‘Let her through,’ she called. The woman gave the black men a wide berth and walked up the hillside. She was thin of face, with a prominent nose, but her large brown eyes gave her face a semblance of beauty. ‘You wish to speak with me?’ said Sigarni.
‘I do. I am Layelia, the wife of Torgan.’
‘There is no place for him among my officers,’ said Sigarni sternly. ‘He is a fool.’
‘That is a trait shared by most men I have met,’ said Layelia. ‘But then war is a foolish game.’
‘Have you come to plead for him?’
‘No. He will regain his honour – or he will not. That is for him. I came to speak with you. I have questions.’
Sigarni removed her cloak and spread it over the snow. ‘Come, sit with me. Why not more questions? That is my life now. Endless questions, each with a hundred answers.’
‘You look tired,’ said Layelia. ‘You should rest more.’
‘I will when there is time. Now ask your questions.’
The dark-haired woman was silent for a moment, staring deeply into Sigarni’s pale blue eyes. ‘What if we win?’ she asked, at last.
Sigarni laughed. ‘If we lose we die. That is all I know. My God, I certainly have no time to think of the aftermath of a victory that is by no means certain.’
‘I think you should,’ said Layelia softly. ‘If you don’t, then you are just like a man, never seeing beyond the end of your nose.’
Sigarni sighed. ‘You are correct, I am tired. So let us assume the hare is bagged, and move on to the cooking. What do you want?’
Layelia chuckled. ‘I have heard a lot about you, Sigarni. You have lived a life many women – myself included – would envy. But I don’t envy you now, trying to adjust to a world of men. I ask about victory for a simple, selfish reason. I have children, and I want those children to grow in the Highland way, with their father beside them, learning about cattle and crops, family, clan and honour. The Outlanders threaten our way of life – not just by their invasion, but by our resistance. Tell me this, if you beat the Baron, what then? Is it over?’
‘No,’ admitted Sigarni. ‘They will send another army.’
‘And how will you combat them?’
‘In whatever way I can,’ said Sigarni guardedly.
‘You will be forced to attack the Lowland cities, sack their treasuries and hire mercenaries.’
Sigarni smiled grimly. ‘Perhaps.’
‘And if you defeat the next army, will that end the war?’
‘I don’t know!’ snapped Sigarni, ‘but I doubt it. Where is this leading?’
‘It seems to me,’ said Layelia sadly, ‘that win or lose our way of life is finished. The war will go on and on. The more you win, the further away you will take our men – perhaps all the way to the Outland capital. What then, when the outlying armies of their empire gather? Will you be fighting in Kushir in ten years?’
‘If I am, it will not be from choice,’ Sigarni told her. ‘I hear you, Layelia, and I understand what you are saying. If there is a way I can avoid what you fear, then I will. You have my word on that.’
The dark-haired woman smiled, and laid her hand on Sigarni’s arm. ‘I believe you. You know, I have always thought the world would be a better place with women as leaders. We wouldn’t fight stupid wars over worthless pieces of land; we would talk to one another, and reach compromises that would suit both factions. I know that you have to be a war leader, Sigarni, but I ask that you be a woman leader, and not just a pretend man in armour.’
‘You are very forthright, Layelia. A shame you were not so forthright with Torgan.’
‘I did my best,’ said the other, with a wry smile, ‘but he was not gifted with a good brain. He is, however, a fine partner in bed, so I will not complain too much.’
Sigarni’s laughter rang out. ‘I’m glad he is good at something.’
‘He is also a good father,’ said Layelia. ‘The children adore him, and he plays with them constantly.’