Krulshards laughed at her, pushing her aside as he opened up the malice. "Magicians cannot help you, Thanehand cannot help. I take what I please! I am the Master of Elundium!" With a sneer of satisfaction he thrust Martbel back into the daylight. Stumbling forward, the b.l.o.o.d.y torn hems of her skirts wetting the granite dust, she fell into Elionbel"s arms. Her mouth was trembling, her eyes were wide with terror.
Krulshards reached out for Elionbel, a cruel snarl on his lips, but before his fingers could touch her the ground shook and a piercing cry tore the shadows apart. Pure blinding light spilled out of Candlebane Hall across the cobbles. Krulshards screamed as the light entered his malice, burning into his face. Turning, he fled scrambling down the nearest siege ladder.
Elionbel stood her ground, the light edging her cloak in blue and gold. "Even the bones of Elundium cry out against what you have done!" she shouted as the Nightmare dragged her after him. "Elundium will have its revenge, and I shall be its sword maiden, I swear it!" she cried, tumbling down the ladder, bruising her shins on the rough granite rubble as she
landed on the ground.
"I may not have taken the inner circle of this city but I have planted something more powerful and awesome here in its ruins. Come," commanded Krulshards, pulling at the life thread. "We travel a secret wild road back to the City of Night.
A road that is safe from roving bands of Marchers or columns of Gallopers seeking revenge for all that I have destroyed."
"Master!" Kerzolde gasped, climbing breathlessly over the
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rubble and falling at the Nightmare"s feet, "Thanehand has reached Woodsedge. He is on my heels and behind him on the road is the Marcher we trapped with the nightmesh."
"Thanehand?" the Nightmare snarled, staring back across the ruins at what was once the beginnings of the green winding road to Underfall. For a moment fear crossed his cruel face and the life thread tightened on Elionbel and Martbel"s throats then he laughed, spitting out fine trails of saliva on to the front of his malice. "He will never find us, Captainbeast. Look, the ground is spoiled and trodden black for leagues around the city. There is nothing here to tell the Gallopersp.a.w.n of our pa.s.sing. We leave no waymark save the destruction of the city!"
"Thane is alive and he will find us, Nightmare!" Elionbel shouted defiantly.
Krulshards turned fiercely on Elionbel. "You are lost for ever, Marcherwoman, lost in my darkness. There is no-one left to search for you. Thanehand is dead!"
"He is alive. I heard that foul, broken-clawed beast speak his name. He will never stop searching for us, no matter how dark the road."
"Quiet, Marcherwoman," Krulshards hissed, shrugging his shoulders against Elionbel"s whisperings as he summoned his Nightbeast army into a great shadow that covered the lower ruins of the city. Lifting his arms he spread the malice and waited for silence. "Nigh/beasts!" he cried, thrusting a bone black finger towards the trampled Greenway. "You have taken the Granite City and made it yours, go now into all Elundium and spread my darkness. Render everything that loves the daylight into ruins, but while you travel, sweeping as a black tide, search carefully for one called Thanehand, and if you find him bring him to the City of Night, for he is mine, mine alone to destroy!"
Amidst the roar and rattle of Nightbeast armour the black shadowy army spread out beyond the city. Kerzolde and his brother jostled Elionbel and Martbel to follow the Master of
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Nightbeasts into the wild lands beyond the outer edges of the Granite City and they vanished without a trace on the heels of the billowing malice, for Kerzolde and Kerhunge were careful
that nothing was dropped as a wayrnark for Thanehand.
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3.
The Battle Crescent is Formed
Tombel raised his hand and with a single twist of his armoured gloves he halted the swift column of marching men.
Without further command, the warriors unsheathed their broad, double-edged swords and drove them point first into the soft edges of the Greenway. Removing their metal helms they laid them, emblems facing inward, on the short cropped gra.s.s and knelt in respect as the slow-moving Archer funeral pa.s.sed between them. Tombel saw Kyot leading the strike of Archers that followed the funeral litter, each bowman with an arrow necked lightly on to the string.
"Whom do you bury?" Tombel asked in a whisper, falling in step with the young Archer.
"My father lies on the litter of oiled bows," he answered grey-faced with grief. "He defended this Wayhouse alone against Krulshards, the Master of Nightbeasts, and paid cruelly with his life!"
-"Then the Nightmare is before us on the road!" Tombel gasped, looking up at the sinking sun.
"He is at least one daylight ahead of you, my Lord,"
answered Kyot. "My father"s body was cold long before I dismounted."
"Where do you bury your father?" Tombel asked, looking past the litter along the broad and empty Greenway.
"My father was the Keeper of this tower. It was his wish to walk the Buryman"s path as far as a true-aimed arrow will fly from the platform in the top of the tower. Once around the
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arrow we carry him, then back to the grave niche beside the great wooden door. This was carved out by the armourers long ago. Father will watch over us even in death. It is the custom."
"He was the greatest Archer in all Elundium," Tombel whispered as they walked around the spent arrow.
"And his grave niche will be set with one hundred silver arrows. He will not want for a bowstring nor oil to wet and supple the bow, it will be placed before him each daylight as the sun rises," whispered Kyot, blinking back the tears in his eyes. They had pa.s.sed into the shadow cast by the tower and stood, heads bowed, before the grave niche. Carefully Kyot pulled back the blue and gold cloak that covered his father"s body, lifted him off the litter and set him into the niche. The armourers moved forward and with swift strokes they hammered
the silver arrows into the stone wall of the tower. Kyot knelt and kissed the tattoo mark on his father"s arm.
"I will avenge your death, even though Nevian was against it," he whispered, pouring cedar oil on to the bow resting against Archer"s shoulder.
"Will you take the Keepership if the King deems you fit to take such a post?" Tombel asked as Kyot rose and turned away from the grave.
"Nevian has already pledged me to it," Kyot answered as Sprint trotted forward neighing a greeting, "but first I will seek revenge on the Master of Nightbeasts, for he tortured my father to death."
"You would take the Keepership without the blessing of the King?" Tombel cried as Kyot sprang lightly into the saddle.
"No," answered the young Archer, his eyes hard with anger.
"First I will seek out the Crystal Maker, Fairday of Clatterford, for he alone can forge gla.s.s arrow-heads to pierce the Nightbeast"s heart, and then, well-armed, I shall stand at Thane"s right hand and rid this land of Krulshards. Only then, when the great Bow of Orm is silent, will I take the Keepership, King willing."
"Will you ride alone?" asked Tombel, searching the courtyard for signs of other Archers preparing for the road.
But Kyot only laughed and pointed out along the dusty Greenway towards Notley Marsh. "I have other friends, my Lord, who have helped me through great danger. Loyal friends who sleep lighter than a downy feather and are fearless in the dark. Look, here come the Border Runners who defended me against the Nightbeasts on the road to Underfall, they will help me to find Clatterford."
Tombel stepped hastily backwards as two huge savage dogs bounded into the courtyard and ran to Kyot"s side. Turning towards Tombel, their hackles rose razor sharp along their backs and their lips curled in long-toothed snarls. Crouching, step by step, they advanced, hard amber eyes fixed on Tombel. "Be easy, Tombel is a friend," laughed Kyot, calling the dogs back to sit by his stirrups. "You see, my Lord," he smiled, reaching down to rub his hand through their thick sable coats, "I am better armed than I look!"
"Go, then, with my blessing, and follow the sun to Clatterford,"
shouted Tombel with an edge of relief in his voice after Sprint"s receding hoofbeats.
The Marchers crowded into the courtyards of Stumble Hill, filling them to overflowing. "Rest until eventime. Eat and be ready for the road before the sun sets," called out Tombel.
"It is all so wonderful. The colours, the touch and feel, the smells, so wonderful; so much better than the Elders" stories!"
Tombel turned and smiled, seeing Willow standing between the broken doors looking out across the flat gra.s.slands that led towards the Granite City.
"Perhaps the stories would have held more colour if your Elder had seen the daylight!" laughed Tombel, moving to Willow"s side and putting his hand upon the young Tunnel
ler"s shoulder.