‘You’re turning into a sour old man, Tovi.’
‘And you are getting fat!’
‘Aye, that’s the truth. But I still remember the wearing of the Red. That’s something I’ll take to the grave, with pride. As will you.’
The baker nodded, and his expression softened. ‘Bonny days, Grame. They’ll not come again.’
gave them a fight, though, eh?’
Tovi shook his head. ‘We showed them how brave men die – that’s not the same, my friend. Outnumbered and outclassed we were -their knights riding through our ranks, cutting and killing, our sword-blades clanging against their armour and causing no damage. Gods, man, it was slaughter that day! I wish to Heaven I had never seen it.’
‘We were badly led,’ whispered Grame. ‘Gandarin did not pass his strength to his sons.’
The smith sighed. ‘Ah, well, enough dismal talk. This is a new day, fresh and untainted.’ Spinning on his heel, the burly blacksmith strode back to his forge.
The boy, Stalf, said nothing as Tovi re-entered the bakery. He could see his master was deep in thought, and he had heard a little of the conversation. It was hard to believe that Fat Tovi had once worn the Red, and had taken part in the Battle of Golden Moor. Stalf had visited the battle site last autumn. A huge plain, dotted with barrows, thirty-four in all. And each barrow held the dead of an entire clan’s fighting men.
The wind had howled across Golden Moor and Stalf had been frightened by the power and the haunted wailing of it. His uncle, Mart One-arm, had stood with him, his bony hand on the boy’s shoulder. ‘This is the place where dreams end, boy. This is the resting place of hope.’
‘How many died Uncle?’
‘Scores of thousands.’
‘But not the King.’
‘No, not the King. He fled to a bright land beyond the water. But they found him there, and slew him. There are no Mountain Kings now.’
Uncle Mart walked him on to the moor, coming at last to a high barrow. ‘This is where the Loda men stood, shoulder to shoulder, brothers in arms, brothers in death.’ Lifting the stump of his left arm, he gave a crooked smile. ‘Part of me is buried here too, boy. And more than just my arm. My heart lies here, with my brothers, and cousins, and friends.’ •
Stalf dragged his mind back to the present. Tovi was standing by the window, his eyes showing the same faraway look he had seen that day on the face of Mart One-arm.
‘Can I take some bread to me mam?’ asked Stalf. Tovi nodded.
Stalf chose two loaves and wrapped them. He had reached the door when Tovi’s voice stopped him. ‘What do you want to be, lad, when you’re grown?’
‘A baker, sir. Skilled like you.’ Tovi said no more, and the boy hurried from the bakery.
Sigarni loved the mountain lands, the lush valleys nestling between them, and the deep, dark forests that covered their flanks. But mostly she loved High Druin, the lonely peak which towered over the high lands, its summit lost in cloud, its shoulders cloaked in snow. There was, in High Druin, an elemental magnificence that radiated from its sharp, defiant crags, a magic that sang in the whispering of wind-breath before the winter storms. High Druin spoke to the heart. He said: ‘I am Eternity in stone. I have always been here. I will always be here!’
The huntress let Abby soar into the air and watched her swoop over High Drum’s lower flanks. Lady bounded out over the grass, her sleek black body alert, her one good eye scanning for sign of hare or rat. Sigarni sat by the Lake of Tears, watching the brightly coloured ducks on the banks of the small island at the centre of the lake. Abby circled high above them, also watching the birds. The hawk swooped down, coming to rest in a tree beside the lake. The ducks, suddenly aware of the hawk, took to the water.
Sigarni watched with interest. Roast duck would make a fine contrast to the hare meat she had eaten during the last fortnight. ‘Here, Lady!’ she called. The hound padded alongside and Sigarni pointed to the ducks. ‘Go!’ hissed Sigarni. Instantly the dog leapt into the water, paddling furiously towards the circling flock. Several of the birds took wing, putting flat distance between them and the hound, keeping low to the water. But one took off into the sky and instantly Abby launched herself in pursuit.