Ewan Greenwood's Arc

Chapter 5 of 8

The tablet sat on the table in the cabin. Its scales caught the lamplight, green and orange and purple. Ewan's farmers could fight now. Garrick had drilled them for weeks. But a shield and a sword meant nothing if Ewan could not find the men who had burned the village. He had trained an army with no enemy to point it at. A woman rose from a chair in the corner. Ewan had grown used to her sitting there. She wore fine green robes and stood just behind whoever held the room. She called herself the team's advisor. Most days she said little. Now she stepped forward. "You look for the ones who set the fire," Lira said. Her voice was soft. "I know where they went." Callum set down the board he was fitting. "You knew this. And you sat quiet." "I waited," Lira said. "Angry men chase and die. Trained men win." She looked at the tablet. "You were not ready before. Now you are." Ewan crossed the room. "Tell me." Lira folded her hands. "I was in the hills the night the village burned. I saw riders leave. They rode north, into the high glens. There is a keep in a valley the maps do not mark. They shelter there." Seren looked up from the fire. He had tracked strange things across whole seasons. "How many?" he asked. "More than eleven," Lira said. Aisling stepped beside Ewan. Her hatred of magic ran deeper than his. Her hand touched the pendant at her throat. "Then we go north," she said. "We burn them out." "No," Ewan said. "We ward the next village first. Then we ride." Callum studied his brother. "You have what you needed. A place to go." "Aye." Ewan looked at the tablet. The thing he hated. The thing that could save lives. He picked it up. It was warm, though no flame touched it. "We know where they are." Lira did not move. "There is one more thing you should hear." "Say it," Ewan said. "The keep has wards of its own," she said. "Carved deep. Fire will not touch it. Blades will not break the gate." She met his eyes. "You cannot burn them out. You cannot cut your way in. Not with steel. Not with fire." The room went still. Aisling's hand dropped from her pendant. Garrick's drilled farmers, all their swords, meant nothing against a warded gate. Ewan felt the weight of the tablet in his hands. He had learned to carve wards to protect. Now he understood. To break into that keep, he would have to learn to break wards too. He would have to go deeper into the magic he had sworn to destroy. He set the tablet down. "Seren," he said. "Can a ward be unmade?" Seren was quiet a long moment. "Yes," he said. "But not by a man who hates it."