Torgan sat quietly, waiting for the old warrior to laugh in her face. He did not. Instead he walked slowly forward and dropped to one knee before her. ‘My sword and my life,’ he said.
Sigarni swung to the crowd. Throwing up her arm, she pointed to the line of horse-drawn wagons making their slow way over the crest of the hill. ‘Those wagons you see are loaded with the spoils of war, taken from the fort on Farlain land. My forces took that fort two days ago. Even as we speak, the Pallides fort is falling to us.’
Harcanan rose. ‘How many men did you lose?’ he asked.
‘None,’ she told him. ‘Assemble the council, for I would address them.’
Harcanan bowed, and Sigarni turned to Torgan. ‘I could – and probably should – kill you,’ she said. ‘But you are a Highlander, and not without courage. Be at the council meeting.’
Torgan rose and stumbled away, his mind reeling.
Gwalchmai was sober. It was not an uplifting experience. As he sat in the log hall, surrounded by the younger children of the encampment, he found himself yearning for the sanctuary of the jug. There were several older women present, dishing out the last of the milk to the eager young, and about a dozen younger mothers sitting in a group, holding their babies and talking animatedly. Gwalchmai could not hear their conversation, for most of the smaller children had gathered around him and were asking questions he found it hard to answer. For some weeks now his powers had been waning, and he found himself unable to summon visions. It was ironic, that now of all times his Talent should desert him. He had often prayed to be released from the gift – the curse – and now that it had happened he felt terribly alone, and very frightened.
The clan needed him – and he had nothing more to give.
‘Why do they want to kill us all, Gwalchmai?’ asked a bright-eyed young boy of around twelve. ‘Have we done something wrong?’
‘No, nothing wrong,” he grunted, feeling himself hemmed in by the youngsters.
‘Then why are we being punished?”
‘It’s no good asking me to make sense of it, lad. It’s a war. There’s no sense in war.’
‘Then why are we doing it?’ questioned another boy.
‘We don’t have a choice,’ said Gwalchmai. There was still a little left in the jug, he remembered. But where had he put it?
‘Are we all going to be killed?’ asked a girl with long red hair. Gwalchmai cleared his throat. A man’s voice cut in and Gwalchmai looked up to see Kollarin, moving through the youngsters. The younger man grinned at Gwalch, patted his shoulder and then sat down beside him. ‘When a thief enters your house,’ he told the children, ‘to take what is yours, then you either allow him to roam unchecked or you stop him. When a wolf pack attacks your cattle, you slay the wolves. That is the way of the hunter. The Outlanders have decided to take all that is yours. Your fathers have decided to stop them.’
‘My father is a great hunter,’ declared the girl. ‘Last year he killed a rogue bear.’
‘Not on his own,’ said the boy. ‘My father was with him. He shot it too.’
‘He did not!’ A squabble broke out between the two. Kollarin’s laughter boomed out.
‘Come, come, clansmen, this is no way to behave. I did not have a father – well, not that I recall. I had a mother who could shoot a bow, or wield a sword. Once, when a lioness got in amongst our sheep she strode out to the pasture, carrying only a long staff, and frightened it away. She was a fine woman.’
‘You are an Outlander,’ said the first boy, his earnest gaze fixed to Kollarin’s face. ‘Why do you want to kill us?’
‘I never wanted to kill anyone,’ Kollarin told him. ‘There are many … Outlanders, as you call them, from many nations. They have built an empire; I am from one part of that empire. They conquered my country a hundred and ten years ago. The Outlanders are not, by nature, evil; they do not eat babies, or make blood sacrifices to vile gods. Their problem is that they believe in their own destiny as masters of the world. They respect strength and courage above all else. Therefore the strongest, the most ruthless, tend to achieve high rank. The Baron is such a man; he is evil, and because he leads in the north his evil spreads through the men under his command.’