it fall well short of the wall and drop hissing into the deep

lake. 'Why do you wait and taunt me with words if you can

take me so easily?' Thane shouted, shaking his blistered

fingers in hopeless anger at Kruel.

 

'Hush!' whispered Nevian, pulling at the King's sleeve.

'Do not goad the Nightmare or show him all our weaknesses.'

 

'Use some magic! Strike him down with a bolt of fire, a ray

of sunlight, anything!' hissed Thane, stepping back into the

shadows of the doorway.

 

'What magic strengths I have belonged to the time of the

Granite Kings. you are now the greatest strength in Elundium,

the first man-King and champion of the sunlight.'

 

'But I have no strength against Kruel,' hissed Thane in

despair, turning back to stare at the Nightmare figure on the

wall.

 

Kruel laughed and shouted in triumph, splintering the

doorposts of Candlebane Hall and pulled up beside him on

to the rim of the wall a black armoured warrior with a heavy

sack across his shoulder. Lifting a hand, Kruel pointed a long

slender finger at Arbel and pushed him forwards to the edge

of the wall. 'Look carefully, Thanehand, at my Marcher

Captain and first warrior, for he is my blood brother Arbel!'

Sneering with delight he tapped the smooth black polished

armour that followed every groove and swelling ridge of

muscle on Arbel's body and laughed again. 'Once you could

 

have matched him blade for blade, but now Arbel is clothed

in Nightshards' armour taken from the City of Night and

nothing can harm him.'

 

Arbel sneered across the dark waters at Thane, his black

shiny cheeks crackling as the armour rippled. He lifted the

sack off his shoulder high above his head. 'I followed you,

Thanehand,' he shouted. 'After you had left our Wayhouse I

stabbed Rubel-and followed you, but the Nightbeasts caught

me before I could plunge the dagger through your rotten

heart!'

 

'Why?' cried Thane in dismay and disbelief. 'I was running

on Krulshards' heels to try and rescue your sister Elionbel.'

 

Arbel snarled savagely and hurled the sack, spinning it

high across Swanwater. 'Because I love the darkness, and I

hate your sunlight!" he spat out as the bundle crushed against

the Candle doors and came to rest at Thane's feet.

 

Thane stared for a moment at Arbel in dumb silence and

then slowly knelt to unwind the edges of the damp rough

hemp sacking. 'Take care, my Lord,' cried Errant as Thane

lifted and tipped the sack.

 

Kruel shrieked with delight as twisted hands and feet

roughly severed at the wrists and ankles tumbled out across

the broad stone steps. Thane cried in horror and staggered

backwards, tripping and falling heavily against the Candle

doors.

 

'You had one strength, Thanehand,' sneered Arbel, tossing

a severed hand to Kerzolde who had climbed up on to the

wall and now squatted beside him. 'One little thing that my

brother Kruel had missed on our triumphant sweep across

Elundium.

 

Thane stared open-mouthed from Arbel to Kruel. What

had been a strength? They had been defeated and chased up

through the ruins of the City, they had been driven before

the darkness as dust before a broom.

 

'It was only a little thing, Thanehand,' whispered Kruel,

pointing at the heap of severed hands and feet, 'but now I

know by the crippled warriors and Warhorses that fight at

your side that any who are left are blemished after my shadow

rats have bitten them and they hate my darkness. When all

the city folk who show a blemish are dead and piled high

along this wall then, Thanehand, I will come for you. Then I

will walk across the water and my darkness will be complete.'

 

'No!' shouted Thane, taking a step forwards. 'Leave the

city folk unharmed. There are people amongst them who

were blemished with misfortune long before you spread your

darkness through Elundium. Let them be and I will come to

you. I will surrender.'

 

But Kruel and Arbel had gone, vanishing in an echo of

laughter, only Kerzolde sat leering on the high rim of the

wall, gnawing on the severed hand.

 

'Grey Goose, your best arrow,' whispered Thane through

clenched teeth, beckoning to his Captain Archer. Grey Goose

ran down the broad steps passing his fingertips over his

quiver and he chose the finest new-forged steel-bladed arrow.

Whetting the blade he nocked it on to tHe bow.

 

'Shall I aim at his heart or put the arrow through his

throat?' he asked in a hushed whisper.

 

'No!' hissed Nevian, touching the Archer's arm. 'Save

every spine and do nothing to anger or enrage this Kruel.

Come, retreat into the Candle Hall where the nightbeast

cannot see us.'

 

Kerzolde cackled with delight and danced along the rim of

the wall as he watched Thane retreat into Candlebane Hall.

 

'What now? What can I do against tHis Nightmare?' he

shouted, turning desperately on the magician and clutching

on to tHe coloured folds of the rainbow cloak. 'How can I

fight against this Kruel?'

 

The Candle Hall fell silent and every breath was held, all

eyes turned towards the Master of Magic. Nevian looked up

and smiled, gathering his cloak tightly about his shoulders.

 

'For the moment we are safe here in Candlebane Hall.

The shadow rats cannot get to us, their spines are too brittle

to keep tHem afloat and Kruel will not attack until he has

searched every warrior and all the city folk he can find. Now

we must find a way to escape from this City before he

returns.'

 

'Lord, we are not trapped,' ventured Arrachatt the Mason,

stepping hesitantly into the clear space before the King.

 

'There are no secret ways, mason. You forget the Granite

King is dead,' Thane muttered, turning his back towards the

Candle doors and raising his hand to dismiss the stonemason.

 

Nevian smiled and checked Thane then pushed the mason

before him saying, 'Every man may have some wisdom to

offer to his King for it is not only magicians who pull on the

strings of fate. Listen to what the mason has to tell us.'

 

And silence spread across the Candle Hall as Arrachatt

told them of the two key stones, one set upon the other well

below the waterline that acted as a fountain, sending a steady

flow of water down through the City to the Stumble Gate.

Willow Leaf had set these two stones back to front and only

the mortar held them in place. If they could be loosened then

the whole wall would collapse and the great lake would flood

down, smashing its way through the City, killing the shadow

warriors and drowning the shadow rats.

 

'We could ride the water!' shouted Nevian, grasping the

Mason's calloused hands and dancing him in a tight circle.

 

Thane laughed and slapped the mason firmly on his back.

 

'But . . .' Arrachatt cried, breaking free, 'but the key stones

are well below the water and I am not quite sure how to reach

them with my stone-searcher.'

 

Nevian frowned and came to a stumbling halt, releasing

his hold on the mason's hands. Thane felt the laughter die

on his lips and he slowly turned to follow in Nevian's footsteps

out on to the broad steps that edged Swanwater. Shivering

and drawing his cloak about his shoulders as the first

snowflakes brushed against his cheeks he said, 'Where would

I go, Nevian? If there was a way to escape from the Candle

Hall, where would I go?'

 

Nevian laughed quietly and drew Thane to him. 'Fate

chose you well, Thanehand: you are a good guardian of the

sunlight. If there is a way to flood the city and escape beyond

these high walls we must follow the ancient trees for they are

pledged to help you and they know of the road leading to a

place that rises far above the shadows.'

'If we escape, Kruel will follow us, I know it, but how can

I fight against him?'

 

Nevian smiled and placed his lips close to Thane's ear

then told him of Rubel's great race to the City of Night to

fetch the sword that pierced Krulshards' heart.

 

'Rubel!' cried Thane in dismay. 'But he cursed me before

vanishing into the grasslands. Was there none other . . .'

 

'Hush!' hissed Nevian, clamping his hand to the King's

mouth. 'Need drove me hard and there were no others to

send. Rubel has much to hate this Nightmare for and,

remember, through Elionbel his thread is woven closely into

yours. Now think no more of it lest Kruel sees it in your

mind; drink only of escape and the road ahead.'

 

Thane nodded and stared out into the black shadows cast

by the fallen tower that rose as a jumble of dressed stone in

the centre of the lake. Nevian followed his gaze and saw

ghost-white shapes riding on the water close beneath the

largest overhanging blocks of stone. 'The swans!' he whispered. '

I thought they had fled the city as the darkness closed

about us.'

 

Thane smiled and called gendy across the waters, stretching

out his hands to the grey swans of doom. Ogion spread

 

his wings and beat the water into a white foam then setded

quiedy to listen as Thane knelt between them and whispered

of their need to escape from the Granite City.

 

Thane rose and took the magician's arm. 'It is settled.

Arrachatt can ride upon the Lord of Swans to the place

where the key stones are set into the wall. Now all you have

to do, Master of Magic, is dangle him in the cold dark waters

and let him chip away at the binding mortar without drowning

him and freezing him to death!'

 

Nevian thought for a moment, his heavy eyebrows creased

into a thousand frowns. 'Yes ...' he began when a cry of

terror cut through the shadowlight. It rose in chin echoes

from She lower circles of the City.

 

'We must hurry!' shouted Nevian vanishing into the

 

305

 

Candle Hall in a flurry of cloak tails. The slaughter of the

city folk had begun.

 

Running backwards and forwards across the smooth polished

floor Nevian marshalled the Warhorses. He shouted

for Angishand, Thane's mother, to use her weaver's fingers

and knot them a slender rope, then he gathered the Archers

into a tall tottering pyramid to join the slender candle-stems

with hot tallow from the wax channels around the throne,

while with a strong hand, now sure of its purpose, he stripped

the mason bare and dipped him three rimes into a vat of

cooling candle wax.

 

'Shout as much as you like, Mastermason, but you cannot

drown out the screams of slaughter from the City-below,'

grumbled Nevian as the warm wax splashed up across the

hem of the rainbow cloak.

 

Errant laughed and lifted the drying mason then set him

gently astride Ogion's feathery back. 'Sit still, you will not

freeze to death beneath this coat of wax.'

 

'Nor drown,' marvelled Grey Goose, slipping the end of

the hollow candle-stem into the mason's open mouth and

cutting short his stuttering protest as he sealed Arrachatt's

lips on to the fine crystal with a layer of cooling wax.

 

Nevian placed the mason's stone-searcher into his hands

and pressed his stiffening fingers around the handle then

heft down beside Ogion on the lowest stone step, the cold

water lapping against his fingertips. 'Take care,' he whispered,

knotting the slender woven rope around Arrachatt's

waist and looking up into the snow-driven wind to where a

stoop of Battle Owls fought to keep the candle-stems Arrachatt

would use to breathe from crashing against the wall of

Candlebane Hall. 'Find the hollow grooves Willow used to

haul the blocks of stone up through the city and thread the

rope between them; the Warhorses have the other end of the

rope tied between them. Once the key stones give the slightest

sign of moving drop the searcher and kick for the surface.

 

306

 

Ogion and Ousious will be waiting to bring you back to these

steps.'

 

Thane knelt beside the magician and closed his hand

around the cold stiff layer of wax coating the mason's fingers.

'All Elundium will hold its breath for you, Arrachatt, and

shout your praises in the sunlight when this daylight's work

is over.'

 

Arrachatt tried to turn and answer the King but the layers

of wax had hardened in the bitter wind and Ogion had moved

away from the steps and was taking him into the darkest

shadows beneath the sheer wall that encircled Candlebane

Hall. They were moving silently through the ranks of grey

swans. His teeth chattered against the crystal candle-stems

and his hands shook on the handle of the stone-searcher.

Soon his legs bumped against rough hard stone and he knew

he had reached the wall. Ogion flapped his wings, half-stood

in the water and Arrachatt slipped backwards in a splash of

bubbles then sank beneath the cold black waters. Down,

down, he sank, taking the knotted rope with him, the crystal

candle-stem twisted and tried to turn in his mouth but he

clamped it between his teeth. The stone-searcher grated

against the wall, slipping in his fingers. His feet touched the

slippery weed-covered cobblestones; he had reached the

bottom of the lake and began fumbling blindly along the wall.

Two paces to the left, two paces to the right, he scratched his

fingernails across the rough stone, searching, feeling for those

tell-tale grooves he knew must be there. His fingers caught

on something, a hard edge, the beginnings of a groove.

Carefully he dug with the point of his searcher, clearing the

silt and weeds from the groove, and threading the rope little

by little between the stones. The layers of wax were crazing

into thousands of spider-fine cracks, the water was seeping

in, chilling his bones, his hands were numb and burning with

the cold. He knotted the rope, drew a deep breath through

the candle-stem and struck with all his strength at the mortar

around the key stones, twisting as the searcher struck. He

slipped off the cobbles and fell, breaking the seal that held

the candle-stem between his teeth. Icy waters flooded into

his mouth, he choked, flung his weight against the metal

spike and kicked for the surface. The owls hooted and let the

broken candle-stems fall into the black water then they flew

back to the Candle Hall.

Arrachatt broke the surface, spluttering and coughing. 'I

have not finished yet,' he gasped, shaking off the swans and

treading water while he took deep breaths. Five times he

dived and five times he found the stone-searcher and drove

it into the mortar between the key stones. Exhausted and

numb with cold his feet touched the cold slippery cobbles for

the sixth time and he felt for the stone-searcher where he

had left it wedged in the groove of the key stone. But it had

gone, fallen out of the widening crack between the stones.

Arrachatt put his hand against the key stones and felt the

escaping water suck against it. Kicking frantically, he

reached the surface and let the swan carry him to the brink

of the broad steps.

 

'It is done, my Lord,' he gasped as Grey Goose bundled

him in warm clothing and took him into the warmth of

Candlebane Hall.

 

Warhorse hooves skidded and clattered across the stone

floor sending up bright fountains of sparks as they fought to

hold the key stones on the knotted rope.

 

'We have but moments,' cried Nevian.

 

'How will we stay together and ride the flood down through

the city?' asked Thane, jumping high into the air to avoid the

knotted rope as it drew as tight as a bow string between the

Warhorses and the two key stones now loosened in the wall.

 

'Wind this thread between us,' called Angishand, holding

up a bundle of glittering thread in her hands.

 

Nevian laughed and swept Thane's mother off her feet

saying, 'You are a blessing to us all.'

 

'It is nothing, Lord,' she answered, blushing. 'Nothing but

the rag-end threads that were left over after I had finished

weaving the summer scarf.'

'That is more than enough, great lady, for it will light our

way through the shadowlight. Thread each animal together,'

cried Nevian, running through the Candle Hall, and joining

each Warhorse and Border Runner to the knotted rope.

 

'Errant, Grey Goose - quickly, settle the Archers and the

warriors on the soundest Warhorses, tie yourselves as tightly

as possible on to them. Duclos, Duclos - where is the deaf

swordsman, Morolda?'

 

'We are here, Nevian,' Morolda shouted back, 'and Angishand

is with us.'

 

Thane ran out through the Candle doors and on to the

broad steps. Swanwater was swirling angrily, twisting and

turning in dark eddies, pushing itself against the key stones.

'Fly, fly,' he urged, kneeling between Ogion and Ousious on

the lowest step.

 

Ousious brushed her beak against Thane's cheek and

descended into the swirling waters. Ogion followed her and

together they led the grey swans of doom to beat a path

across Swanwater and rise up into the darkening shadowlight.

 

'We will meet again!' called Thane, raising his hand.

 

The knotted rope sang and shrieked,.the fibres twisting

together, spraying fine beads of cold water across the steps.

It was shredding, only moments from breaking. Thane

turned, raced up the steps and leapt on to Esteron's back.

Nevian leaned across from Equestrius and wound the end of

the glittering thread around Thane's waist and tied it firmly.

 

'Now, my Lord, we are truly in the hands of Fate,' he cried

as the knotted rope snapped.

 

Thane quickly glanced behind him in the moment of

silence that followed the breaking of the rope. The Border

Runners were tied, crouching on the Warhorse's haunches,

the Archers were sitting straight-backed with arrows readynocked

upon their bow strings, the warriors were ready with

spears and swords; everyone in the crowded gathering was

drawn rigid together as if holding their breaths.

'Run, gallop,' shouted Nevian, urging Equestrius forwards.

'We must ride on the first surge of water.'

 

Thane turned to shout something as they descended the

broad steps and swam out in Swanwater but his voice was

lost in the thunder of falling masonry and the roar of the

water as the wall burst apart and swept them down into the

City below on a high crest of foam.

 

High above the ruined roofs and broken windows, they

rode the crest of white-plumed water. Border Runners

snarled and snapped at the black shadow rats washed up

against them, and Grey Goose and his Archers loosed their

arrows out of the water, felling startled shadow warriors as

they surged past. Then they were gone, swept on downwards

faster and faster in the thundering wave of water towards the

Stumble Gate.

 

'The gates are open!' shouted Thane, letting the standard

of the sun ripple out taut behind them, but none heard his

shout nor cared as they crowded together, clinging on to one

another as they were swept beneath the high-arched gate, out

on to the beginnings of the Greenway.

 

'The trees! Run for the trees!' urged Nevian as Equestrius'

feet touched firm ground and he stumbled forwards.

 

Behind them a screaming shout of rage filled the Granite

City spiralling slowly up through every level until it burst out

through the roof of Candlebane Hall. Thane turned his head

and watched sadly as the weather-bleached tiles and tallowblackened

rafters of the hall collapsed on to the smoothpolished

marble floor below in a thundering shower of brittle

splinters.

 

'The trees! Make for the trees!' Nevian shouted again,

pulling hard at Thane's sleeve. 'There is no time to stand

and watch the destruction! Kruel will be hard on our heels

before the waters have drained away.'

 

 

The Shadowlight Deepens

 

The darkness had spread far across the grasslands tightening

its grip as the winter took hold. It smothered the daylights

with its silent terror. Shivering with cold, Eventine knelt in

the long grass on the edges of Clatterford and watched a tall

column of black smoke curl up to vanish into the shadowlight.

Faintly she could hear shouts and the ring of steel.

 

'We come too late,' Kyot muttered, clumsily kneeling down

beside her, trying to turn the Bow of Orm between his twisted

fingers and keep it from snagging or getting wet in the coarse

winter grasses.

 

'There is fighting. Listen to the peacocks scream. Quickly,

the House of Clatterford has not fallen yet,' she cried, leaping

to her feet, but her voice trailed miserably into silence as she

swept her eyes across the Warhorses and lame Border

Runners in the long grass behind her.

 

'Father, oh Father,' she wept, clenching her crippled hand

in frustration.

 

Tanglecrown roared out and Sprint neighed fiercely, and

the little relay horse with his twisted forelegs held securely in

Tanglecrown's huge stand of antlers moved through the long

grass to where Eventine stood. Kyot stared at the Lord of

Stags and saw the beginnings of an idea. Quickly he climbed

to his feet and caressed Sprint's muzzle then whispered to

Tanglecrown, putting his hand boldly in amongst the razorsharp

antlers.

 

Tanglecrown roared and carefully bent his forelegs. Kyot

turned to Eventine and pulled at her sleeve. 'There is a way

that we can ride to Clatterford and let the Bow of Orm sing

out against these foul shadows - if I sit upon Sprint and hold

the Bow of Orm, and you sit upon Tanglecrown and link

your arms through mine. You take each arrow from the

quiver and nock it on to the bow . . .'

 

Eventine looked closely at the Lord of Stags and laughed.

Yes, it was a brilliant idea, they would fight against the

darkness, it might just work. 'Would you carry us?' she asked

quickly. Tanglecrown roared in answer and Sprint snorted,

the light of battle in his eyes.

 

Eventine sprang up on to Tanglecrown's back and reached

across to unclip Kyot's quiver then hung it beside her own.

'You must hold the bow rock-steady,' she whispered, linking

her arms tenderly through his.

 

Tanglecrown and Sprint, as one, sprang forwards into the

dark shadows of the tall yew trees growing beside the ford.

White water foamed and splashed about their feet; they were

quickly across and on to the steep banks of the lawns. Orgas

led the stags with the Warhorses and Border Runners a pace

behind in a rush of hoofbeats on to the lawns of Clatterford.

 

Twice the Bow of Orm sang out felling two shadowy

warriors crouching over a body closely wrapped in a cloak of

sky-washed blue that lay sprawled upon the steps of the

house. 'Father, Father,' Eventine cried, letting the third steeltipped

bladed arrowshaft slip from her fingers as she jumped

to the ground and ran to where he lay.

 

'Eventine, beware, there are more shadow warriors,' Kyot

shouted in warning as he struggled to dismount but Orgas

had heard his cry and charged, antlers lowered, across the

battle-strewn lawn. He reached the crystal steps and leapt

high

over Eventine in the shadowlight as she knelt and

gathered her father's body up into her arms.

 

'Father, oh Father,' she whispered, rocking him slowly

backwards and forwards, deaf to the thunder of hoofbeats

that closed protectively all around her and the crash of antler

horns as Orgas cleared the house of Clatterford of Kruel's

shadow warriors.

 

Slowly Fairday blinked then opened his eyes and smiled

up at her, calling her name falteringly. 'My ray of sunlight,

my joy and treasure, I knew you would come to me, daughter,

I knew.'

 

'Rest, Father,' she answered, bending close to his bloodwet

lips to catch each word and letting her unchecked tears

splash in a silver rain of grief on to the collar of his cloak,

turning the colour to deep indigo.

 

'There is only one arrowblade they did not find, my child.

Use it well against the darkness,' he whispered. His words

were getting slower, his head was sinking in her arms. 'One

arrowblade, beneath my cloak .

 

'Father!' she cried, her voice full of despair as she gathered

him closer, but with one last gentle sigh he was gone, his

cloak of sky-washed blue billowed open and there, clutched

tightly in his fingers, kept safe from the darkness was the last

glass arrowblade of Clatterford, sparkling bright with all the

glories of the summer sun.

 

'No! Do not touch it,' Eventine cried, pushing Kyot's hand

away from the glass blade as he reached forwards to take it

from her father's hand. 'You are the Bow and I am the

striker, the Arrowmaiden. I did not see it until the moment

Father died.'

 

Eventine fell silent, her body shaking with grief as she

carefully unclasped Fairday's fingers from the arrowshaft and

slipped it into her quiver.

 

'See what?' asked Kyot gently.

 

Eventine smiled at him through her tears and took his

 

hand. 'I thought the legends about the great Bows of

Clatterford and Orm were over when mine was destroyed in

the courtyard of Stumble Hill. I thought we were helpless no,

powerless - to fight against this new darkness, but

mounted together with the last glass arrowblade on my hand

and the great Bow of Orm in yours we can hunt that foul

Nightmare and drive an arrow strike through his black heart.

But first I must ring my father's body with crystal-tipped

spears then we .. .' She stopped and stared out across the

desolate ruined lawns, straining her eyes, watching something

moving towards them. 'Kyot, look!' she hissed, making him

spin around.

 

Kyot blinked and raised the Bow of Orm, a shout of joy on

his lips, for flying low across the wild grassland was Rockspray,

the Battle Owl. 'He will be our eyes and lead us

through this shadowlight, he will find us a path!' Kyot shouted

as the owl stooped to his shoulder.

 

Rubel passed silently through the shadowlight, following all-the

secret roads and long forgotten paths that he had found on his

wanderings. Climbing without rest amongst the ancient trees

that had spread themselves up the towering shoulders of

Mantern's Mountain he reached the summit. Now he paused

for breath, crouching and searching the barren shale-strewn

slopes before he slipped down, unheard and unseen, through

the broken dome of the high chamber in the City of Night.

Landing quietly on the balls of his feet he carefully searched

the shadows. He shivered as he rubbed his numb fingers

together, cursing the ratskins' brittle spines as they snagged

and tore his forearms. A dozen shadow rats scavenged amongst

the nightshards' carcasses and weed worms, curled against the

cold, hung in small clusters from the lower edges of the rough

dome ceiling. There were no shadow warriors or black carrion

crows to shout a warning; the chamber was bleak and seemed

empty but for the refuse of battle.

 

'I must find the sword,' he muttered, forcing himself to

creep towards the tall column of rock that stood alone in the

centre of the chamber. The closer he came the more the

darkness seemed to close about him. Now he could see the

outline of Krulshards, the Master of Darkness, the ragged

strips of hanging flesh, the bone-black fingers locked around

the blade of Thane's sword. Something moved, billowing,

 

reaching out. Rubel cried out in terror, strangling the shout

in his throat as the ragged strip of the black malice settled

back across the spark-scarred blade piercing Krulshards'

heart. Rubel looked fearfully around him; nothing had heard

his cry, the shadow rats were still busy, undisturbed, burrowing

through the Nightshards' armour.

 

'I must take the sword,' he hissed, clenching his teeth and

crawling forwards again.

 

He saw the hilt with its smooth bright metal catching and

reflecting what little light shone down into the high chamber

through the broken roof. Rubel felt blindly for the hilt,

knowing that he dare not look up into Krulshards' nightmare

face lest it drive him out. His fingers touched the hilt, he

breathed a sigh of relief and closed his hands about it.

 

'Nevian give me strength!' he gasped, leaning backwards,

pulling with all his strength, knotting his muscles with the

effort, cramping his fingers as they locked on to the hilt. The

blood pounded in his ears, he felt dizzy and light-headed, his

fingers were slipping off the smooth metal. He staggered and

overbalanced, falling heavily on to the chamber floor. Cursing,

he knelt and waited for the roaring in his ears to fade.

He turned his head and listened to the sharp scraping of the

shadow rats amongst the Nightshards. The sword had not

moved, it was stuck fast, fused into the column of rock.

Slowly he rose and closed his hand on the hilt for a second

time and thought about his mother and how she had suffered

at Krulshards' hands. He could feel those cruel blind eyes

boring down into him and could almost see that skinless

snarling mouth. Shuddering, he locked his hands on the hilt

and snapped back his head then stared full into Krulshards'

face.

 

'Curse you! Curse you!' he shouted, throwing stealth and

caution to the winds, letting the hatred and the anger boil up

and feed him with new strength as he fought to pull the

sword upwards.

 

He put his shoulder beneath the hilt, sideways, downwards,

twisting and turning, but nothing he tried would ease the

blade. Lashing out in blind anger Rubel kicked at Krulshards'

legs, smashing his shin, trampling on his toes and tearing his

bone-black fingers away from the blade of the sword, but all

his anger did was warn the shadow rats and send them

swarming across the floor.

 

Rubel cursed silently and stood rigid, letting the foul rats

crawl up his legs and over his hands and face, sniffing and

scenting. The weed worms twisted and turned, rattling their

armoured bodies together and then hung silently from the rough

dome. The rats ran briefly in circles and returned to

feasting inside the Nightshards' carcasses. Rubel breathed a

sigh of relief and placed his hands back on the hilt. Muttering,

he closed his fingers, if only the metal were rougher, if only

he could get a better purchase.

 

'The black cloth! If I bound that carefully around the hilt,

yes, the malice!' he whispered, tearing away the strip of

malice Kruel had left.

 

He wound it tightly around the blade and the hilt. 'Now!'

he whispered, setting his feet apart and grasping the hilt with

both hands. He took a deep breath, screwed his eyes tightly

shut and pulled. The fabric of the malice felt icy cold and hid

his hands in blackest shadows but the sword moved a fraction,

grating in the rock. The malice unwound in folds of darkness

along the blade and slipped between his fingers. Cursing,

Rubel fell backwards and lay for long moments on the

chamber floor gathering his strength. The sword had moved,

he had felt it, if only the black malice had stayed wound on

to the blade, if ... Rubel sat up and thought, searching in

every corner of his mind, and then he remembered the

thread: the magician had said to use the thread from the

rainbow cloak that was tied around his wrist. In the darkness

he bent forwards and peeled back the rat skin that hid

Nevian's gift then unwound the rainbow thread. Binding the

strip of malice about the hilt and winding it firmly along the

blade for as long as it would reach, Rubel wound the rainbow

thread around the shadow cloth about a hand's span from the

hilt and tied it tightly. The thread sparkled and shone with

soft light in the darkness, the shadow rats stopped tHeir

scavenging and left the Nightshards' carcasses and began

moving uneasily towards him across the chamber floor.

 

Rubel steadied himself, flexed his arms, and gripped the

hilt once more, burying his hands deep in the shadows of the

malice. Now was the moment, now or never. He licked his

lips and pulled, his shoulders bulged, the muscles knotting,

 

 his back arched with the effort. 'By all your power, Nevian,'

he shouted as the rainbow thread blazed with colour, fizzing

and sparkling, lighting the high-domed chamber with pure

 white fire.

 

The sword was moving, he had pulled it free! The shadow

rats were shrieking and screaming, tHeir hideous shadows

leaping and soaring up across the lighted dome. Rubel turned

and fled, crossing the chamber in three giant strides, running

for the lowest edge of the broken roof. The sword felt heavy

in his hands, bumping and dragging on the chamber floor.

 

'Escape, I must escape!' The words echoed and shouted in

his head, the rats were on his heels, weed worms were

dropping on to tHe ground uncoiling tHeir venomous stings

and scuttling towards him.

 

Something was hanging down through the broken roof,

long tendrils that waved and swayed, whispering, beckoning

him forwards. Rubel laughed, remembering the wizard's

words, and threw himself into the waiting branches then felt

them curl tightly around his arms and legs. He found himself

being lifted, carried upwards out of the darkness; below in

the chamber the floor was alive, boiling with shadows. He

 

sank back, weak with terror, and closed his eyes, laughing

helplessly. He cried out his thanks to Nevian for the magic

tree and felt the ice-cold snowflakes stinging his cheeks. The

trees were descending, taking him down the mountainside

and carrying him away from the City of Night.

 

'Nevian's magic will bring me to you, Thane,' he

whispered, strengthening his grip on the sword and patting

the branch that held him.

 

Willow had used every moment of the failing daylight to

finish the defences of the Rising. He straightened his back

and stared out into the gathering shadows. There were

figures, horses, Border Runners and a whole company of

animals he had never seen before filling the wild overgrown

road running towards him.

 

'Oakapple,' he called, dropping the small trowel he had

been using to clean between the brittle white bones that

crowned the summit of the Rising. Oakapple came quickly

and stood beside him, arching her hand against the low dying

sunlight and followed his crippled finger.

 

'There, look between the rows of ancient trees, it's .. .'

Willow paused raising himself on tiptoe. 'It's Star!' he

shouted, running forwards down the steep ramp of polished

bones. 'Star has come with her foal and all those that she

could gather . . .'

 

Willow's voice died away as he passed between the gates

and stopped on the lip of the narrow causeway spanning the

deep water-filled dyke. He had caught sight of the beautiful

young stallion trotting beside Starlight and it took his breath

away. He was as white as the driven snow yet ghosted with

the dapples of summer shadows, he strode across the open

space before the narrow causeway, moving with elastic ease

and as he halted he tossed his head proudly in the air and

scraped at the thin powdery covering of snow that covered

the ground with his front hoof.

 

Star whinnied a greeting and brushed her velvet muzzle

against Willow's chest. 'Now you must name him,' she

snorted, passing the words clearly into Willow's head, 'for he

is yours to ride into batle against the new darkness. Remember

Equestrius, tHe Lord of Horses, promised him to you

before the Gates of Underfall.'

 

Willow took a step and hesitated. 'But . . . but . . .

Star pushed him forwards. 'He will not hurt you, for now

he has come of age and knows how in the moment of his

birth you stood all alone with just one blade to keep him safe

from the Nightbeasts.'

 

The beautiful horse snorted, arched his neck and brushed

his muzzle against Willow's arm. For all his strength and

power he was soft and gentle with his touch.

 

'Naming is not easy,' Willow answered, stepping back a

pace. 'Names are something we carry all our life. They speak

our purpose and tell others who we are. Names are for our

Elders, or for Kings to give. No, I could not name him.'

 

Starlight snorted angrily, flattening her ears against the

side of her head. 'The gift was given and cannot be taken

away. You must name him, just as Thane named Esteron you

must.'

 

'But Thane is a King and I am only Willow Leaf, the

Tunnel slave,' cried Willow, 'and I can think of nothing

beautiful or proud enough.'

 

Star whinnied softly, calling to her foal, making him bend

his forelegs and kneel before Willow. 'He is yours to set

against the darkness.'

 

Willow reached out a hand and ran his twisted fingers

through the horse's silken mane, felt the soft warmth of his

coat and looked for long moments into his large liquid eyes

that hid the sparkle of secret fire.

 

'Only Kings and Elders,' he smiled, running his gnarled

fingers across the horse's shoulders and thinking back to a

time of despair in the City of Night when the Elder had taken

him to a long-forgotten chamber, whispering him into silence

and making him kneel and touch a smooth round stone stuck

fast in the rough rock wall. 'Eryus,' he had whispered, tapping

the stone's hard outer shell. 'It is a great power against the

darkness, for if you split it open it shines and glows pure

white. Milkstone is its common name but you must never call

it that or even whisper its real name, Eryus, here in the City

of night because the Nightmare does not know that I have

found it.'

 

Willow had opened his mouth to speak, to beg the Elder to

split the stone but the Elder had firmly shaken his head and

pressed him into silence. 'It is enough, child, that you know

of the milkstone. Perhaps one daylight you will use the light

trapped within the stone, perhaps then you will shout its

name as you help to banish the Nightmare's darkness,

perhaps . . .'

 

The memory was fading, fresh snowflakes were beginning

to fall. Willow looked up, the Elder's voice was becoming a

faint echo. That would be a good name, a proud name.

Smiling, he stepped close to the horse. 'Eryus. I name you

Eryus, the secret light that had its beginnings in the darkness,

the light that is waiting to shine.' Laughing with relief, Willow

carefully put his leg over Eryus' back and held tightly on to

the mane. He sat very still as the horse rose beneath him.

 

'Trot steady,' he whispered, but Eryus snorted and arched

his neck, he cantered in a broad circle, turned and strode up

across the narrow causeway bridge and did not stop until he

had reached the summit of the Rising.

 

'Be easy, be easy,' whispered Willow, trying not to show

his fear. Riding Starlight had been almost natural but Eryus

was part Warhorse, his muscles rippled, he moved with the

speed of a summer shadow. 'Easy,' Willow whispered again,

straightening his back and looking out through the falling

snow at the darkening horizon.

 

It had grown blacker with new shadows rising on the edge

of the wind. He leaned forwards as Fernleaf ran to his side

and, frowning, Willow followed his urgent pointing hand to

the very edge of sight on the wild road that had once led to

the Granite City. 'The shadows are darkest in that direction

and they seem almost to blend land and sky together.'

 

Willow nodded, arching his hand to shade his eyes against

the falling snow. He had thought it was black snowclouds on

the horizon but now he was sure it was more than that.

Fernleaf was pulling at his sleeve, pointing to a great company,

turning him in the direction of the wild grasslands.

Mighty stags, Warhorses and a huge pack of Border Runners

were coming towards them through the deepening

snowstorm.

 

'There are travellers on the road from Underfall,'-called

Oakapple, arriving breathlessly on the summit of the Rising,

'they are following the road lined with the ancient trees.'

 

Willow turned Eryus and cantered slowly around the high

summit of the Rising. Yes, there was the flash of light

reflected from crystal-tipped antlers in the grasslands and a

small company of warriors on the road from Underfall, but

who was it running before that darkness on the horizon's

edge, who?

 

Willow dismounted quickly and called all the Tunnellers

to the summit of the Rising. 'There is more than blizzards in

that darkness and it is spreading and flowing as a black tide

towards us. Sharpen your senses and have a keen edge on

your shovels. Go quickly and bring in the travellers from the

grasslands and Underfall for they run hard pressed before

gathering shadows.'

 

Breakmaster stumbled wearily forwards through the deepening

snow. He had lost count of the daylights as he trudged

along beside Beacon Light with one hand pressed against the

oiled cotton and the other wound in the horse's stirrup

leather to keep him from falling. Thoron half-ran, halfstaggered

at the other stirrup leather, his hand on Merion's

leg to keep him steady in the saddle. Thunderstone and

Tiethorm followed a dozen paces behind the company,

constantly twisting and turning, daggers ready in case the rats

or the shadow warriors should overtake them.

 

'There! Look just ahead,' cried Elionbel, shaking the

snowflakes out of her hair. 'That must be the place.'

 

Merion blinked his sore eyelids and laughed, the noise

rising in dry crackles from his blistered throat as he caught

sight of the Rising looming out of the gloomy snowstorm.

Willow's Tunnellers were suddenly crowding all around them

with sharp axes and spades honed for battle in their hands or

slung across their shoulders. 'Beautiful, beautiful,' he sighed,

slumping forwards as strong hands took him gently from the

saddle and carried him across the narrow causeway.

 

Willow cantered out of the rising and halted in a spray of

wind-driven snow a pace from where Thunderstone had

stopped and stood, staring at the Rising. 'Are there more on

the road behind you?' he shouted against the creaking and

groaning of the trees standing in neat rows beside the road.

 

'No,' answered the last Lampmaster, staring past Willow,

his eyes round, his mouth hanging open with wonder. He

raised his hand and pointed at the Rising, unable to form any

question.

 

Willow laughed and turned Eryus towards the wild grassland

road. 'It is the Rising, a fortress built against the

darkness. Hurry, climb to the summit, there is hot food and

shelter in the Tower.'

 

'Did you build this?' Thunderstone shouted as Eryus broke

into a canter.

 

'No, oh no,' called Willow across his shoulder. 'We will

talk of it later. There are others running before this dark

storm; I must hurry.'

 

Thunderstone smiled and rubbed his chin with difficulty.

There had always been something different about Willow,

something that went beyond those large round eyes and shellshaped

ears.

 

'Master, we must hurry.' Tiethorm was tugging impatiently

at the hem of his cloak as if he was afraid to cross the narrow

causeway and climb the steep ramp to tread on the thousands

of glittering eyes.

 

'Sometimes,' laughed Thunderstone, 'it is a distinct advantage

to have your head twisted the wrong way around for then

you cannot see what you are afraid of!'

Elionbel looked up the ramp and caught her breath,

pointing to the stone crown.

 

'It is the crown of Elundium,' answered Oakapple shyly,

hurrying out to meet them. 'Kruel smashed it into a thousand

pieces in the tombs of Underfall. I gathered up the pieces

and brought them with us; it seemed only right that the crown

should be here in the last ray of sunlight.'

 

Thunderstone turned and looked up at King Holbian's

crown where it hung, the smooth polished stone reflecting

the dull winter light that still shone above the shadows. He

opened his mouth to answer when a shout and the noise of

thundering hoofbeats made him turn and jump quickly aside.

Huge stags, Warhorses and Border Runners were everywhere,

ploughing through the snow and cantering up the

steep ramp, rearing and plunging all around him.

 

A Batle Owl stooped to Thunderstone's shoulder and he

laughed then began searching the dense fog of snow dust the

animals had churned up. 'Kyot, Eventine! Where are you?'

he shouted.

 

A dark monstrous shape loomed before him, sending him

tumbling backwards with fright. Crying out, he reached for

his dagger but a soft voice laughed and a strong hand pulled

him to his feet. 'Kyot?' he whispered, searching two faces

that now seemed to grow from the same body, two heads,

four arms. 'Kyot? ... Eventine? What has Kruel done to

you?' he asked, brushing snow from his knees and staring at

Tanglecrown and Sprint, seeing only a nightmare shape with

six legs.

 

Kyot looked past Thunderstone as he was about to answer

and instead whispered quickly to Eventine who loosed an

arrow in amongst the trees. A shadow warrior screamed and

fell forwards into a clear patch of snow.

 

'As one we can still fight the darkness,' answered Eventine

grimly, nocking another arrow shaft on to Kyot's bow and

sweeping her careful Archer's eyes across the trees.

'Beware! You must not harm the trees!' cried Willow as

she drew the feathered flight against her cheek.

 

A shadow rat shrieked, its back snapped in two as it was

flung by a fast-moving branch high above the whispering

leaves. 'We will not harm them, the trees are great warriors,'

she answered. 'Without their help we would never have

reached the Rising.'

 

'Is Thane here?' asked Elionbel, turning breathlessly to

Willow. 'Only, Thunderstone - the trees tell of the fall of the

Granite City.' Her words spilt out in a nervous torrent as she

searched desperately across the summit of the Rising 'The

Granite City has fallen and they said that we should meet

him here in the last ray of sunlight.'

 

Willow shrugged his shoulders helplessly and threw up his

hands in despair. 'He came too late, my Lady. All Elundium

is covered beneath a blanket of snow. We are surrounded by

a sea of darkest shadows.'

 

Elionbel turned away in despair, burying her head in her

hands. All this darkness was her fault, it had only happened

because she could not find the courage to tell the truth. The

killing and the cruel maiming, the ruin and the terror that

cried out beneath the crush of shadowlight spreading across

Elundium, it was all her fault. A gentle hand touched her

forehead, a strong arm closed about her shoulders drawing

her towards the Tower and shelter from the storm. Eventine

smiled, softly brushing snowflakes from her face and whispered, '

We shall shoulder Martbel's tragedy between us and

all Elundium will fight beside us to win back the sunlight.

Come, come into the warm amongst those who love you.'

 

The Last Ray of Sunlight

 

Thane barely had time to turn and look back through the

swirling snowstorm at the chaos of Kruel's shadowy army

flooding through the Stumble Gate. Nevian had pulled him

forwards, pressing him to flee, to follow the ancient trees and

vanish before Kruel could summon more shadow rats and

warriors to overrun them. The trees had heard the magician's

shout and closed tightly around Thane and those who had

escaped with him from Candlebane Hall. They began gently

but firmly to shepherd them through the snowstorm towards

the Rising.

 

'Is there no end to this shadowlight?' shouted Thane. 'Will

it ever stop snowing?' he cried angrily against the biting,

stinging wind.

 

'It snows to our advantage,' cried Nevian through the folds

of the rainbow cloak he had tied across his face against the

blinding snow.

 

Thane laughed harshly, putting his tired aching shoulder

against the flanks of a faltering Warhorse and helping the

exhausted Archers push him forwards through the snow.

'How does it help when it wearies our weak and pulls them

down? There is a litter of those who loved the light and who

I could not save spread clear across Elundium because of this

cursed snow!'

 

'It burdens us, yes,' answered the magician, bumping

clumsily into Thane as he breasted a deep drift of snow, 'but

it has slowed down the shadows that tread on our heels and

the trees will not let them attack us. It

gives us time to find the sunlight.)

 

'Lord, I can go no further,' cried a voice of despair close to

the ancient trees. Thane stopped and turned his aching feet to

search the gloomy snow-fogged space between the last

straggling Warhorses and the close ring of ancient trees

shielding them from Kruel's Nightmare warriors.

 

Running back, he bent, hooking his numb fingers into

Errant's ice-ringed cloak collar and pulled the horseman to his

feet. 'Go forwards, Errant,' he shouted against the creaking,

grinding movement of the trees, shaking him, beating him

awake. 'Go amongst the Warhorses before you freeze to death.

Ride awhile on Dawnrise - hurry before the ancient trees tread

on you.'

 

Errant smiled foolishly, his eyes dark-ringed with tiredness

and blinked his frozen eyelashes. 'I cannot, my Lord. My legs . .

. I cannot move.'

 

Thane smiled and lifted the frozen horseman up across his

shoulders. 'You will not leave me so easily, Errant, nor fall

beneath the ancient trees,' he muttered fiercely, forcing his way

forwards through the weary frozen warriors who stumbled

beside the Warhorses, their blackened, frostbitten fingers

woven through the horses' wet tangled manes.

 

'No, Lord,' Errant mumbled through chattering teeth, 'the

trees are our shepherds, they will not harm us. Look how the

ice-rimmed branches reach down to push us forwards.'

 

Thane nodded without looking back. He had seen the

branches scoop up staggering Warhorses and Border Runners

and help them forwards and he had also seen them gently

check amongst the frozen dead before silently parting to leave

them untouched in the deep untrampled snow. 'Yes Errant,' he

answered with a voice heavy with tiredness, 'they are good

shepherds and a great blessing in these desperate

shadowlights, but I wish I could stand and fight against Kruel

and that army of shadows that follow in our footsteps. With

each daylight, each hour in this half light more of us die.

How long, Errant, how many daylights must I run? If only I had

. . .'

 

'No, Lord,' shouted Nevian, clutching at Thane's arm and

cracking the thin layer of ice with his fingers, 'do not say it. Do

not even think of it, for now is not the moment. The Archers'

quivers are empty and there are less than a dozen fire-forged

blades between us now. It is not the time to stop, to turn or

even to hesitate. Let the trees lead us forward to the last ray of

sunlight. There you may ask for all that you desire.'

 

'Forwards! Always forwards,' muttered Thane, pausing

beside Errant's horse. Dawnrise whinnied and staggered as he

bravely tried to arch his neck and take the rider's weight. 'No,'

whispered Thane, moving slowly away between the crowded

horses and searching until he found Esteron. He lifted the

horseman carefully from his shoulders and laid him across

Esteron's back. 'Dawnrise has worn his great heart to a shadow

and I fear for him. Will you carry Errant until the strength flows

through his legs again?' Thane asked, stroking Esteron's strong

shoulder.

 

Esteron snorted, brushing his ice-cold muzzle on Thane's

cheek.

 

'Cover his legs with the scarf, Thane. The sun I wove into

the cloth will thaw them.'

 

'Mother!' Thane cried, spinning around at the familiar voice.

'Why do you walk?' he asked angrily, breaking the frozen

leather thongs that bound the scarf on to his arm and folding it

tightly around Errant's legs.

 

'To save Mulberry's strength,' she replied proudly, 'and I will

not ride while others walk.'

 

Thane smiled at her and gathered her up in his strong arms to

set her firmly on Mulberry's back. 'You will serve me better,

Mother, if you ride beside Errant and watch over him. When his

 

strength returns go with the standard of the sun and use it to

warm and help those who are frozen, and give them comfort in

this darkness.'

 

Nevian pulled at Thane's arm shouting against the storm

and pointing ahead out of the narrow funnel of slow-moving

treetrunks.'There is something ahead, I saw it. I saw

something shining brightly.'

 

Thane let go of Mulberry's bridle and ran forwards as fast

as he could through the deep snow. Nevian ran on his heels

treading easily into Thane's footprints, the rainbow cloak

gathered in both arms.

 

'What did you see?' shouted Thane as he stopped, his eyes

squeezed into tight slits against the stinging snow.

 

'Wait! Wait until the wind drops and then you will see it.'

 

Both of them stood rock-still, bent forwards against the

wind. On either side of them the close-ranked trees marched

steadily onwards.

 

'There it is! A ray of light-!' shouted Thane, pointing to

what looked like a bright beacon that rose in the swirling

snowstorm crystal white, against the shadow-dark sky.

 

Thane laughed and shouted to the Battle Owls sheltering

in the branches of the ancient trees, sending them up to

search the snow ahead, then his voice faded into silence: he

hesitated. 'What place is this that the ancient trees have

brought us to?' he asked, gripping Nevian's cloak as he stared

at the Rising.

 

Nevian brushed the snow from his eyebrows and took a

cautious step forwards and stopped. 'By all my magic, it is

the greatest wonder in Elundium. It is the Rising, the place

that Willow Leaf sought. Look how it shines even in this

shadowlight. Look how it sparkles!'

 

'The snowstorm is weakening. Look, there are more

ancient trees gathered in dense groves around the base of

that frost-glittering hill and they are moving slowly across the

snow towards us in neat columns,' cried Grey Goose, running

to Thane's side.

 

Thane swept his gaze from the trees to the Rising. He saw a

horse the colour of hammered silver galloping towards

them down a steep ramp brushed free of snow. It seemed to

stare at him with thousands of eyes.

 

'There are Warriors.' Nevian paused, his frozen eyebrows

cracking into a frown. 'Willow's people have armed themselves,'

he whispered, clapping his numb fingers together as

the frown softened into his broadest smile.

 

The Warhorses and the Border Runners had caught up

with Thane and Nevian and shuffled to a halt. Grey Goose

hurried in amongst them and brought out his half-frozen

Archers. 'Draw your swords and be ready,' he commanded

before running back to Thane's side.

 

'Lord, the Archers . . .' he began but Thane put his hand

on Grey Goose's arm, pushing his half-drawn sword firmly

back into the scabbard and turned him towards the galloping

horseman.

 

Grey Goose laughed and threw his arms high into the air.

Thane strode forwards through the deep snow, shouting

Willow's name against the shadowlight and Nevian smiled up

at the ancient trees drawn all around him and whispered.

'You have waited almost long enough, be ready, for your

King will have great need of you!'

 

'Elionbel?' Thane whispered, reaching the top of the steep

ramp. 'Oh, Elion,' he shouted, running forwards across the

summit of the Rising and catching her up in his arms.

'Through all the darkness and each cry of terror I never

dared to hope. Oh, Elion, I love you, I love you.'

 

Thane wept, closing his arms and lifting her off the ground.

 

'No! No!' she cried, twisting in his arms. 'I am worse than

a traitor, to have lied, to have kept Kruel's bastard birth a

 

secret. If only I had broken the pledge and told you none of

this darkness, none of the cruel crippling, the killing ...

forgive me, please forgive me!'

 

Thane pressed his lips on hers, calming her into silence.

'We have so little time,' he whispered. 'Of course I forgive

you, I forgive you every single silent moment. Fate gave you

the hardest road, Elion, for you could not break such a pledge

and there are none in all Elundium who would have asked

you to.'

 

'But the darkness!' she cried, breaking free. 'If I had

followed the one-eyed Nightbeast, if I had killed the bastard

before he had the power to do all this . . .'

 

Thane smiled and pulled her to him. 'When Kruel is dead

then we will talk on it.'

 

'How! How will you kill him? He has grown into the most

powerful nightmare in all Elundium.' She wept, burying her

head in her hands. 'How? How will you do it?'

 

Thane smiled and put his hand under her chin. He lifted

her face until he could look into her eyes. 'I know not how,

my love, but Kruel had victory at his fingertips as he stood on

the high wall of the Granite City yet we defeated him,

drowning his warriors and shadow rats. We have outrun him

across the length of Elundium to stand here upon the summit

of this, the strongest fortress in Elundium. We will find a way

to defeat him. I know it.' Thane paused, searching her eyes

carefully. 'I know that today I am stronger and more sure of

my purpose because the shadow that once haunted you and

drove a wedge between us has gone. Now there is sunlight

once more in your eyes.'

 

'Lord, come quickly. Kruel's shadow army is a league

beyond the ancient trees!' shouted Errant, making Thane

spin around and let go of Elion's hand.

 

Running to the edge of the summit he looked out at the

advancing shadows, his lips thinning into a line of bitter

determination as he watched the shadows close all about

them.

 

'Thanehand! Galloperspawn! I have come to take you and

all the people of Elundium into my darkness!' cried Kruel's

voice from the edge of the advancing shadows.

 

Thane looked out quickly to where the trees had drawn

together on the furthest side of the Rising and then down

into the deep dyke. 'How long will that narrow causeway

hold? How strong are the gates? These steep slopes, what

makes them glow?' he asked without turning.

 

'Lord, the Rising is made of bones, polished bright to

catch each tiny ray of light that still shines in Elundium.'

 

Thane turned quickly and smiled at Willow then took his

hand. 'Once more, Willow Leaf, once more you come and

save us from defeat as the darkness is about to swallow us.

Once more, great warrior, your people have worked with pick

and shovel to raise a fortress.'

 

Willow smiled and knelt before Thane. 'Lord, there were

voices in the ancient trees that led us here to prepare this

Rising as the last fortress against the darkness. We found

bones, whole skeletons chained together that rise up in an

unending spiral to this summit. All we did was to clear away

the earth that shrouded them and polish them to catch the

light.'

 

Thane frowned, remembering clearly and hearing the echo

of Nevian's words in Candlebane Hall. A proud people loon to

torment and bound in chains.

 

'Willow,' he whispered, searching quickly with his eyes for

the magician, 'in all your wanderings have you found the

place to call your own? Have you discovered your beginnings?)

 

Willow hesitated, almost saying 'yes' but the word stuck in

his throat. Nevian caught Thane's eye and smiled secrecy,

nodding his head. Thane laughed softly and pulled Willow to

his feet. 'Of all the places in the whole wide world, tHis Rising

that the trees brought you to, tHis ring of bones with all its

history is your home. You could feel it in the earth beneath

your feet, you could smell it in the very air, yet you hesitated

and would not have taken it, would you?'

 

Willow looked down at his feet. 'No, Lord, we could not

claim the last ray of sunlight. It belongs to the people of

Elundium.'

 

'It is yours, Willow Leaf, this Rising and all the lands that

surround it as far as tHe eye can see are yours, by tHe toil and

suffering of your forefathers.'

Calling in a loud voice he pledged to break the chains that

bound the Tunnel slaves. Now they would be truly free to be

the masters of their own destiny.

 

'Oakapple, we are free!' Willow began to shout but Nevian

held up his hand and in the shadowy silence they heard the

snapping and rattle of countless chains breaking, echoing

down through the heart of the Rising, making the very bones

of the earth tremble.

 

Kruel heard Thane's pledge and screamed with rage throwing

his hatred against the strong gates of the Rising and

shouting. they are mine! Mine! They are my father's slaves

that you stole from the City of Night.'

 

Willow laughed and shook his blackened, crippled fist at

Kruel. 'I was born to Krulshards' nightmare darkness, yes,

but I fought and led my people to their freedom and none

shall take it away. No one, do you hear!'

 

'Take care,' whispered Nevian, easing Willow back away

from the edge of the summit. 'We do not yet have the

strength to fight against this Kruel or know of his weakness.'

 

'I can hear your whisperings and I know all your weaknesses,

magician,' Kruel laughed, but the sound of his laugh

was hollow as it shrieked pitilessly through the shadowlight

across the Rising, shattering the ivory-smooth skulls that

ringed the summit and turning into dull echoes as it faded

away across the snow-covered causeway back into the gloomy

shadowlight.

 

Arbel strode to his side, the black malice fluttering from

his hands. Kerzolde and Kerhunge followed in his footprints

and squatted on either side of Kruel, cursing and shouting,

calling on Thanehand to come out and do battle with their

master.

 

'Which Nightbeast shall I silence?' whispered Eventine,

reaching back into her quiver.

 

Elionbel started and half-turned at Eventine's voice. 'The

hideous one-eyed hairy beast,' she answered hatefully. 'The

one that took the bastard from within the malice.'

 

Eventine narrowed her eyes, wet the cold steel blade of the

arrow with her tongue and nocked it on to Kyot's bow. 'Hold

very steady,' she whispered into his ear, locking her fingers

on the bow string and drawing the feathered flight back

against her cheek. She slowly searched the shadowlight

below. Tanglecrown moved beneath her, seeking a better

footing on the slippery smooth summit of bones. Sprint

followed, sparks dancing from his hind shoes. 'Be still,'

Eventine barely whispered, squeezing her knees into Tanglecrown's

 flanks. Kruel was moving away from the narrow

causeway taking the Nightbeasts with him; they seemed to

merge, to blend together in the shadows. Eventine blinked

and widened her eyes. There he was, the nightbeast, a dark

hideous shape against the snow.

 

'No!' cried Nevian, turning in panic as he heard the Bow

of Orm groan as it tightened but it was too late, Eventine had

loosed her arrow and the empty bow string sang out with

sweet music in the darkness. 'You move too quickly, now

Kruel will attack!' he hissed, jumping and turning back as

Kerhunge's scream shattered the uneasy silence. Eventine's

arrow had flown wide of Kerzolde and struck Kerhunge in

the chest tearing through his armoured hide and lifting him

high into the air, tumbling him over and over and spilling his

black blood across the trampled snow.

 

'Strengthen the gates!' shouted Thane, rushing to the

brink of the steep ramp as the shadows surged forwards.

 

'There are arrows and spears and swords for any strong

enough to use them,' shouted Willow against the roaring tide

of darkness that now swept at breakneck speed across the

snow towards them.

 

'Take Grey Goose and the Archer strike down the outer

spiral of the Rising. We must defend the gates for as long as

 

possible,' cried Thane.

 

'Fly for your King, defend the Rising,' shouted Nevian,

sending up the Battle Owls.

 

Grannog growled and snarled, his teeth gleaming in the

shadowlight, his hackles were razor-sharp along his back and

he led the Border Runners beside the Warhorses to the very

brink of the narrow causeway.

 

Esteron roared out a challenge and cantered to Thane's

side, rearing and plunging amongst Kruel's nightmare warriors

as he fought to hold the gates, crushing the rats beneath

his steel-rimmed feet as they swarmed on to the narrow

causeway in black waves of terror. Arbel ran screaming on to

the causeway, the black shadowy malice spreading darkness

and despair as it flowed out behind him; the shadow warriors

cheered and surged with new strength across the causeway.

 

'It is hopeless, my Lord,' shouted Errant, driven to his

knees beneath the fury of Arbel's attack, seeing the gates

falling beneath the weight of the shadow rats. Soon they will

be swarming on to the Rising. Nothing can stop them.'

 

'Go to Thane, take him the standard of the sun,' cried

Angishand, running across-the summit of the Rising with the

summer scarf streaming from her hands as she searched for

the owls. Mulcade and Rockspray heard her cry above the

roar of battle. Rockspray came first, hooking his blood-wet

talons on to the scarf and took it spiralling high above the

Rising to catch what little light there was. Mulcade hooted

proudly and closed his talons on the scarf. Together they

stooped across the Rising bringing light into the darkness

below.

 

'Sow them against the darkness.' The words suddenly

shouted in Elionbel's head drowning out the noise of the

battle and making her feel beneath her cloak for the leather

pouch that Pinchface had thrust into her hands as they

escaped from Underfall. Now she remembered the Loremaster's

words. They were seeds, nightflower seeds and he had

said that Thane must use them against the darkness. Running

recklessly down the ramp, heedless to the warning shouts of

those around her she passed in amongst the Warhorses,

scattering the small round seeds across the brittle bones

beneath their feet. Kneeling, blind and deaf to the terror that

swarmed about her, she pushed the seeds in between the

skulls. Jostled and trampled she climbed across the steep

sides of the Rising, sowing a precious seed between each

broken link in the chains that had for suns beyond counting

bound Willow's people into slavery.

 

Step by step Thane was being driven back into the Rising.

Mulcade and Rockspray brought him the standard of the sun

but even that could not stem the tide of darkness. Arbel was

but a dozen strides away, smashing all that stood before him

with a huge black battle mace. Thane raised a hand and

shouted to Grey Goose to cover their retreat. He called the

Warhorses and the Border Runners to go back into the

Rising. Reaching down, he gripped Errant by the shoulder

and pulled him backwards only a moment before Arbel's

black mace shattered the ground where he had been.

 

Grey Goose dropped his hand and the Archers' arrows

sang through the air, clearing the narrow causeway and

sending the hoards of shadowy warriors screaming into the

deep dyke below. Thane turned and fled, running as fast as

he could up the steep ramp. Grannog was at his heels and

Esteron cantered beside him. Halfway up Thane stopped and

turned, the sound of battle had melted to an eerie silence,

the black shadows had halted on the brink of the causeway,

the shadow rats crowded statue-still along the edge of the

dyke, keeping well clear of the close-ranked trees that had

moved slowly forwards on either side of the Rising. Arbel

stood alone in the centre of the causeway, his armoured lips

curled in a sneer as he faced Grey Goose's strike of Archers.

 

'Nothing can harm me!' he gloated, striding forwards.

 

Grey Goose dropped his hand again and every Archer on

his strike loosed an arrow at the black-armoured warrior.

Arbel laughed as the arrows shattered and splintered against

the Nightshards' armour and he strode through the broken

gates up into the Rising. 'Nothing can harm me!' he shouted,

raining savage blows with his mace at the countless eyes

staring up at him from the skulls set on the ramp.

 

Thane took a step towards him. Esteron turned and

crouched, his hocks close to the ground, his ears flat against

the side of his head; he was ready to spring. Arbel sneered,

taunting Thane, trying to draw him on. Thane raised his

notched and bloody sword and took a step forward.

 

'No!' cried Elionbel. 'Do not go to him, he will kill you.'

 

Arbel looked up at his sister, his lips curling with hatred as

he pointed an armoured finger at her. 'You shall hang beside

him in the City of Night.'

 

Thane. stopped mid-stride and sniffed at the cold winter

air and laughed. There was a scent, a beautiful heavy scent.

Smiling, he beckoned to Arbel with his sword, goading him

to follow, welcoming him into the Rising, and with each

backward stride that drew the black-armoured warrior up the

ramp bright flowers sprang up tangling about his legs, sharp

thorns scratched and tore at his armour and bitter fumes

blinded him, choking him. Screaming with rage Arbel broke

loose from the nightflower vines that clung to his ankles and

ran back through the broken gates across the causeway,

shouting as he ran for the shadow rats to attack, driving his

shadow warriors on up the ramp. But none could touch or

cross the nightflowers, and with each assault the barrier of

white petals grew deeper and thicker until the dyke was

buried beneath them in dazzling brightness, and the brittle

hill of bones shone out, blazing in the darkness.

 

Kruel watched his army falter in the banks of brilliant

flowers and called them back sending them out of the

Archers' range. 'I know the legends!' he shouted, striding

between the gates and treading to the very edge of the first

flowers. 'I know the nightflowers will protect you only for the

passage of one night. With the dawn my darkness will be

amongst you and I shall destroy you all.'

 

Nevian thought for a moment then spread his rainbow

cloak in glowing colours and laughed at Kruel. 'If real

daylight comes, foul demon of the darkness, then it will be

you who loses everything, for we shall have destroyed the

shadows and have the power of the sunlight.'

 

'What power?' whispered Thane, desperately trying to

hone the notches from the blade of his sword.

 

Nevian laughed quietly. He knew Kruel did not fear the

sunlight but it would weaken his shadow warriors and those

black rats. If the sun did shine with the breaking of the new

daylight all would change, he was sure of it.

 

'But I cannot even fight against Arbel, how will I fight

Kruel?' Thane asked.

 

Nevian pressed his finger on to Thane's lips and whispered. '

Look beyond the shadow warriors far out along the

wild road that once led to the Palace of Kings.'

 

Thane frowned. 'To Underfall?' he muttered, taking

Elionbel's hand into his own and leading her to the edge of

the summit. But he could see nothing in the snowy darkness,

nothing save the tops of the ancient trees that had drawn in

close to the banks of sweet-smelling nightflowers.

 

'Be ready to ride out, my King,' whispered Nevian. 'When

the first ray of sunlight touches the summit of the Rising and

the blackbirds sing upon the Greenway's edge, then you must

trust in the threads of Fate, for they will bring the sword that

Durondel hot-forged to strike at Krulshards' heart.'

 

'Rubel? Has Rubel brought the sword?' Thane hissed,

turning on the magician and gripping the rainbow cloak so

tightly he drained the colours between his fingertips.

 

'Rubel?' Elionbel whispered, stepping quickly forwards.

'Have you seen my brother? Where is he?'

 

Nevian smiled and drew them both into the folds of the

rainbow cloak. 'He is out there, yes. I saw him racing the

road towards us in a grove of ancient trees.'

 

'Did he carry the sword? Are you sure?' pressed Thane.

'Was the bright metal hilt in his hands?'

 

Nevian shook his head. 'No! No, it was but a moment's

glimpse as Rockspraytook your banner of the sun high above

the Rising. It was but a curtain briefly parting the darkness.'

 

Thane shivered and looked up into the night-dark sky and

saw far above his head bright stars sewn across the darkness.

'It will be as you have foretold,' he whispered, holding

Nevian's gaze. 'The dawn will be bright and the sun will cast

long shadows on the snow.'

 

'The wind was changing as Kruel spoke, that is why the

sun will shine. The storms are over, the weather turns to our

advantage. Yes, the sun will cast shadows,' muttered Nevian,

rubbing his chin and turning away slowly to pace round and

round the high rim of the Rising. Whispering, he called by

rote as he wore away the night hours until with a final step

and a shout of laughter he stopped and clapped his hands.

'Yes, yes, of course, Kruel is so powerful that he can deny

the sun a shadow. That must also be his weakness, his

weakness must lie somewhere in that strength. Thane!

Thane!'

 

Turning to left and right Nevian called and searched the

summit. He saw Thane and Elionbel's huddle of cloaks and

began to cross over to them. 'No, tomorrow will be soon

enough,' he whispered to himself smiling, seeing them so

closely entwined in each other's arms. He silently unclasped

the rainbow cloak and carefully spread it across them covering

them both with warm colours from a summer's day.

 

'We must do all we can,' whispered Nevian, drawing Thane,

Errant, Breakmaster, Thoron, Kyot, Eventine and Willow

and all his people into a tight Battle Council on the lip of the

steep ramp beneath the glittering stars. Equestrius snorted,

marshalling the Warhorses into the Council and Grannog led

the Border Runners to sit at the magician's feet. Mulcade

hooted softly and the Battle Owls stooped silently to perch,

unblinking, at the last Battle Council before the grey hours

touched the sky.

 

'Lord, you must take it,' begged Breakmaster, kneeling

and offering up the steelsilver battle coat King Holbian had

given to him before the gates of Underfall.

 

Thane smiled in the cold grey light of the new dawn and

took the gift of Kings, feeling the smooth touch of watered

silk between his fingers as he carefully spread the battle coat

across Esteron's back. 'It is a great gift and Esteron thanks

you,' he cried, gripping the horseman's hand.

 

Breakmaster blinked, forcing back his tears as he held the

stirrup for Thane to mount. 'Let me ride with you, Lord,' he

whispered.

 

'No,' answered Thane, pirouetting Esteron firmly to face

the crowded summit. 'None of you will follow me. I must

ride out alone to face this Kruel.'

 

Nevian stepped forwards, buckling the clasp of the rainbow

cloak at his throat. 'The Warhorses and the Border Runners

take no man as their master, Thane. They will lead you down

into the swarming shadows and match you stride for stride,

no matter what you say.'

 

Willow laughed and squeezed through the press of warriors

and Warhorses. 'You gave us our freedom, my Lord, so we

shall use it and run at your stirrup.'

 

'Tanglecrown and Sprint shall gallop beside you,' shouted

Kyot, holding up the great Bow of Orm.

 

Elionbel reached up and caught Thane's hand, holding on

to it tightly before saying, 'There is just one handful of

nightflower seeds left in the Loremaster's pouch and I shall

ride beside you on Stumble and scatter them against the

darkness.'

 

'But,' cried Thane, 'I am the King and I must go out

alone.'

 

'There is no time for debate, my Lord. The sun is rising

and the nightflowers are fading,' shouted Nevian, running to

 

Esteron's side and gripping the bridle. 'Every one of us here

upon the Rising loves you, Thane, and would rather die

beside you, fighting for the daylight, than wait here in terror

of the darkness that will surely come if you fail.'

 

Thane laughed and swept the summer scarf high above his

head to catch all the first rays of sunlight. 'Then ride and run

and sing and shout and follow your destiny, stride for stride

beside me, into the blackest shadows, for I love you all!'

 

'Lord, Lord,' shouted Nevian, keeping a hold on Esteron's

bridle and striding the smooth summit of bones as the horse

surged forwards, 'when you cross the causeway shout to the

ancient trees, tell them that now you have great need of

them.'

 

'Trees?' laughed Thane across his shoulder. 'They are

brave shepherds that brought us safely to the Rising, but how

can they help me now?'

 

'Call on them, Lord,' shouted Nevian as Esteron broke free

and began to canter down the ramp, 'and all those Warriors

who did not pledge themselves upon the Causeway Field will

come to you, for they have watched and listened and seen that

you are truly worthy of the Kingship of Elundium.'

 

The roar of hoofbeats and fierce growling echoed and

thundered down the ramp as the Warhorses and Border

Runners trampled a path through the withering nightflowers.

 

'Wait!' cried Nevian, catching hold of Willow's sleeve as

he reached the lip of the ramp. Turning him, Nevian pointed

out across the top of Kruel's advancing shadow army towards

the grove of trees and a lone figure struggling through the

snow. 'Rubel will come too late. Look, the sword is too heavy

for him to carry alone. Go to him, Willow. Gallop out on

Eryus for he is a Lord of Horses and he could carry the

sword.'

 

Willow ran to the tower and took the reins of the bridle he

had fitted on to the beautiful horse then sprang up on to his

back, calling to the magician as he cantered towards the

ramp. 'The Elder was right when he showed me the milkstone,

Eryus - it is the secret light that I can use against the

darkness.'

 

Thane halted on the brink of the narrow causeway.

Elionbel pressed Stumble close to Esteron's flank, the nightflower

seeds held tightly in her hand. 'Warriors! I have great

need of all the warriors of Elundium who love the daylight!'

he shouted, standing in the stirrups and turning towards the

trees.

 

The ancient trees groaned and creaked and were suddenly

still. Their whispering leaves fell into silence.

 

'Warriors! Brave men who love the sunlight,' he shouted

desperately, seeing Kruel's swarming shadow army rising up

to tower over him and seeing just how much darkness he had

to cross to reach the ancient grove of trees where Rubel

carried the sword of Durondel.

 

'Warriors!' he shouted, the word turning to a cry of

laughter as the trees began to sway and crumble into hollow

strips of bark. They broke and shattered into a fog of splinters

and in their place a glittering forest of spearblades were

lowered against the shadows and with a roaring shout for

Thane as King the grim-faced warriors who had once

doubted his worthiness surged forward, clearing a broad path

through the shadow warriors and closing in about their King.

 

Kruel screamed with rage and drove his shadow army

onwards. Arbel waded with giant strides towards Esteron,

crushing everything in his path. Willow crouched, holding

tightly on to Eryus' back, his hands wound into the flowing

mane as the horse raced quicker than a silver shadow through

the darkness.

 

'Give me your hand, your hand,' Willow shouted breathlessly,

leaning out and locking his fingers around Rubel's

 

wrist and pulling him up on to Eryus' back. 'Run, Eryus. Run

as you never have before,' he shouted and urged the horse to

gallop back through the shadows.

 

Arbel reached out with armoured fingers for Thane.

Esteron reared, crashing his forelegs helplessly against

Arbel's armour and fell, sending Thane sprawling in the

snow.

 

'No! No' You foul monster,' shouted Elionbel, hurling the

handful of nightflower seeds in Arbel's face and cursing him

as he drove Stumble on to his knees with one blow from his

armoured hand.

 

'Now, sister, I shall kill you,' he snarled, brushing the

stoops of Battle Owls away from his face as if they were

harmless sparrows while he pulled Elionbel roughly to her

feet.

 

Thane struggled to rise. Galloping hoofbeats sounded close

by. A blood-freezing cry of triumph made him look up and

stagger to his knees. Kruel had run forwards as Thane fell

and now he towered over him, a black-bladed dagger in his

hands. Darkness was spreading, boiling across the trampled

snow, black shadows were drifting across the sun.

 

'Thane! The sword. Catch the sword!' cried Rubel, throwing

it with all his strength to where Thane knelt as Eryus

galloped past Kruel's shadowless figure.

 

Thane lunged forwards, his hand outstretched and caught

the hilt of the sword, crying out as he closed his fingers

around the strip of ice-cold shadow malice still bound around

the blade. Turning, he struggled to rise, the strip of malice

unwinding from the weapon and billowing out against him as

he fought to thrust the sword.

 

But there was nothing; no sword. The blade had been

sheared through by the rainbow thread Rubel had bound

about the strip of black malice. There was nothing but a

hand's span of broken blade wrapped in the cloth. Kruel

laughed. This was his moment of victory. He swept his

dagger high above his head to make the killing stroke Arbel

sneered and closed his fingers about Elionbel's throat to

choke the life out of her.

 

'Steady, steady,' whispered Eventine. The Bow of Orm

was drawn tight, the last glass arrowblade aimed at Kruel,

ready on the string.

 

Kruel rose, towering, the dagger raised above Thane's

head. Arbel was crushing his fingers about Elionbel's throat.

'No!' Eventine shouted as Tanglecrown moved, bumping

against Sprint. She released her fingers, sending the glass

arrowblade spinning past its target, shrieking its way across

the battlefield. Arbel screamed, dropping Elionbel as the

glass arrowblade smashed into his armour, shattering in a

blaze of light, etching black shadows across the snow and

sending him high into the air.

 

Thane threw himself sideways digging the broken blade of

the sword and the strip of black shadowy malice deep into

Kruel's footprints in the snow as he dodged the dagger blade.

Kruel toppled forwards his foot stuck fast to the shadowy

cloth.

 

'The shadow! That is his weakness, give him a shadow!'

cried Nevian from the high summit of the Rising. 'Use the

Sword. Use the strip of malice. Dig! Dig!'

 

Thane rolled over with a shout of laughter on his lips as

Kruel's dagger cut into the snow beside his head and he

began to drive the malice into Kruel's footprints with the

short broken blade of the sword.

 

'No! No!' screamed Kruel, the dagger slipping from his

weakening fingers. He stumbled backwards away from

Thane, tearing at the dead locks of hair on the top of his

head and trying to shed the skin and escape from the shadow,

digging his nails into the hard bony ridge of his brow. But

with each footprint he left on the snow the shadow grew

stronger and darker. He was shrinking, crying out- as he

crawled away from Thane and hid in Kerzolde's arms.

 

Kerzolde snarled, baring his ragged teeth as Thane

advanced but the noise rattled dry in his throat. The darkness

was melting away, the sunlight was growing stronger, his

rotten Nightbeast heart was fading. 'Galloperspawn!' he

hissed weakly, trying to raise the broken claw to protect his

master.

 

The roar of battle faltered, the shadowy warriors hesitated

and silence slowly spread in rippling, widening circles from

where Thane stood. One by one the dark-etched shadow

warriors dropped their spears and swords and crumpled,

falling helpless and blind in the strengthening sunlight, crying

out for mercy.

 

Merion saw the shadow grow at Kruel's feet and snatched

up a lighted bulrush torch in his charred and blackened

fingers then ran headlong amongst the shadow rats that had

assaulted the Rising, setting fire to their foul brittle-spined

skins, setting a blaze that spread far across Elundium to rid

the sunlit world of their black shadows. Thane advanced on

Kerzolde pushing his carcass aside and picked up Kruel. He

held him at arm's length, turning him and twisting him in the

sunlight, frowning as he looked at his shrunken body. Raising

the broken blade he prepared to make the killing stroke and

rid Elundium of the shadowlight.

 

'No, no!' cried Elionbel, running to his side and grabbing

his sleeve. Reaching out she took the hilt of the sword from

his hands. 'Do not kill him, Thane. Remember Nevian's

words, remember that nothing can be all bad. Look, he has

shrunk to less than a man, a boy, a mere child, his power is

gone, the darkness is over. Look, look at my fingers, they are

healing, the Warhorses and the Border Runners are not lame.

Sprint's legs are whole again and Kyot can see which way he

is walking. Look, our hurts are vanishing in the sunlight, we

are all healed.'

 

'You would spare his life?' asked Thane, his jaw already

set in judgement as he stared down at the weeping child-like

figure struggling in his arms. 'You would spare Krulshards'

black seed and let it grow strong to bring the terror of his

Nightmare darkness once more across Elundium? You would

give in to some foolish weakness and show mercy?'

 

Elionbel spread her hands, struggling for the words. 'He is

not all darkness, Thane. He is a part of Martbel, I saw it the

moment you sewed the shadow into his footprints. It is in his

eyes, his face. You have destroyed the Nightmare, what lies

before you is ...' Elionbel faltered, grasping at the words.

'He is my brother!'

 

'Kill him! Kill the bastard Kruel, and curse the daylight he

ever called himself our brother!' shouted Rubel, forcing a

passage through the kneeling shadow warriors and pushing

them roughly aside as he rushed at Kruel, a dagger in his

hand.

 

Thane acted quickly and leapt on Rubel, knocking him to

the ground. Mulcade stooped from a cloudless sky and

hooked his talons on the dagger, taking it up out of Rubel's

reach.

 

'Be still, Rubel,' ordered Thane. 'You have done enough

this daylight to gain the shouts and praise of all Elundium by

carrying the sword out of the City of Night. It is I, and I

alone, who must hold Kruel's life in the palm of my hand, for

through my judgements, my strengths and my weaknesses

will Elundium grow and flourish in the sunlight.'

 

Turning slowly to Elionbel he took her hand and pressed

into it the tiny silver finger bowl he had carried through the

darkness and shadowlight of Kruel's reign of terror. Kneeling,

he gazed down at Kruel, searching for the slightest hint

of darkness. Esteron snorted and looked over his shoulder,

sniffing and blowing gently at the baby's soft form that now

lay helpless in the snow. Mulcade stooped swiftly and hooked

his talons on to Kerzolde's iron collar and stared unblinking

past the Nightbeast into the child's eyes.

 

'Yes,' whispered Thane, touching the owl's blood-sticky

talons, 'there is a likeness to Martbel, a straight look of

innocence in those pale blue eyes, perhaps . . .'

 

Mulcade hooted and rose to perch on Thane's shoulder.

Thane sighed and looked up at the shadow warriors who

waited with baited breath for his judgement. Beyond them he

saw Kruel's black standards shredding into nothing but

forgotten rags in the sunlight and made his decision.

 

Reaching forwards he carefully gathered up the helpless

child into his arms and rose to face Elionbel. 'I am a warrior

who sweeps all before him, yet my judgement shall show

 

mercy and my strengths will be forgiveness and compassion.

You have shown me that, Elion, and I love you for it. Take

the baby Kruel, for as you say he is our brother and we will

bring him up to love our sunlight.'

 

Elionbel smiled. Her eyes met Thane's with joy as she took

his hand and together they held the baby up for all to see. A

roaring shout echoed across the battlefield. Spear butts

clashed on shields and the thunder of it flowed up over the

Rising.

 

'You shall be a great King!' called a voice above the

neighing of the Warhorses and the barking of the Border

Runners.

 

Thane smiled and laughed, tears of joy running down his

face as he turned towards the Rising, but Nevian had gone,

the last colours of the rainbow cloak were melting in the

sunlight. The age of the Granite Kings had truly passed

forever.