‘Did you find an answer?’ asked Leofric, intrigued.
‘I believe so. I cast the spell just outside Citadel town, inside a circle of ancient stones. They are believed to be Gateways to other worlds. In some way I believe I activated the Gateway. Even so, the creature was completely attuned to Sigarni. Therefore wherever it went, she would have been there also. Mystifying.’
Leofric refilled his goblet. ‘Does that mean the creature is still looking for her?’
‘It is possible. In fact, it is more than likely. The Gateways operate through time as well as space, and even now he is winging his way towards her. What a cheering prospect – I’ll drink to that!’
‘Why do you hate her so? Has she done you some harm?’
‘Good Heavens, Leofric, I do not hate her. I don’t hate anyone. Such a harmful emotion! I rather admire her, don’t you? But I need what she has. The blood royal! All the great spells require blood royal. And anything can be achieved with it, lead to gold, immortality – of a kind – physical strength. As limitless as the imagination.’
‘She’s just a Highland woman, for God’s sake. What royal blood does she carry?’
‘What blood? How arrogant of you, Leofric. Your own King does not carry the blood royal, though his grandsons might. Sigarni is the daughter of the great King, Ironhand, who was done to death by assassins centuries ago. He had a fortress near here, colossal and impregnable. Only the foundation stones are left.’
‘Then how could she be his daughter?’
‘She was carried through a Gateway in time. Do you not listen, my boy?’
‘I think the wine must be going to my head,’ Leofric admitted. ‘It all sounds like gibberish.’
‘Of course it does,’ said Jakuta Khan soothingly, leaning forward and patting the young man’s knee. ‘But that is the simple answer to your question. Her blood carries power, and I need that power. If there was a way to utilize it without killing her, I would. For I am not fond of death.’
Leofric refilled his glass for the second time. ‘You are a strange man, Jakuta. Perhaps you are insane. Have you thought of that?’
‘You are full of interesting ideas, Leofric. It makes you a joy to be with. Let us examine the premise. Insanity: not being sane. Yet how do we establish sanity? Would we, for example, look to the majority of people and claim them as normal and sane?’
‘That seems reasonable,’ agreed Leofric.
‘But the King is not normal like them, is he? He is an extraordinary man, as is the Baron. Does that make them insane?’
‘Ah, I see what you are saying,’ said Leofric, leaning forward and spilling his wine. ‘But then normality is not just a question of who farms or who rules. It is surely an ability to discern right from wrong, or good from evil, perhaps.’
‘Now the waters become even muddier, my boy. If a farmer sees a neighbour with a bigger section of land, and more wealth, and sets out to murder him, is he evil?’
‘Of course.’
‘But if a king sets out to destroy his enemy’s kingdom in order to swell his own treasury, then he, by that example, is evil also.’
‘Not so!’ insisted Leofric, aware he was on dangerous ground. ‘There may be many reasons why a nation goes to war. Security, for example, protecting one’s borders.’
‘Of course, of course,’ agreed Jakuta. ‘And this war? Against an enemy with no army to speak of, a pretend war for the purpose of self-glorification, is this evil?’
‘For God’s sake keep your voice down!’
‘Sanity is not easy to establish, is it, Leofric? All I know is that one man’s good is another man’s evil. That is the way life works: it favours the rich and the powerful, it always has and I suspect it always will. I am not rich, but I am powerful. I intend to become more powerful.’
‘As powerful as this Taliesen?’
‘Less and more. He is a curious fellow. He has vast resources, and chooses not to use them. You would like him, I think, Leofric. He knows more about the Gateways than any man alive. Yet he lives like a peasant, and dresses worse. He has a cloak of feathers that has seen better days, and he has allowed his body to become old and wizened. We have not conversed, but I would make a wager that he believes his powers to be a gift from some supreme source, to be used wisely and carefully.’