DAVID A. GEMMEL. SWORD IN THE STORM

The race marshal raised his hand. The thirty runners took up a ragged line.

‘Away!’ bellowed the marshal. As they raced away down the hill Connavar and the druid wandered to the food area. Brother Solstice purchased a jug of ale. Connavar declined to join him in a drink.

‘I was pleased to see Ruathain and Meria reunited,’ said the druid. ‘They are good for one another.’

‘Aye, it’s good to see the Big Man happy,’ Connavar agreed. ‘Where is the Long Laird today? I had hoped to speak with him.’

Brother Solstice pointed to a group of nobles at the far edge of the field, clustered together beneath a black canopy. ‘You see the woman dressed in green, with the white-streaked long red hair?’

‘Yes.’

‘She is Llysona, the Laird’s wife. They became . . . estranged. Today is her day. By agreement the Laird will not be present. They have not seen each other for – what? – eight years. She dwells now on the eastern coast.’

Connavar said nothing. His gaze was fixed on the group. ‘Who is the tall young woman beside her? The one in the white dress.’

‘That is Tae, her daughter.’

‘She is very lovely.’

‘Indeed she is. The powerful man hovering close by is Fiallach. Some say she will wed him in the spring.’

‘The big man in the red shirt?’ asked Conn. Brother Solstice nodded, his gaze resting on the huge figure looming beside the slender Tae. Fiallach was just over six and a half feet tall, powerfully built, with a barrel chest and huge shoulders. His yellow hair was braided into a ponytail, and he sported no moustache or beard, which was rare among the Rigante. His eyes were wide set in a large face, his brows flat, as were his cheekbones. No sharp bones to split the skin under the fists of an opponent, thought the druid. Conn spoke again, repeating the question. ‘The man in the red shirt?’

‘Aye. You will see him later in the final of the Fist Fight. He will win it too.’

‘He looks old.’

Brother Solstice laughed. ‘Yes, he is thirty. The grave beckons.’

Conn grinned. ‘I meant old for her. What is she, sixteen?’

‘Seventeen. Would you like me to introduce you?’

Conn shook his head. A middle-aged man approached them. Connavar introduced Parax to the druid. Brother Solstice looked at the man closely, noting the sharpness in his deep-set eyes. Parax stared back at him in the same appraising manner. Brother Solstice grinned. ‘Tough as old oak. But a good man,’ he told Conn.

‘I know that, Brother.’

‘I’m still here,’ grumbled Parax. ‘I’d sooner you waited till I’d gone before talking about me.’

‘But he does get tetchy,’ said Conn. ‘I think it’s because he’s getting old.’ Parax swore. Conn adopted a look of horror. ‘And he has no manners, Brother. To say such a thing in front of a druid? Disgraceful.’

Brother Solstice clapped Parax on the shoulder. ‘My apologies to you. I meant no disrespect. It is good to see Conn has found a worthy friend.’

The druid walked away, crossing the field to watch the spear throwing. The match was won by a young Pannone.

Less than an hour later Brother Solstice cheered with the other members of the crowd as the six-mile race came to its conclusion. Braefar crested the hilltop in second place, but put in a fast finish to beat a runner from the southern Rigante.

Then the final of the Fist Fighting began. Fiallach won it brutally, smashing punch after punch into the face of his opponent. The man’s hands were fast, the power of his punches awesome. Brother Solstice did not enjoy the bout. It seemed to him that the yellow-haired Fiallach took too much pleasure in inflicting pain. He could have finished the man far more swiftly. Instead he toyed with him, causing humiliation as well as defeat. The druid found himself wishing that he was still a fighting man. He would have loved to step into the circle and give Fiallach a taste of his own brutality. Closing his eyes Brother Solstice whispered a calming prayer.

As the Silver Wand was presented to Fiallach, the fighter moved to the edge of the crowd, throwing his arm around the tall, slim Tae, and kissing her brow. The druid noted that she pulled away from him slightly and, though she smiled, she seemed irritated by the contact.

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