Obrin sighed. ‘I could finish that story for you, man. There’s no justice for the poor. Never was, never will be. Did he laugh in your face?’
The giant shook his head. ‘He had me flogged for my impudence.’
‘What happened to the girl?’
‘She lived. I went back to the nobleman and this time he paid.’
‘What brought about his change of heart?’
‘There was no change of heart. I left his head on a spike, and I burned his home to the ground. It was a grand fire, which burned bright and lit the sky for many a mile. It also lit men’s hearts, and that fire burned for thirty years.’
‘By God, did they not hunt you?’
‘Aye. And then I hunted them.’
‘Andyou were victorious?’
‘Always.’ The warrior chuckled. ‘Until the last day.’
‘What happened-then?’
Idly the warrior drew his sword from the earth and examined the glistening blade. The ruby shone like fresh blood, the blade gleaming like captured moonlight. ‘The war was over. Victory was won. The land was at peace, and free. I thought my enemies were all dead. A dreadful mistake for a warrior. I was riding across my lands, gazing upon High Druin, watching the storm-clouds gather there. They surprised me. My horse was killed, but not before the gallant beast got me to the edge of the forest. They came at me in a pack: men I had fought alongside, even promoted. Not friends, you understand, but comrades-in-arms. My heart was wounded each time I killed one of them. The wounds to my body were as nothing to my grief.’
‘Why did they turn on you?’
The warrior shrugged, then thrust the sword once more into the earth.
I wasaking, Obrin. And I was arrogant and sure. I treated some of them with disdain. Others I ignored. There were always ten men queuing for every favour I could grant. And I made mistakes. Once I had freed them from the tyranny of the oppressor I became a tyrant in their eyes. Who knows, maybe they were right. I do not judge them.’
‘How did you survive alone against so many?’
I did not.’
Obrin was shocked. ‘You . .. you are a spirit then?’
We both are, Obrin. But you have a body of flesh to which you will return.’
I don’t understand. Why am I here?’
I called you.’
‘For what purpose?’ asked Obrin. I am not a king, nor of any worth.’
‘Do not be so harsh on yourself, man,’ said the warrior, laying his iron gauntlet on Obrin’s shoulder. ‘You have merely lost your way. And now you are at the cross-roads. You may choose a new path.’
Obrin gazed around him. All the pathways looked the same, interminable tunnels beneath arched trees. ‘What difference does it make?’he asked. ‘They are identical.’
The warrior nodded. ‘Aye, that is true. All roads lead to death, Obrin. It is inescapable. Even so, there is a right path.’
Obrin laughed, but the sound was bitter and harsh. ‘How would I know it?’
‘Ifyou cannot recognize it, then you must find a man already upon it and follow him. You will know, Obrin. Let the heart-light shine. It will light the way.’
Obrin awoke with a start. The dawn light was streaking the sky, though the stars had not yet faded. His thoughts were muddled and his mouth felt as if he’d swallowed a badger. With a groan he sat up. His right shoulder ached abominably. Rising from his blankets, he walked to a nearby tree and emptied his bladder. Everyone else was still asleep, including the prisoner. Obrin hawked and spat, then stretched his right arm over his head, seeking to ease the ache.
The hill sentry walked down and saluted.’Nothing to report from the watch, sergeant,’ he said, ‘but there are riders to the south.’
‘Clansmen?’ This was unlikely, for there were few horses in the mountains.
‘No, sir. Soldiers from Citadel, I think. Too far away to be sure.’
•(jet a breakfast fire going,’ ordered Obrin. Moving to the stream, he stripped to the waist and washed in the cold water, splashing it over his face and hair. Kollarin joined him. ‘Sleep well, sergeant?’ ‘I always sleep well.’ ‘No dreams?’