‘Are there no others here?’ she asked.
‘No, not now. This is my world, the silent kingdom of Ironhand. Others have come, demons and evil spirits. I slew them, and now the others avoid my … lands.’
‘You must be lonely.’
He nodded. ‘I hope you will never know how much. I would give anything – accept the darkness and solitude of the true grave for just one hour in your mother’s company. It is not yet to be. I can accept that.’
‘My mother?’ asked Sigarni. ‘You knew her?’
‘Did you not listen to me back at the pool? You are my daughter, Sigarni. Your mother was my wife, Elarine. I see her in you, the same strength of purpose, the same pride.’
‘But you lived hundreds and hundreds of years ago. I can’t be your daughter! It is not possible! I knew my mother and father – lived with them until they were slain.’
‘For all my faults, Sigarni, I was never a liar. Not in life, and certainly not in death. You were born in the last year of my life, when enemies I thought were friends were meeting in secret with plans to destroy me. When I did learn of their plans I urged Elarine to run, to cross the water. She would not.’ He smiled at the memory. ‘ “We will fight them,” she said. “We will conquer once more.” I tried. My wizards were slain, all mystic protection lost to me. That was the work of Jakuta Khan. I tried to reach Elarine, but the assassins trapped me at the Falls. I died there. Elarine died at Kashar. I learned this from Taliesen, when he summoned my spirit to the Falls. You were a babe then. He and Caswallon carried you through a Gateway and left you with your new parents: a fine couple, unable to have children of their own. Taliesen disguised you, changing the colour of your hair.’ Reaching out, he stroked her head. ‘All our family are born with silver hair. We took it as a sign of greatness. Perhaps that was arrogance. Perhaps not. We did become kings, after all. And not one foreign enemy ever brought us low.’
‘How did my mother die?’ asked Sigarni. ‘Did Taliesen tell you this?’
‘Aye, he told me. She had a sabre in her hand, the blood of the enemy staining it. And as she died she cursed them.’ He rose and turned away from her, a tall man of immense power and even stronger grief. His head was bowed and Sigarni went to him taking his hand in hers.
‘Why are you here?’ asked Sigarni tenderly. ‘Why not in paradise, or wherever it is that heroes go?’
He smiled. ‘I had to wait, Sigarni. I made a promise, a sacred oath, that I would come again when my people needed me. I have felt the desire to quit this place many times, seen the far light shining. But I will not travel the swans’ path until the time is right.’
‘Perhaps she waits for you there, Elarine.’
‘Aye, I have thought of that often. But I never made a promise I did not fight to keep. Now that promise is upon me. For you are the heir to Ironhand, you are the hope of the Highlands.’
‘But how can you help me?’ she asked. ‘You are a spirit, a ghost. What can you do within the world of men?’
‘Nothing,’ he admitted. ‘But you can. And I shall continue to teach you what it means to be a king. I will recreate battles for you, and you shall see how they are fought and won. I will show you my life, the traitors and the friends, the good and the deceitful, the brave and the unmanly. All of this and more you will experience here.’
‘How long will this take?’
‘As before, you could be with me for what seems like years, yet when you awake only a single night will have passed. Trust me, my daughter. When you return you will be closer to the warrior queen they have longed for.’
‘I forgot much of what passed between us before. In the true world all this will seem a hazy dream.’