Valour by John Gwynne Page B

least while it was in his interest to do so. Or so Evnis hoped. Owain was unpredictable. It had been a gamble, helping the King of
Narvon gain entrance to the fortress, but Nathair had asked him for help, and so he had given it. The act of opening Stonegate had won much favour with Owain, but Evnis was not sure how much the
act of slaying a king had compromised that favour. Nobody liked that, especially not another king.
    ‘Time will be the judge,’ he muttered.
    ‘Aye. It usually is,’ Conall replied.
    The rest of their journey passed in silence. Evnis hardly spared a glance at the charred pile of ash that marked all that was left of Dun Carreg’s fallen defenders, the stench of their
burning still lingering in the air. He swept into the keep and marched through it into the corridors beyond until he reached Nathair’s chambers.
    One of the black-clad warriors that he had spirited into the fortress to such devastating effect was standing guard. The man ushered him into the chamber but blocked Conall as he made to
follow.
    ‘Only you,’ the man said to Evnis.
    Evnis nodded to Conall and those behind him as the guard closed the door.
    Nathair sat within, sipping a cup of wine. His bodyguard, Sumur, was standing beside an unshuttered window, sword hilt jutting over his shoulder. A handful of Nathair’s eagle-guard were
lounging at a table in the far end of the chamber, gathered about a half-eaten round of cheese and a leg of pork. They eyed Evnis suspiciously, then went back to their food. Evnis stared at them,
remembering their comrades in the keep the night Dun Carreg fell, arrayed about him and Brenin and Nathair in a wall of shields. They were all dead now, most of them cut down by Gar, the crippled
stablemaster. That night had left more than one mystery in his mind that begged to be solved.
    ‘Welcome, Evnis,’ the King of Tenebral said, standing and gripping Evnis’ wrist. ‘Thank you for coming so promptly. Are you hungry? Thirsty?’ He gestured to the
food and wine.
    ‘I have already broken my fast. Though perhaps some wine.’
    ‘Of course.’ Nathair filled a cup for him. ‘I was hoping that you might help me.’
    ‘If I may be of service, my lord.’
    ‘I am certain that you can. When I came here it was as part of a bigger journey: I planned to travel north. I still do. The issue is when to leave. Much has happened here that I think has
bearing on my alliance, on the future, but the situation here is fluid, prone to change. Dramatically. Would you agree?’
    ‘Your summary is quite correct, to my mind,’ Evnis said.
    ‘I am torn, Evnis. My errand in the north is pressing, but I feel that perhaps I should linger here a while longer, as these events play out. To ensure that the results are favourable to
me and my alliance.’
    ‘Most prudent, my lord.’
This is a man who thinks before he speaks. Where is he leading this conversation?
    ‘You are probably wondering why I am telling you this.’
    Evnis smiled and dipped his head in acknowledgement.
    ‘I believe that you are pivotal to this situation. And certain that you know more than you have told me.’
    ‘Do any of us tell all that we know, my lord?’ Evnis replied. ‘After all, knowledge is power.’
This is dangerous.
    ‘Wise words,’ Nathair said with a smile, ‘and words that I have heard before. But let me be frank with you. We are both in a position to help each other. I am in a strange
land, surrounded by war, a history guiding it that is unfamiliar to me. I need to make decisions, but I lack the knowledge to be confident that I am choosing the right course. You are familiar with
the politics of this realm, this conflict, well placed to see much. I need that knowledge. But you are surrounded by enemies – Owain, the man that took your own brother’s head, rules
here, so you need a friend, someone in power who has some influence. You need me.’ Nathair took a deep breath, fixing Evnis with intense blue eyes. ‘Tell