‘Will the Stone army be at Goriasa?’ he asked.
‘No. They have not yet advanced into the lands of the Ostro or the Gath. The last war was against the Aiddui, about eighty miles to the east. The general, Jasaray, won two great victories on the coast there. He will now be solidifying his gains. I would not expect a war against the Gath for at least another two years, maybe three. No, I think the Perdii will be the next tribe to face the Stone Panthers. Jasaray was probably planning the Perdii war even before he marched against the Aiddui.’
‘What kind of plans?’ asked Conn.
Banouin smiled. ‘War for the Rigante is like a lightning storm, fast, furious, and swiftly completed. Not so for the people of Stone. They seek to conquer and hold the territories they win. What is the most important consideration for a general?’
‘Courageous fighters,’ answered Conn, instantly.
‘No,’ said Banouin, ‘it is food and forage. It does not matter how courageous your soldiers are if they are starving. An army of twenty thousand men needs an immense amount of grain, dried fruit, meat. Every day. Five thousand horses need hundreds of acres of grazing. Every day. When Jasaray advances into enemy lands he will need to be supplied. Therefore he will now be wooing various tribal chieftains – the Gath among them – who are hostile to the Perdii. These chieftains will supply his army when he marches.’
A light rain began to fall. Moving across to the ponies Banouin untied a canvas sheet which he carried back to the bow rail. Stretching it out he lifted it over his head. Conn took the other end and together they sat under the sheet, as the rain began to increase. The constant pattering against the canvas made conversation impossible and both men sat silently, lost in their own thoughts.
Connavar was thinking of Riamfada, and wondering, not for the first time, whether the crippled youth would still have been alive had he carried him home when first he complained of tiredness. There was no way he would ever know, and the guilt hung over him like a dark mantle. They had buried Riamfada on the edge of the Wishing Tree woods, which was highly unusual, but Vorna had insisted that the burial site was fitting. She had sat quietly with Gariapha and Wiocca, out of earshot of the other mourners, discussing it. Riamfada’s parents seemed comforted by Vorna’s words. Riamfada, his frail body wrapped in blankets, had been carried on a two-wheeled cart to the edge of the woods. There Gariapha, Connavar and Govannan had dug a deep grave. Vorna gave a short oration, commending Riamfada’s spirit to the gods, then the mourners poured wine over the grave, covered it with turf, and moved back down to the settlement.
As they walked back Govannan came alongside Conn. ‘Do you regret saving him?’ he had asked. Conn had found the question astonishing.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Look at what you suffered. And it only brought him a few weeks of life. Was it worth it?’
‘What do you think?’
Govannan shrugged. ‘Do not misunderstand me, Conn. I miss him already. And I feel heart-struck by his death. It is just … I don’t know. It all seems so pointless. He lived in constant pain, couldn’t walk, couldn’t even control his bladder and his bowels. Now he’s dead at seventeen. It feels . . . unfair.’
Vorna, who was walking behind them, stepped forward. ‘You cannot judge the quality of Riamfada’s human life. You did not live it. He died happy. Not many do. Believe me.’
‘Why do you say human life?’ asked Conn.
‘I saw him run across the grass,’ answered Vorna, but when Conn made to question her further she merely smiled and touched her finger to her lips. ‘All things in their own season,’ she said. ‘We will talk of this again.’ She moved away to where Banouin was waiting at the foot of the hill.
‘Can you believe it?’ whispered Govannan. ‘Vorna. Married!’
‘I am pleased for her,’ said Conn. ‘And for Banouin. He has been lonely for too long.’
On the day they left, Vorna embraced Banouin publicly and gave him a cloak brooch of bronze, inset with a blue opal. ‘This brooch carries a charm,’ she said, softly. ‘It will find a way to return to me. Keep it with you always.’