‘Better Lannis than the Inkallim and the Bloods of the Black Road . The White Owl will learn that soon enough.’ He turned back to Aeglyss. ‘Was your mother or your father of the White Owl?’
The younger man hesitated, taken unawares by the question. For a moment it seemed that he might not answer.
‘My mother,’ he said. ‘And my father was of the Horin-Gyre Blood, so have a care what you say, old man.’
Inurian regarded him for a moment. ‘You must have been born not long after the battle at Tanwrye thirty years ago,’ he said. ‘Your father escaped into Anlane after the Horin-Gyre army was defeated? He was taken by the White Owl?’
The blow came too quickly for Inurian to avoid it. Aeglyss struck him hard across the side of the face, knocking him to the ground. Anyara lunged at Aeglyss, but he pushed her away. Inurian lay there for a few seconds, then righted himself. Blood oozed from the corner of his mouth. It was washed away by the rain.
Aeglyss laid a single finger upon Inurian’s chest. His eyes were brimming with cold anger. Anyara could see a muscle clenched so tight in his jaw it might have been a rod of iron laid over his bones. She had a terrible, momentary sense that the na’kyrim was about to burst and spill some awful, burning spirit of anger and hatred over them.
‘Better not to speak of things you know nothing about,’ Aeglyss hissed, and rose to his feet. ‘Let’s wait and see what Kanin wants to do you with you,’ he called over his shoulder as he stalked back to join the Inkallim.
Anyara turned to Inurian, a look of concern on her face. Inurian spat inelegantly.
‘I’m fine,’ he said. ‘His parentage would appear to be a sensitive subject.’ He leaned a little closer to Anyara. ‘Have a care of that one. Whatever happens to me, keep away from him. He may be more dangerous than I thought.’
‘He seems dangerous enough already,’ Anyara muttered.
Inurian shook his head. ‘It’s mostly bluster. Beneath the surface, he’s all bound up in a knot of anger and pain. He is poisoned by it. Nevertheless, there is more power in him than he knows. When he’s angry like that, I can feel the Shared in him like a thundercloud. If he knew how to draw upon it, he would be capable of a great deal.’
‘In any case,’ said Anyara with forced lightness, ‘nothing’s going to happen to you.’
Inurian smiled at her. ‘Just remember. Stay away from him.’
There was a sudden flurry of activity amongst the Inkallim. They were getting to their feet. Peering out through the grey rain, Inurian and Anyara could just make out a group of riders coming towards them across the farmland.
‘It’s Kanin,’ said Inurian. ‘The Bloodheir is coming.’
The heir to the Thaneship of the Horin-Gyre Blood was a tall, strong man in his late twenties. His heavy black hair was matted down by the rain. It gave him a roguish, rather bedraggled look. Had Anyara not known who he was, she might have thought him handsome. Instead, she felt the stirring of hatred. Of all the Bloods of the Black Road, it was Horin-Gyre, with its strongholds at the northern end of the Vale of Stones, that had always posed the greatest threat.
A dozen warriors of his Shield had come with the Bloodheir. Their mail hauberks rang softly as they dismounted. They tied their horses at the edge of the copse, ignoring the Kyrinin amongst the trees, and came back to stand in a loose group behind Kanin nan Horin-Gyre.
Aeglyss went to greet the Bloodheir. Kanin brushed past him without even meeting his gaze. He looked around, his sharp eyes running over the Inkallim who were coming one by one from beneath their shelters, the Kyrinin warriors now getting to their feet amongst the trees, and finally Inurian and Anyara, bound upon the wet grass. He smoothed his hair back from his face with a leather-guantleted hand, watching the prisoners intently.
‘Who is the halfbreed?’ Kanin asked. His voice was strong, imbued with the instinctive authority that was his birthright.
‘Kennet’s counsellor,’ said Aeglyss eagerly. ‘We thought he might be of some value.’
Kanin walked towards Inurian and Anyara. His warriors followed. He knelt on one knee and took Inurian’s chin in his hand, forcing his head around so that their eyes met.
‘I have heard of you, I think. Inurian, is it?’
Inurian remained silent. Kanin released him and turned to Anyara.
‘The Thane’s niece, I presume,’ he said. There was a hint of suppressed mirth in his eyes and the set of his mouth. ‘A pretty prize.’
Anyara scowled at him.
‘But not in a pretty mood, it would appear,’ said Kanin as he rose to his feet. ‘You had better accustom yourself to new arrangements. This valley is returning to its rightful owners.’
‘You have tried that before, and failed,’ said Anyara tartly.
The Bloodheir laughed. It was a rich sound. ‘Not this time. This time the past will be buried.’
He turned towards the Inkallim. ‘Kolglas?’ he asked.
One of the warriors stepped forwards, all languid precision and restrained power.
‘Burned,’ he said.
‘And Kennet and his son?’
‘The Thane’s brother is dead. The boy escaped across the water, but was wounded. He is probably dead by now.’
A tiny moan escaped Anyara’s lips. Kanin ignored her.
‘Probably,’ he said, sarcasm tingeing his tone. ‘So a child has escaped the famed Battle Inkall. All the Lannis line was to be dead or taken. That was important.’
The Inkallim’s mouth tightened.
‘We answer to Shraeve. She commands the Battle Inkall here, not you.’
For a moment, the two men faced one another in the drizzle. Watching them, Anyara understood more clearly than before that the Inkallim were something more than just warriors. This man glaring at the son of the Horin-Gyre Thane did so with the silent will of an equal, drawing upon some strength, some core, that removed any need for deference.
Kanin relaxed and wiped his face. ‘Very well. You’ll find Shraeve somewhere by the market square. You can tell your story to her. At least we have the Thane and his brood shut up in his castle.’ He shivered, then smiled at Anyara and Inurian. ‘This weather of yours is inhospitable. We had best get you to shelter in the city. I’ve picked out fine accommodation for you.’
He turned on his heel and made to remount his horse. He stopped abruptly, as if remembering something inconsequential that had slipped his mind until this moment. He looked at Aeglyss.
‘I do not want the White Owls to come any further, halfbreed. Tell them if they are seen any closer to the city than this, we will treat them as our enemies.’
Aeglyss blinked, starting almost as if he had been struck.
‘I thought . . .’ he began.
Kanin raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. A flicker of contempt slipped into his voice as he spoke.
‘You would not be so rash as to argue with me?’ he asked. ‘The White Owls have what they wanted—the Lannis Blood broken—and we have no further need of them.’
‘Your father said…’
‘Do not overplay your hand, halfbreed. My father lies in his sickbed in Hakkan, and I carry his authority here. This is Horin-Gyre land now, and I will not have wights wandering freely across it. You may enter Anduran if you wish, but not them.’
‘The White Owl will be . . . disappointed,’ said Aeglyss. ‘Others—some of their leaders—are not far behind us. They will wish to meet with you, to confirm the pledges made by your father. The settlements in Anlane are to be razed, a gift of cattle and iron made. I promised them these things on your behalf, as your father wished.’ Anyara noted a strange, soothing kind of resonance slipping into the na’kyrim’s voice.
Kanin’s expression suddenly darkened and he took a resolute step closer to Aeglyss.
‘If I thought, for even a moment, that you would seek to play games against me with your voice, halfbreed, I would split your skull. I know well enough what tricks you are capable of. You may have clouded the minds of the woodwights with your sweet tones, and since they have served my needs because of it, I’ll not complain. But do not make the mistake of thinking you can attempt the same with me.’