DAVID A. GEMMEL. SWORD IN THE STORM

‘See … to the . . . ponies?’ ventured the man.

Conn smiled and turned his attention to the other two, who were sitting very quietly watching him. ‘What about you? Do you disagree?’ The men shook their heads.

‘Excellent! Then we all understand one another.’ Conn sheathed his blade, turned his back and strode to where Banouin waited.

As they stepped outside Conn glanced at his companion. ‘I am sorry, Foreigner. I do not have your diplomatic skills.’

‘You have nothing to apologize for. Diplomacy must always be backed by strength. You handled that situation well. There was no other way. They were spoiling for a fight. Now, perhaps, they will think again. However, if you will permit a criticism, the first right cross was a little clumsy. You hit him off your back foot. It robbed the blow of real power. I thought I taught you better than that.’

Conn laughed.

‘What would I do without you, teacher?’

‘Fairly well, from what I’ve seen,’ replied Banouin.

Removing saddles and packs from the eight ponies they groomed them, forked hay into the paddock, and fetched water from the river. Then Banouin made a camp beneath a spreading oak, preparing a small fire. The night was clear, the stars bright.

Soon after sunset a young woman approached them. She was scrawny, her clothes ragged. For a share of their meal she promised to ‘pleasure’ both of them.

‘That is very kind,’ said Banouin. ‘But you are welcome to join us anyway. It would be nice to entertain a guest.’

The girl stood for a moment. ‘I have a child,’ she said.

‘Bring the child also,’ said Banouin. ;

The girl moved away to a nearby hovel, and returned carrying a toddler. Banouin prepared a broth, seasoned it with spices, then produced two flat loaves which they had bought the previous day in a settlement to the west. The girl said nothing throughout the meal, and Conn noticed that she fed the toddler before devouring her own broth and bread.

‘Have you been here long?’ Banouin asked her.

‘Two years, I think.’

‘Where is the boy’s father?’

‘He went away,’ she answered. ‘Left one night. Never came back.’

‘Where are you from?’

‘Long Branch. It is a Perdii settlement.’

‘I know it,’ said Banouin. ‘It is less than three days’ walk from here. Why do you not go home?’

She did not reply. The toddler, his belly full, was asleep in her arms. She looked immensely weary. ‘I am ready to pay you now,’ she said.

‘There is no need of payment, child. Take your son to bed. And if you wish to travel with us tomorrow I will take you to Long Branch.’

‘There is nothing for me there,’ she said. ‘There is nothing for me anywhere. Except for my little one.’ Kissing the toddler’s head she pushed herself to her feet and walked away.

‘She is no older than me,’ said Conn.

‘Old enough to know sorrow,’ observed Banouin. ‘I am going to get some sleep. Wake me in four hours, then I will stand watch. Wake me earlier if they come. Do not try to tackle them all alone.’

‘They won’t come for us,’ said Conn. ‘I read the fear in their eyes.’

‘Confidence is to be applauded, arrogance avoided,’ quoted Banouin, settling down under his blanket.

The lands of the Perdii were heavily wooded and increasingly mountainous, which pleased Conn, for it was more like home, and in truth his spirit was restless for sight of Caer Druagh and the home fires of the Rigante. Yet Banouin grew more tense once they had crossed the Perdii river, and, as he rode, constantly scanned the countryside.

‘What are you looking for?’ asked Conn.

‘Trouble,’ answered the Foreigner, tersely. He seemed in no mood for conversation, and the two riders journeyed on in silence for most of the morning. By dusk Conn was casting around for a place to rest the ponies and enjoy a meal. They had made a brief stop at noon, finishing the last of the bread. As the sun was sinking Conn saw a stand of oak trees, that dipped down into a valley. From where they rode Conn could see the distant, glittering ribbon of a stream, shining gold in the dying light. Moving alongside Banouin he pointed down to the valley. ‘A good place to camp?’ he asked.

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