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He caught up with Al Hestian, finding the noble standing uncertainly over the kneeling figure of a young Cumbraelin, a boy of noin a murmured prayer His weapons lay at his side and his hands were clasped in front of his chest

Vaelin paused, catching his breath and wiping blood from his sword From the direction of the river he could hear the clamour of weapons and shouts of combat as his brothers finished the last of Black Arrow’sthe horrid spectacle of the ca in pain, streaks of blood discolouring the snoeen the blazing tents Al Hestian’sthe dead and finishing off the wounded

“What should we do with him?” Al Hestian said He face was streaked with sweat and ash, his expression grim The bloodlust evident in hisVaelin was very glad he had abandoned his bargain with the king

He will be angry, his watcher told hi, he replied He can have my life if he wants it At least I won’t die a lanced at the boy He seemed oblivious to their words or the sounds of death around hie Vaelin didn’t know, the prayer flowing fro his god to accept his soul or deliver hi death?

“It seeed the boy with his boot “Stand up! And stop yaed as he continued to pray

“I said get up!” Vaelin reached down to grab the boy’s pelt There was a rush on air on his neck as so by the hard s flesh He looked up to see Al Hestian staring at the black shaft buried in his shoulder, his eyebrows raised in a faint expression of surprise “Faith,” he breathed and collapsed heavily to the snow His liled with his blood

Vaelin whirled, catching a blur of powdered snow in a nearby cluster of trees Rage filled hi in pursuit of the archer with red roup of soldiers “See to his Lordship, he needs a healer!”

He ran full pelt into the trees, all senses alive to the song of the forest, searching, hunting There was a faint crunch of snow off to the left and he sprinted after it, his nostrils finding the scent of fear-born sweat He had never been so alive to the song of the forest before, never so possessed by the desire to kill His ht but the need for blood How long he hunted would always be lost to him, it was a dream of blurred trees and half-remembered scents as his quarry led him deeper into the forest He ran tirelessly, immune to any strain He knew only the hunt and the prey

The song of the forest changed as he entered a s the daas hting to control his heaving chest, searching with all his senses, straining for the faintest sign The clearing ell lit by the rising sun, the sunlight playing over an oddly shaped stone in its centre So his concentration on the forest’s song It stood about four feet in height with a narrow base rising to a wide flat top in a roughlycloser he realised it was not a natural feature at all but fashioned, chiselled froranite boulders that littered the Martishe

If his senses hadn’t been so alive he would haveHe ducked, the arrow passing over his head in a black streak The archer leapt froh, his war cry shrill and savage Vaelin’s sword slashed into thewith the hand that held it, the back-swing laying his throat open as he staggered back in shock He took only seconds to bleed to death

Vaelin sagged as his body woke to the end of the hunt, the ache of the battle and the chase seeping into his liht for breath He sturound, wanting nothing more than sleep His eyes were drawn to the archer’s corpse The lines and weathering in his slack features betrayed him as a man with more years than most of their enemies Black Arrow? Vaelin wondered but found he was too tired to search the body for any evidence of theof the forest returned as he lay there, head sagging to his chest, the bird song louder now A sudden warmth in his li bathed in bright sunlight Oddly the sun was now high overhead and he realised he must have surrendered to sleep Fool! He cli to brush the snow from his cloak… Except there was none No snow on his cloak or his boots No snow on the ground or the trees Instead the ground was covered in lush green grass and the trees were liberally adorned with leaves The air had lost the sharp chill of winter and through the forest canopy the sky was a deep shade of blue Summer It’s summer!

He looked around wildly Black Arrow’s body, if it was indeed his, was gone The stone structure that had drawn his gaze when he first entered the clearing was now bare of foliage, revealing a finely carved plinth of grey granite, its top perfectly flat save for a circular indentation in the centre Hethe surface

“You shouldn’t touch that”

He whirled, levelling his sword at the source of the voice The woht and dressed in a sin of which was co over her shoulders and fraular pale skinned face But it was her eyes that fixed him, or rather the fact that she had no eyes They were a milky pink in colour, devoid of pupils As she neared he saw they were shot through with a fine web of veins, like two orbs of redhim above a faint smile Blind? But how could she be? He could tell she was seeing hi about the set of her features triggered ahis head sadly and speaking in a language Vaelin didn’t know

“Seordah,” he said “You’re of the Seordah Sil”