‘One more winter, then. But even if he survives and still loses his herd to a younger bull it is the feasting pit for him.’
‘Bad winter coming, I think,’ said Arbon, swinging his horse and riding out over the hillside.
Ruathain turned for home. Of course it would be a bad winter. Just as it had been a bad spring, summer and autumn. There were no good times without Meria. He still saw her daily, watched her walking to the stream or sitting in the sunshine. But he had not had a conversation with her in three years. Ruathain ensured that food was delivered to his old home, and coin when he had it. And he spoke often with his sons. Yet most nights he would dream of her. They were together again and he was lying beside her in a sunlit meadow, stroking her hair and gazing into her green eyes. Then he would wake, and groan as reality struck home like a cold knife to his heart.
He spoke to no-one of his anguish, and tried to conduct his life as he always had.
Without the joy it was not possible, and most everyone in Three Streams became aware very swiftly that Ruathain was not the man he had been. Gone was the bluff good humour, the easygoing charm. In their place was a restless man, short tempered and hostile.
In the spring he, and five other men, had ridden out to intercept some Pannone cattle raiders. In the short fight that followed
Ruathain had killed two. It was unusual for men to die in such raids. Prisoners were often taken, and held for small ransoms, but on those rare occasions when men died the deaths were usually accidental – a clumsy fall from a horse, or a rider caught in a stampede. On this day Ruathain had charged in among the Pannone, his iron sword singing out. Two men had gone down instantly, the others throwing down their weapons.
Ruathain had ridden towards the prisoners, his eyes bright with battle fury. Arbonacast cut his pony across his lord’s path. ‘It is over now, I think,’ he said. For a moment the Rigante riders thought he would strike his own man, but Ruathain had dragged on his reins and ridden back to Three Streams.
Although he did not speak of it he thought of the two dead men often. Both had been young and on their first raid. An initiation into manhood. Neither had expected to die. Ruathain felt great guilt over the slayings. He could have – should have – unhorsed them with the flat of his blade. He was thinking of them now as he rode down to his house. Unsaddling the pony he turned it out into the paddock.
As he did so he heard the sound of hoof beats and swung to see a rider galloping across the eastern bridge. It was another of his herdsmen, Arbon’s son, Casta, who should have been gathering stock in the southern hills. The young man dragged on his reins.
‘What is it, boy?’ asked Ruathain.
‘Rogue bear, Lord. It attacked three children outside a Norvii settlement. Killed two, made off with the third. They hunted it, and claim to have wounded it. But it was last seen heading west through the woods.’
They drove it into our lands and didn’t have the guts to follow it.’
‘It seems so, Lord. They say it is big – the largest bear they have ever seen.’
‘Where did they corner it?’
‘Six miles east of the Riguan Falls.’
Fear touched Ruathain. His boys had gone swimming at the falls.
‘Gather the men,’ he told Casta. ‘Bring lances and ropes.’ Running into the house he buckled on his iron sword and lifted his hunting lance.
CHAPTER FIVE
despite the cold, riamfada had no wish to leave the water. He knew this was the last day he would swim that year, for winter was approaching fast, and there had already been flurries of snow in the hills. He floated on his back then rolled and watched the late afternoon sunlight sparkling on the waterfall. A rainbow sprang into life to the right of the falls. Riamfada stared at it, lost in wonder. Then a wispy cloud drifted past the sun and the rainbow faded. If only I could work with such colours, he thought. High above him he heard Govannan call out. Glancing up he saw the smith’s son leap from the ledge and spin into a dive. Govannan surfaced, flicked the water from his long hair, and swam over to him.