Bloodchild. Anna Stephens

thin chest was heaving under her rags; the grip of her hand was fierce. ‘Save us, Two-Eyed Man. Save us all.’

      And there it was, another burden for Crys to bear. And yet how could he say no? If he could do it, then he had to do it. ‘I will go to the tor. I will do all I can to fix this so that you are recognised as priestess again and the land remembers its people and its people the land.’ He kissed her hand. ‘I see you, priestess. There is no dam between us.’

      ‘I see you,’ she whispered. ‘I see. He is the Two-Eyed Man,’ the priestess called out in a wavering voice. ‘He will restore the gods to us. Follow him.’

      A storm of muttering rose from the gathered Krikites, abuse hurled towards the old woman. Crys held his arms out in a barrier as a few began edging forward with clenched fists. Would they tear her apart for daring to speak out? Was this how far their faith had fallen – or been claimed by the Seer-Mother?

      Crys headed towards the crowd and they fell back before him. ‘War leader, you will guarantee the priestess’s safety. I want three warriors you trust to look after her while we are gone. This behaviour towards the priesthood – regardless of the Seer-Mother’s pronouncement – is unacceptable.’

      She withered beneath his anger and the noise of the dissenters faltered. Wordlessly she pointed to three Krikites and they shoved out of the crowd and passed Crys with bowed heads, taking up position around the priestess. One of them murmured reassurance to her.

      ‘Does some distant woman’s word mean more to you than decency and respect for those in your community? Does it mean more than the harmony of the land and the voices of the gods? Is this how you show your allegiance?’ Crys was disgusted and made no effort to hide it, uncaring whether he alienated those who were wavering in their decision to follow him. In light of their inability to think for themselves or treat each other with respect, he wasn’t sure he wanted them at his back when it came time to face down the Red Gods.

      Ash and Dom fell in on either side as he stepped forward and then Cutta and her warriors behind, with Sati sliding into their ranks. Crys didn’t look back to see whether any others joined him as they marched through the parting crowd. He had a war to win but, first, he had to get to Seer’s Tor and cut out the rot that was infecting Krike.

      Seer’s Tor? the Fox God barked. No. My tor.

       RILLIRIN

       Seventh moon, first year of the reign of King Corvus

       Fort Four, South Rank forts, Western Plain, Krike border

      Rillirin squinted into the approaching night and jabbed her spear at the pell, pulling back, stepping and then striking upwards with the butt. It skittered off the wood and past, but if it’d been a person, it would have broken their knee, she was sure. She spun to the imaginary enemy behind her and lunged; Dalli’s spear parried and then the shorter woman had her weapon at Rillirin’s throat.

      Rillirin froze in shock – she hadn’t even known the Wolf chief was there – and then sidestepped, batting Dalli’s spear down.

      ‘You’re dead,’ Dalli said. ‘Never hesitate in battle because you’re surprised; train until defence is as instinctive as breathing.’ She flipped her spear around her head and drove it for Rillirin’s temple; Rillirin staggered back, her parry clumsy and weak.

      ‘You’re dead,’ Dalli said again. ‘Don’t get distracted by your opponent’s words.’

      Rillirin gritted her teeth and lunged, then feinted left and snapped the head of her spear towards herself, driving the butt in a flat arc. Dalli knocked it up and countered with a strike that finished a hand’s width from Rillirin’s eye.

      ‘You’re dead. You need to commit to a feint, otherwise your opponent knows what you’re doing and will ignore it to prepare for your true strike.’

      Growling now, Rillirin lunged hard for the centre of Dalli’s chest; the Wolf sidestepped and snatched Rillirin’s spear, jerking her forward and finishing with a short jab towards Rillirin’s gut. She shrank back, dropping the spear to protect her belly and the child nestled within.

      ‘You’re dead. Don’t let anger make you clumsy. If you over-extend, you’re off balance and your enemy will take advantage.’

      Rillirin snatched up her spear by the end and flailed it for Dalli’s knee, then backed away, trying to set her hands. Dalli slammed the shaft of her own spear down and ricocheted Rillirin’s spear tip off the flagstones. As it bounced back up in Rillirin’s stinging hands, Dalli skipped past it and put a knife against her cheek.

      ‘You’re dead. If you lose your weapon too close to the enemy, draw another. Don’t step into their range to pick it back up.’

      Panting, Rillirin eased away from the knife and then raised her spear and lifted the fingers of both hands from where they wrapped the wood to signal she wasn’t going to attack. Dalli sheathed her knife and stepped clear anyway.

      Rillirin grounded the butt and let it take some of her weight. ‘Is that what I am then?’ she asked as sweat trickled down her back. ‘Your enemy?’

      Dalli shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Are you?’

      Rillirin wiped her free hand across her face. ‘We were friends not too long ago, or I thought we were.’

      ‘People change. Loyalties change. Yours is quite clear.’

      ‘And Gilda made it quite clear that my baby is innocent. Even if you won’t believe me, you should believe her. Everything Gilda’s been through and you think she’d lie about something like this?’

      Dalli spat. ‘Everything she’s been through, aye. Like Dom trying to kill her. Like him betraying Rilporin and everyone inside it. Like him being a Darksoul.’

      ‘He didn’t choose any of those things!’

      ‘How do you know?’ Dalli flared. ‘You haven’t seen him in months. You’ve just got a memory of him you’ve put up on a pedestal and you can’t see past it to the truth.’

      ‘Neither have you. All you’ve got is rumour and hearsay and things glimpsed during battle that have been distorted or misremembered.’

      Dalli shook her head in disgust. ‘Gods, but you’re naive. Will you damn us all, that child included, by believing he can be saved?’

      Rillirin slammed the butt of her spear into the stone, the flat crack echoing across the drill yard. ‘Yes! Because he taught me that anyone can be saved, including me.’ Dalli flinched but Rillirin held up her hand. ‘No, you’ve said enough. Just, just fuck off, will you? I don’t need your poison poured in my ear. Dom’s the only one of your precious Wolves who saw past my accent and the things I was forced to do and loved me despite it all. Who understood not everything that happens to us is a choice. If you can’t see that, then just leave me alone. There’s talk of sending the civilians away somewhere safe – if there is such a place. I’m sure you know more about it, being chief, as well as the lover of someone respectable. You’ve made it clear I’m no warrior, and I’m pregnant too, so I’ll stay out of your way until it’s time and then I’ll leave with the other civilians, go wherever Mace thinks I won’t be able to infect anyone with my treason.’

      Her face twisted with bitterness. She turned on her heel and stalked across the drill yard. When Dalli called after her, tentative and too quiet, it was easy to pretend she hadn’t heard, to pretend there were no tears clogging her throat. She wouldn’t cry for Dalli’s spite. Rillirin stalked up the southern watchtower’s steps and out on to the allure, staring into the night. Krike was out there somewhere and for a mad, intoxicating moment, she thought about slipping out of the fort and crossing the border, losing herself in a foreign land and never coming back.

      There was a fluttering