Trinity Rising: Book Two of the Wild Hunt (Wild Hunt Trilogy 2) (36 page)

Blindly she put out a hand to support herself, but Teir was not there. He had returned to the war band lest he was missed, and there was only the cold stone of the cave wall to keep her upright. She clutched at it, sure she was about to fall.

‘People of the Crainnh!’ Ytha spoke clearly, distinctly. The acoustics of the chamber amplified her voice so all could hear her. Triumph throbbed in every word.

‘As you can see, Maegern the Eldest has favoured us with two of Her Hounds, Her aid, just as She promised. They stand here before you as proof of Her word. With the Wild Hunt at our side, we can be assured of victory. We will succeed where Gwlach failed and sweep the invaders from our lands once and for all. We will buy back the honour of our people with the southerners’ blood!’

The war band roared their approbation. Spears drummed on the floor in time with the cheering.

Still dizzy, Teia pushed herself away from the wall. She had to move, take advantage of the diversion whilst it lasted. She would only have one chance at this. With a quick tug on Finn’s reins she began to circle the meeting place to the side furthest from the platform.

It was slow going. The chamber was so crowded that there was little room for her laden horse to pass; she had to nudge elbows and press backs to clear a way for him. Most of the clansfolk moved without a backward glance, too enthralled by Ytha’s speech and her hulking companions to pay attention to people moving behind them, but Teia felt one or two curious gazes latch on to her as she passed. Her heart leapt in her throat. Her hands were sweating but her mouth was so dry she had no spit to swallow.

Closer now, the crowd a little thinner. Everyone watched the Speaker and her monstrous allies as she spoke of the glory to come, exhorting them to still wilder cheering. Finn’s hoofbeats would surely be smothered in all that din.

Beneath her boots she felt the first rise in the floor. She had made it to the ramp; now came the most dangerous part. In order to reach the passage she needed she would have to ascend until she was at the same height as the Speaker and clearly visible to everyone in the crowd. Surely someone would call out and give her away.

Finn’s head rose clear of the crowd; she ducked in front of him to walk on the other side and let his bulk hide her. Now his neck, followed by the saddle horn. Sick with fear, Teia kept walking. As the ramp rose it began to curve around behind Ytha, so that the more exposed she became the further the Speaker would have to look around in order to see her. Not far now. Just a few more yards and she would be safe.

Someone in the crowd gasped and Teia felt a terrible crawling on the back of her neck, as if fire ants had been tipped down her dress. Ytha’s presence blasted into her thoughts like an ice-storm.

I see you, Teia
.

She stopped, her feet suddenly too heavy to lift. Peering under Finn’s whiskery chin she met Ytha’s gaze. The Hound at the Speaker’s side cast baleful eyes in her direction and grinned.

‘Come out where we can see you, child.’

Slowly she stepped past the horse to face her Speaker. Now that she was caught she felt calm, resigned. This was it, the endgame. She had a fair idea how it would play out. Teir had told her she was gambling on a single throw of the bones, but truthfully she had laid her bet against an even fainter hope than that. Now there was nothing left to lose.

She dipped into the music of power and spun an orb of cool pale light above her head. ‘Can you see me now, Ytha?’ she asked. Her voice was steady.

‘Where are you going?’

‘I’m leaving the clan.’

At Ytha’s shoulder she saw Drwyn frown and reach as if to touch the Speaker’s arm. Ytha tilted her chin a fraction and his hand fell back to his side.

‘I see. And where do you propose to go?’

‘As far from you and your folly as possible. I’m only sorry that I can’t take everyone with me to spare them what is to come.’

‘And what is that? The Hounds are already here, Teia. Our victory awaits us.’

Teia took a deep breath. She could keep silent no longer; she had to speak what she had seen and hope someone heeded her. Maybe even Drwyn could be persuaded to listen to reason. But then she met his gaze and realised that the Hounds’ arrival had crushed that fragile hope like a warhorse trampling new grass. He might be more tolerant of her now, even respect her a little, but he had eyes only for glory.

‘If you ride out with the Hunt, Ytha, it will turn on you.’

The Hound lying at Ytha’s feet hoisted itself onto its paws and turned to face her, holding itself utterly still. From deep in two throats came growls like a mountain yawning.

‘You know I have seen it. You saw the truth of it for yourself, when you took me for a blood scrying.’

Ytha’s lip curled. ‘I saw a child’s imaginings, that was all. You have played me false for years, girl, hiding your Talent from me in defiance of clan law. Why should I give credence to any words spoken by a proven liar?’

A sigh rippled through the crowd assembled below the platform. A thousand eyes turned on Teia, but she was wrapped in her magic and the weight of their gaze slid off her like water.

‘It was a foretelling. In your heart of hearts you know it to be true. The Raven is not to be trusted. She has given you Her word, but no proof that She means to keep it.’

‘These Hounds are Her proof!’

‘Those Hounds do Her bidding, Ytha, not yours.’

‘Teisha, what are you doing?’

Teia looked down. Her mother was pushing through the crowd, scything folk aside with her plump elbows. Her face was crumpled with worry.

‘I’m doing what I have to do, Mama. Someone has to point out her folly whilst there is still time to undo it.’

Mocking laughter echoed around the chamber.

‘Listen to the child!’ Ytha scoffed. ‘She dares talk to her clan Speaker of folly. You are the one being foolish here, Teia. Heed your mother and return to your home. Your chief will be expecting his woman at his hearthside.’

Teia lifted her head. ‘No.’

Ytha’s sandy brows arched. ‘This will be the last time you defy me.’

Anticipating the whip-crack of compulsion, Teia threw her magic into a shield around herself before it struck. A clanging, discordant note sounded in the song inside her as power met power and was shattered. Ytha flinched.

‘And that will be the last time you try to compel me. I am not afraid of you any more.’

With a snarl the Speaker snatched for her magic again but thanks to her lessons Teia was quicker. A hand of solid air slapped Ytha across the mouth and sent her staggering backwards.

‘Wretch!’ she shrieked. A drop of blood trickled from her lip, black in the pearly light. On her hand, the starseed winked.

Hammer-blows struck Teia’s shield and rebounded harmlessly, though every one made the shield quiver like a drum-skin. Even Finn appeared to sense it, whickering and tossing his head against the reins in her hand.

Over and over Ytha lashed out. Each weaving was wilder than the one before, less refined, then finally the Speaker clenched her fists at her sides and threw back her head. ‘Kill her! Kill the traitor!’

Drwyn grabbed her shoulder. ‘No! She carries my son, Ytha!’

‘Take your hands off me!’ Ytha snatched at his hand, raking the back of it with her fingernails when he would not relax his grip.

‘I command you as your chief.’ His dark eyes glinted dangerously.

She rounded on him and jerked herself out from under his hand. ‘And I am your Speaker,’ she raged. ‘Hounds, kill her! Eat your fill!’

The two yellow-grey beasts exchanged the briefest glance and then dropped their rumps to the stone.

Ytha glared at them. ‘Up! Up, I say!’

‘You cannot command them, Ytha,’ Teia said. ‘I told you. They answer to no one but the Raven Herself. Now I am going and you will not try to stop me. Our ways part here. May the Mother take pity on the Crainnh.’

Chirruping to Finn, she walked the last few yards up the ramp. The heaviness was gone from her feet; nothing Ytha could do would stop her now. Nonetheless the space between her shoulder blades itched in anticipation of an arrow from one of Drwyn’s men.

‘Go, then,’ the Speaker spat after her. ‘Go to the Lost Ones and see what welcome awaits you, if the winter does not finish you first!’

‘What of my son, Ytha?’ cried Drwyn. ‘Stop her!’

Teia turned her feet towards the passage that led up to the open air and kept walking. She had tried her best. There was nothing more she could do now except leave.

Distorted shouts echoed up the sloping tunnel from the meeting place, soon drowned out by the hollow
clop
of Finn’s hooves as he plodded along beside her. She tried not to think about the enormity of the task she had set herself, which rolled and boomed around inside her head like a plains thunderstorm. Instead she clung tight to her belief that she was doing what she had to do as if it was a coal in a fire-pot that would give her a warm fire one day, if she could just keep it alight through the storm.

Finn snorted and shook his head as he caught the scent of outside. She patted his sturdy dun shoulder affectionately. ‘At least I have one friend left, eh?’ she murmured. Running footfalls sounded behind her. A hard hand snatched her arm and spun her around to face Drwyn. He had a long knife in his fist.

‘I cannot let you go, Teia,’ he said. ‘One wife bore me naught but a daughter. The plague robbed me of the next and took my boy along with her. I will not lose another son.’

‘No, Drwyn.’ She shook her head. ‘You’ll have to find yourself another brood-mare. You’ll get no sons from me.’

He pulled her towards him, the knife level with her throat. ‘I will have my heir, if Ytha has to cut him from your womb.’

The knifepoint pricked the tender skin at the base of her neck. Teia wrapped his hand in air and pushed it away from her. In his face, consternation warred with rage as she overpowered muscle and bone with only her will.

‘I carry a daughter, my chief. I am of no value to you.’

‘You lie!’

Teeth gritted, he tried to press the knife home again but his effort succeeded only in making his boots skid backwards on the wet rock. He crashed to his knees and the knife skittered away down the slope.

‘I speak nothing but the truth,’ Teia said. ‘I know what I have seen and I know the truth of it.’

Her light drifting at her shoulder, she turned her back on him and with Finn at her side continued her climb out of the caves. Behind her, Drwyn howled.

Teia closed her ears to it, concentrated on setting one foot in front of another as she walked away from everything she had ever known. There could be no going back now. She had tried to warn Ytha, tried to make her see reason, and she had failed. She had tried to show her clansfolk the truth, and she had failed. She would have to find another way to avert disaster.

Only one force had turned back the massed war bands before and that lay to the south. She prayed that the iron men of the Empire would listen to her when her own Speaker had not.

21

YTHA

By Aedon’s swinging balls, the girl had struck her. How
dare
she?

Ytha dabbed at her mouth with the back of her hand and tasted blood. Her lip stung as if a physical blow had landed instead of mere air; she explored it with her tongue and felt torn skin where it had been cut by her teeth. The girl had
struck
her.

Fury boiled through her veins, heating her face, roaring in her ears. The temptation to go after the girl and deal back what she had been dealt was almost overwhelming. No one defied a Speaker like that – no one! And to do it with the Talent, in front of the clan . . .

Her fists knotted in her mantle, crushing the snow-fox fur.
I am the Speaker of the Crainnh, you insolent
cuinh!

With deep breaths she mastered herself again. As Speaker, she must always be in control of herself, even more so as the Speaker to a Chief of Chiefs. Layer by layer, she rebuilt the composure she had lost whilst the temptation to lay about her with her fists, to smash and rend, capered around the edges of her awareness. She could not afford to surrender to it, not before her people, or she would lose them for ever.

Below the water-formed terrace on which she stood, the clanspeople milled uncertainly. Whispers scurried around the meeting place like rodents, furtive and anxious. Glances darted between her and the passageway, from which the fading
clop
of hooves could still be heard.

She had to rescue the situation, and quickly.

‘People of the Crainnh!’ Her voice snapped their attention back to her again. ‘Do not be deceived by a frightened child. Our course holds true, and we will be victorious. Put your trust in the Eldest and your chief, and no harm will come to you.’

The crowd stared at her. They weren’t convinced; they needed something more.

‘Was it true what she said?’ someone asked. ‘Will the Hunt turn on us?’

‘Whose word do you trust?’ Ytha scoffed. ‘A foolish girl’s, or Maegern’s?’

Mutters flitted through the crowd at her casual invocation of the Raven. Let them mutter; she was not afraid.

A plump, homely woman pushed to the front and stood with her hands on her round hips, frowning. Teia’s mother – what was her name? Ana? ‘My daughter is no fool, Speaker. If she says she has seen this, I believe her.’