‘I fought in three battles,’ said Brother Solstice, touching the scar. ‘But that was before I heard the call.’
‘You read minds,’ said Conn, feeling suddenly uncomfortable.
‘Yes, but that would be discourteous. I merely noticed you staring.’ Brother Solstice wandered to the wall and gazed out over the land. ‘It is beautiful from here, high above the sorry troubles of the world. Look at the homes. Do they not seem tranquil and uniform? Yet each of them houses a host of emotions – love, lust, anger, greed, envy and hatred. And, to a sadly lesser degree, kindness, compassion, caring, selflessness. The view may be beautiful, but it is unreal.’
‘Where is your rat?’ asked Conn.
‘I see you are not interested in my philosophy,’ said Brother Solstice, with a rueful smile. ‘What does interest you, Connavar?’
Conn shrugged. He did not want to talk to this man of magic. And he cared nothing for the emotions raging within the little round houses below. But the druid stood quietly waiting for an answer. ‘The people of Stone,’ said Conn, at last. They interest me.’
‘They are the enemy to come,’ said Brother Solstice.
Conn was surprised. ‘You have had a vision?’
‘I don’t need a vision, Connavar. When the leaves fall from the trees I know winter is approaching. Across the water many druids have been murdered by them. They are a hungry people and their ambition is limitless. Is that why you asked for permission to cross the water? To study these war-bringers?’
‘Yes.’
‘And what exactly will you study?’
The answer seemed all too obvious. ‘Their armies and how they fight.’
‘That would be a beginning. But to defeat them you will also need to learn why they fight.’
Conn’s irritation was growing. ‘What does that matter?’ he snapped. Brother Solstice fell silent. He closed his eyes, and, for a moment only, Conn felt a cool breeze touch his face. A sense of calm flowed through him, submerging the anger he felt at Arian’s betrayal.
‘Can we talk now?’ asked Brother Solstice.
‘You cast a spell on me?’ replied Conn.
‘Not on you. Around you. It will prove fleeting. I would ask what is troubling you, but I fear such a question would bring back your anger. You are a strong young man, Connavar, but you need to offer your mind the same dedication you give your body. However, I do not wish to lecture you.’ He smiled. ‘But I would be interested to know how you acquired a Seidh blade?’
Normally Conn would have said – as he usually did – that it was a gift from Banouin, but, embarrassed by his earlier rudeness, and appreciating he was in the presence of a man who could detect lies, he told the truth: of his determination to seek help in the matter of his parents’ continuing separation, and of the fawn he found in the brambles. Brother Solstice listened intently. When Conn had finished the druid looked perplexed.
‘So – apart from the fawn – you did not see a Seidh, nor speak to one?’
‘No.’
‘How strange they are. But know this, young man, they had a purpose of their own. They saw in you something that would benefit them. Gifts from the Seidh are not without a price.’
‘What are the Seidh?’ asked Conn.
Now it was Brother Solstice who shrugged. ‘I could not begin to explain their origins. Some believe they are the souls of great heroes, living for ever in a world like our own; others see them as demons or gods. I do not have all the answers. What I do know is that they are vital to the land.’
‘In what way?’
Brother Solstice smiled. ‘You would have to become a druid and accept all our vows in order to learn that secret. But it should be enough for you to know they are a fey race, and often malevolent. And they are old, older than the moon and the oceans.’
‘Have you ever met one?’ asked Conn.
‘Only one, and we do not speak her name,’ said the druid.
‘Ah,’ said Conn. ‘I too have met her. She it was who sent the bear to kill me. And when I fought the killers she came to me and offered me a gift. I did not take it.’