Trinity by Clare Davidson Page A

huddled up in a
black cloak. A Guardian cloak.
    Unfortunately, the Guardian was
very much awake and watchful. Skaric glared at him and then looked
away. The last thing he needed was to look like a fool in front of
the man who could decide to kill him at any moment. He tilted his
head back against the rough bark of the tree and stared up at the
canopy. A myriad of shades of green stretched far above his head. A
few days earlier, that same canopy had sheltered the Wolves whilst
they prepared to attack the tower.
    “ Wolf.”
    Skaric looked round. Nidan was
chewing on a strip of dark meat.
    “ Do you want
some?”
    Skaric’s stomach growled. He
hadn’t eaten anything since setting out on patrol with Berend. He
shook his head.
    “ It’s food, not
poison.”
    Skaric narrowed his eyes. “You got
it from the Wolves’ provisions?”
    Nidan nodded.
    “ Six men,
travelling light. There won’t be much left. Save it for
yourselves.”
    He watched as Nidan continued to
eat the meat. It didn’t matter that he knew the meat would be too
chewy and too salty; just looking at food made his stomach hurt and
his mouth water.
    Skaric tried to take his mind off hunger by sizing up the
Guardian. Nidan was shorter than him but much stronger. If it came
to a fight, Skaric would lose. But the Guardian was injured,
whilst the worst of Skaric’s wounds—his side, hand and leg—had been
healed the night before as a result of Kiana’s bizarre sense of
compassion.
    Nidan had bandaged his own wounds
using supplies from the Wolves’ packs, but they were sloppy and
didn’t apply enough pressure. The wounds would get dirty and fester
if the Guardian wasn’t careful. Skaric bit his lower lip and looked
away. He didn’t care if the Guardian lived or died. It wasn’t his
problem.
    “ Was it easy for
you? Killing your own kin? Did you even know the name of the man
whose skull you bashed in?” Nidan said.
    Skaric stared at the forest floor.
“You didn’t think twice about killing them.”
    “ They were my
enemy. But your kin.” Nidan’s voice was cold.
    Skaric shut his eyes tightly.
“Dirk,” he said quietly. “His name was Dirk.” He recalled the faces
of the pack. One by one, he fitted names to them. “Dirk. Erich.
Jurgen. Bernt. Konrad. Rikert.” Skaric choked on each word as his
stomach tightened into knots. He wondered if his father or Berend
could have named each member of the pack.
    “ Leave him alone,
Nidan.”
    Skaric looked up sharply at the
sound of Kiana’s voice. She was sitting up with Nidan’s cloak
pulled tightly around her.
    Nidan shrugged as he handed her a
piece of the salted meat. She took two bites, which took her a long
time to chew.
    She glanced at Skaric and then at
the strip of meat in her hand. “Aren’t you hungry?”
    Skaric shook his head.
    Kiana frowned. “Have you had time
to think about coming with us?”
    Had he thought about it? Yes. But
he had to say no.
    “ We can’t trust
him, Kiana,” Nidan said in a flat tone. “He killed his kin in cold
blood. He doesn’t even feel any guilt or remorse about
it.”
    Kiana looked at Skaric
thoughtfully. He shifted uncomfortably beneath her gaze, wanting
the ground to swallow him up; it was as though she were looking
straight through to his soul, even though he knew that was
impossible.
    “ Yes, he does. He
just won’t admit it.”
    Of course he felt guilty. He had
known every one of those men and they had known him. They had
trusted him. Horror gripped Skaric as the realisation of what he
had done finally hit him. He wanted to run, to not have to face the
strangers before him. All he wanted to do was allow his emotions to
spill out. A grim smile touched his lips. Even that was a sign of
weakness in the minds of the Wolves.
    He wished he could direct his
magic to burn through the bonds. If it were possible, there would
have been nothing that the Guardian could have done to stop him.
Even the thought of such a tiny use of magic made Skaric’s