The scent of roasting beef drifted across the field. Brother Solstice yearned for the taste of it, the salty-savoury, mouth-watering taste. Pushing the thought from his mind he tried to summon enthusiasm for the hot, salted oats he would consume that evening. Being a druid was not easy.
‘Daan’s greetings, Brother Solstice,’ said Tae, moving alongside him.
She was tall for a woman, just under six feet. He looked into her dark brown eyes, and tried not to notice the gentle curves beneath the white woollen gown she wore, concentrating instead on the silver circlet around her brow, holding her long, dark hair in place. ‘May the spirits bless you, child,’ he responded. ‘Are you enjoying the Games?’
‘I will enjoy them more when I am allowed to compete in them, Brother.’
It was, Brother Solstice considered, a delicious thought. Women taking part in athletic tourneys. Pictures flowed from the well of his imagination, and once more he considered the drawbacks of his calling.
‘Is your mother well?’he asked.
‘Yes. She always enjoys the Games. I think she misses the mountains. For myself I like the sea. I sit and watch it for hours – especially when it is angry and the sky is the colour of iron.’
Brother Solstice smiled politely and waited for her to come to the point. ‘Tell me,’ she said at last, trying to assume an air of mild interest. ‘Who was the young man you were speaking to before the six-mile race?’
‘I spoke to many young men, my lady. What did he look like?’
‘He was tall. He had a streak in his beard.’
‘Ah yes. That would be Connavar. He is from Three Streams.’
‘The man who killed the evil king?’
‘And fought the bear. Yes, the very same. Would you like me to introduce you to him?’
‘No, not at all. I was merely curious.’ She stood in uncomfortable silence for a while. ‘Is his wife with him?’
‘I do not believe he is yet wed. Nor even betrothed.’
Fiallach strode up to them. His massive upper body was clothed now in a shirt of red satin. ‘Greetings to you, Druid,’ he said. ‘Did you watch the bout?’
‘I did, Fiallach. Congratulations to you.’
‘Coming from a former champion, that is good to hear. Do you think you could have beaten me? When you were in your prime, that is?’
Brother Solstice smiled. ‘The awful truth about fighters, young man – myself included – is that they always believe they are the best. Indeed it is that necessary confidence that drives them on. Yet there is always someone better, somewhere. That is the nature of the world of men. I was extremely fortunate never to come across such a man while I was fighting. Let us hope the same good fortune follows you, Fiallach.’ As he spoke he laid his hand on Fiallach’s shoulder. In that instant he felt all the anger and the bitterness in the giant’s soul, but deeper still there was an abiding sadness and a need that surprised the druid.
Brother Solstice left them, and thought about what he had learned. At first sight Fiallach was a brutal and cruel man, who revelled in humiliating those he considered lesser men. But there was another Fiallach, buried deep, hidden among the roiling storms of bitterness, frustration and anger. Like a golden seed nestling in a cesspit.
Would it flower, or would it die?
Brother Solstice did not know.
Tae glanced up at the moon. It could barely be seen through the smoke of the cookfires. The music began again, and dancers began to leap and twirl. Tae sat back, relieved that Fiallach, who had moved away to get a drink, was now deeply engrossed in conversation with a merchant from across the water. While he was by her side no other man had asked her to dance. She glanced across to where Connavar was talking with a group of young men. Everywhere he went, it seemed, people wished to speak with him.
She was sure he had looked at her, but even when she stood close he had not spoken, and once, when their eyes met, he had not smiled. Was he, too, afraid of Fiallach?