Fell looked into Gwalch’s twinkling brown eyes. ‘You are insane, Gwalch! You always were.’
‘Life is to be lived, boy. Without danger there is no life. Come and have a dram. We’ll talk, you and I, of life and love, of dreams and glory. I’ll tell you tales to fire your blood.’
Fell found his longbow and quiver, gathered the fallen arrows and followed the old man inside. It was a simple one-roomed dwelling with a bed in one corner, a stone-built hearth in the north wall, and a rough-hewn table and two bench seats in the centre. Three rugs, two of ox-skin, one of bear, covered the dirt floor, and the walls were decorated with various weapons – two longbows, horn-tipped, several swords and a double-edged claymore. A mail shirt was hanging on a hook beside the fire, its rings still gleaming, not a speck of rust upon it. On a shelf sat a helm of black iron, embossed with brass and copper. A battle-axe was hanging over the fireplace, double-headed and gleaming.
‘Ready for war, eh, old man?’ asked Fell as he sat down at the table. Gwalch smiled, and filled a clay cup with amber liquid from a jug.
‘Always ready – though no longer up to it,’ said the old man sadly. ‘And that is a crying shame, for there’s a war coming.’
‘There’s no war!’ said Fell irritably. ‘There’s no excuse for one. The Highlands are peaceful. We pay our taxes. We keep the roads safe.’
Gwalch filled a second cup and drained it in a single swallow. ‘Those Outland bastards don’t need an excuse, Fell. And I can smell blood in the air. But that’s for another day, and it is a little way off, so I won’t let it spoil our drinking. So tell me, how did she look?’
‘I don’t want to talk about her.’
‘Ah, but you do. She’s filling your mind. Women are like that, bless them! I knew a girl once – Maev, her name was. As bright and perfect a woman as ever walked the green hills. And hips! Oh, the sway of them! She moved in with a cattle-breeder from Gilcross. Eleven babies – and all survived to manhood. Now that-was a woman!’
‘You should have married her yourself,’ said Fell.
‘I did,’ said Gwalch. ‘Two years we were together. Great years. All but wore me out, she did. But then I had my skull caved in during the Battle at Iron Bridge, and after that the Talent was on me. Couldn’t look at a man or woman without knowing what was going on in their minds. Oh, Fell, you’ve no idea how irksome it is.’ Gwalch sat down and filled his cup for a third time. ‘To be lying on top of a beautiful woman, feeling her warmth and the soft silkiness of her; to be aflame with passion and to know she’s thinking of a sick cow with a dropping milk yield!’ the old man laughed.
Fell shook his head, and smiled. ‘Is that true?’
‘As true as I’m sitting here. I said to her one day, “Do you love me, woman?” she looked me in the eye and she said, “Of course I do.” And do you know, she was thinking of the cattle-breeder she’d met at the Summer Games. And into her mind came the memory of a roll in the hay with him.’
‘You must have thought of killing her,” said Fell, embarrassed by the confession.
‘Nah! Never was much of a lover. Roll on, roll off. She deserved a litde happiness. I’ve seen her now and again. He’s long dead, of course, but she goes on. Rich, now. A widow of property.’
‘Are all the weapons yours?’ asked Fell, changing the subject.
‘Aye, and all been used. I fought for the old King, when we almost won, and I fought alongside the young fool who walked us on to Golden Moor and extermination. Still don’t know how I battled clear of that one. I was already nigh on fifty. I won’t be so lucky in the next one — though we’ll have a better leader.’
‘Who?’
The old man touched his nose. ‘Now’s not the time, Fell. And if I told you, you wouldn’t believe me. Anyway I’d sooner talk about women. So tell me about Sigarni. You know you want to. Or shall I tell you what you’re thinking?’