‘I have known great joy,’ she said. ‘Gwalchmai was a fine foster-father, and I have lived a free life in the Highlands.’
‘Even so, I wish it had been different.’
‘It is never wise to long for days past,’ she told him. ‘They cannot come again. What will you do when we get back? Will you announce yourself and lead the army? You are much more suited to the task than I.’
‘I think not,’ said the giant. ‘You are the new Battle Queen. Let it be so. I will advise – and take an hour or two to smite the enemy,’ he added with a grin.
‘Ifwe get back,’ pointed out Ballistar. ‘There is no certainty. What if you are wrong about this war, Sigarni? What if the sun does not shine again?’
‘I am not wrong,’ she said. ‘I sensed it from the moment the bow sprouted leaves. This is a land in torment. Everything here is unnatural. When the war ends, so will the upheavals of nature -I am convinced of it.’
‘I think you are correct,’ said Ironhand, ‘but the fact remains that for the war to end, both sides must agree terms. After fighting for this long, such a decision will be hard. There is something else too, daughter. If there is no peace, and the King refuses to give you the Crown, what then?’
‘We will leave without it – and fight the Outlanders without the aid ofthePallides.’
‘I’m hungry,’ said Ballistar. ‘Do you think they would allow us a cooking pot? We still have some oats?’
‘You could ask,’ said Sigarni, gesturing towards the silent guards at the door. But the request was refused, and the trio moved around the museum, studying the various artefacts.
Towards dusk several servants entered, filling the oil-lamps and lighting more. Huge velvet curtains were drawn across the high, arched windows.
At last the King returned. He was wearing armour now, and looked even more weary than he had in the morning. ‘Their siege engines were destroyed,’ he said, ‘but the death toll was very high. I have asked for a truce, and will meet with their King outside the walls in an hour. I want you with me when I speak with him.’
‘Gladly, sire,’ said Sigarni.
More than fifty lanterns had been set on poles outside the main gates, and a score of chairs were set out in two lines often, facing one another. The night was pitch-black, the lanterns barely giving out sufficient light to see more than a few paces. ‘Fetch more,’ ordered the King, and two officers moved away into the blackness. The King, now dressed in a simple tunic of blue, sat down, with Sigarni on his left and Pasan-Yol on his right.
Twenty more lanterns were set out.
They waited for some time, and then saw a slow-moving column of men walking from the enemy camp, their King in the lead, wearing silver armour embossed with gold. He had no helm and Sigarni saw that his lean face showed the same edge of weariness as that of the man beside her.
He did not look at the waiting party, but strode directly to a chair opposite the King of Zir-vak and sat down.
‘Well, Nashan,’ he said at last, as his twenty-man escort fanned out behind him, ‘for what purpose do you call this meeting?’
The King told him of Sigarni’s arrival, and of the miracle in the rose garden. The enemy leader was less than impressed.
‘Today you destroyed a few siege towers, but they proved their worth, did they not? You were hard pressed to stop them. I have now ordered fifty to be built, then Zir-vak will fall. You think me a fool, cousin? You seek to stave off defeat with this nonsense?’
‘It is all nonsense, Reva. We fight a war our grandfathers began. And for what? For the honour of our Houses. Where is the honour in what we do?’
‘I will find honour,’ stormed Reva, ‘when I have your head impaled on a lance over the gates of Zir-vak.’
‘Then you may have it,’ said the King. ‘You may take it now. If that will end the war and bring the sun back to our lands, I will die gladly. Is that all you desire?’