‘That he was. Here’s to him,’ and the High Thane took another great swallow of fortifying liquid. Snow was matting down his hair, melting and running on to his forehead. ‘Bad time to die, with his children off on this mad adventure in the south.’
‘They do as their fates require,’ said Theor. ‘But, yes, it might have been easier for all of us if he had lived a while longer, or if Kanin at least had remained in Hakkan.’
‘Yet you’ve got your little war maiden down there with them,’ chuckled Ragnor. ‘What a woman that one is! I’d give a lot for a few like her in my Shield.’
‘Shraeve is . . . her own woman,’ murmured Theor, ‘and not easily dissuaded from a course once she is set upon it. She believed Kolglas could be taken. When someone wishes so fervently to test their fate it is their right. Anyway, I do not interfere in the doings of the Battle Inkall. That is Nyve’s domain.’
‘Well, he’s trained himself a fierce raven in Shraeve. Still, she might have met her match in Wain. I pity poor Croesan. With Shraeve and Wain for enemies, and Gryvan oc Haig for an ally, he’s about as lucky as a man beset by wolves and finding nothing but a donkey to ride away on.’ He emptied the drinking flask and tossed it away to shatter amongst the rocks. He blew his cheeks out and turned up his collar. ‘It’ll be cold tonight. This cloud won’t last once the stars come round.’
They walked in silence for a short distance. The cart carrying the bear had become stuck again, and Ragnor glanced down the slope as its Tarbain escort strove to lever the jammed wheel free. They were shouting curses in their harsh language. The cart rocked forwards and back again. The haunches of the horses were turning bloody beneath the switches of their handlers. Ragnor gave a snort of disgust.
‘Never known how to manage horses, those people.’
‘There were none here until we came. Tell me, what do you think will happen if Wain and Kanin do not return from south of the Vale?’
‘Ah, you want to trade tales of spies? Well, I’m willing. Mine say those Gaven buzzards are eyeing up Horin lands already. Supposedly, Lakkan has ten years’ production from his silver mines put aside to offer me for them if Angain’s children die. What has the Hunt Inkall been whispering in your ear?’
The Lorekeeper shrugged. ‘Similar. But Orinn oc Wyn-Gyre covets them too, and would not willingly see them pass to Gaven-Gyre. Angain would have served you better by having a larger family, or keeping the heir he did have safe, at least.’
‘It’s his children who’ve failed me there,’ smiled Ragnor. ‘Kanin’s eyes are focused too close to home, and Wain herself is about as welcoming to suitors as that brute in the cage down there. It’s a poor example they set, when we spend so much time telling the common folk they have a duty to breed. Horin has always been a Blood to make more problems than it solves. I’d not shed many tears over its demise, even if it sets Gaven and Wyn at each other’s throats.’
‘No more than Gryvan oc Haig would shed for the Lannis Blood, I imagine,’ said Theor pointedly. ‘Do you think so?’
‘Your father always embraced the Inkallim with his confidence. There were no secrets between him and my predecessor, yet I find myself uncertain of your intent in allowing this war to begin.’
‘There were ravens there when Angain and I discussed it. Nyve himself on one occasion, I seem to recall. He made a number of helpful observations on Tanwrye’s defences.’
The First of the Lore Inkall looked grave. ‘And I am sure Angain was aware of your full intent, of course. Nevertheless, there were occasions when your father had plans afoot that did not find their way into the ears of the lesser Thanes. At such times, it was to the Inkallim that he turned. He did so when the Horin-Gyre Blood required chastisement in the past, you will recall.’
‘I do recall,’ the High Thane said lightly. ‘They were a still more unruly brood in those days. But come, if you suspect me of keeping secrets from you, say so. The Lore Inkall has always enjoyed the liberty of plain-speaking.’
‘I make no accusation. I am sure that whatever plots or devices you may have in progress are intended to further the cause of the Black Road . To strengthen the creed, rather than weaken it. Or give succour to its enemies.’
Ragnor stopped. After a couple of strides, Theor turned and looked back at the High Thane. Behind them, Ragnor’s Shield halted and the entire funeral procession shuffled to a standstill, puzzled at the sudden delay. No voices were raised in query or protest, though. The crowd simply stood in the gently falling snow and waited. When Ragnor spoke his voice was low, ensuring none save Theor could hear, but it was icily precise.
‘Not an accusation, but a threat perhaps? I would kill any man who suggested that any action of mine weakened the creed. Save one of the Lore Inkallim, given the privileged position your people enjoy in such matters.’
The First of the Lore smiled.
‘Such privileges do not extend beyond matters of the creed, of course,’ continued Ragnor.
‘Of course. But do not misunderstand me, High Thane. I make neither accusation nor threat. My only desire is to see an absence of secrets between Gyre and the Inkallim. We are the roots and boughs of the Black Road, the Gyre Blood and the Inkallim. In years past the creed has been saved, or renewed, time and again by the two of us acting in concert. Anything that undermines that unity gives me cause for concern.’
‘Yes. Well, you are custodian of the creed, and...’
The High Thane’s words were interrupted by a sudden chaos of cries and creaking wood. He and Theor both turned to see one of the carthorses rearing in panic. Its companion started forwards, twisting the cart round. The stuck wheel came free and bounced against a rock as it scraped sideways. The bear was roused by the tumult and half-rose on to its hind legs. The tribesmen yelled furiously. Ragnor saw what was going to happen a moment before they did, and muttered, ‘What fools.’
The bed of the cart tilted, shifting the cage, and the bear reeled sideways. With a slow inevitability, accompanied by a thunderous, splintering crash, cart and cage toppled over. The Tarbains shouted louder still. Both of the carthorses began to buck and struggle. Roaring, the huge bear tore its way out of the wreckage and raised itself up to its full height. The men scattered. One was a fraction slow, and the beast ran him down in a few strides. A single sweep of its paw knocked him flat and its jaws engulfed his head. The bear shook its prey from side to side, and the sharp snapping of the Tarbain’s neck was clearly audible to all in the funeral party. As the surviving tribesmen fled down the track, the bear stood over the body for a moment or two then swung around and glared at the throng a hundred yards or so up the slope.
‘I suppose we had better do something,’ said Ragnor. He gave a flick of his head and his Shield separated themselves from the other mourners. Crossbows were released from their bindings. The bear shook itself and came a few paces towards them. It reared up once more and roared.
‘Magnificent,’ the High Thane murmured. Some of his warriors knelt, the rest stood in a rank behind them. They were slotting bolts into place. The bear dropped on to all fours and bounded closer over the rocks. It rose again, bellowing defiance. Angain’s hound was barking furiously, as if imagining that his dead master was at his side still.
A dozen crossbows sang and their shafts flowered together in the bear’s chest. It swayed, fell forwards on to its forepaws, took a few unsteady steps and then slumped down. Its great flank heaved and they could hear its rasping breaths. One of the shieldmen drew his sword and strode down to administer the final blow.
‘A magnificent animal, don’t you think?’ Ragnor said to the Lore Inkallim. ‘As fearless in the face of death as any true believer could hope to be.’
‘Fearless or ignorant,’ Theor said absently. His eyes never left the bear as the warrior sank his sword into its neck. A slight frown settled over his features.