‘The woman you love is in danger, Jaim,’ she said. Grymauch lurched to his feet. ‘No, no, it is not immediate. Sit yourself down and listen to me.’ He slumped back by the fire, dropping the flagon. Then she told him of Maev’s arrest. He had listened in silence, then, when she had finished, moved to the stream and drunk a copious amount of water. When he returned his eye was no longer bleary.
‘I shall go back, and take her from the cathedral. There won’t be enough guards to stop me.’
‘Aye, that might work,’ she said.
‘I hear a doubt in your voice. I can do it, Wyrd.’
‘I know you can. But it is important that the trial take place, Jaim. That it is concluded.’
‘They’ll burn her.’
‘Yes, she will be sentenced to burn. The injustice of the sentence will sway the crowd – both Varlish and highlander. It will change hearts and minds, Jaim. And from it will come a greater understanding between the races.’
‘I’ll not let her die, Wyrd, even if it means the Varlish and the clan hate each other for a thousand years. Maev is the love of my life. Can you understand what I’m saying?’
‘I do understand, Jaim. But even as we speak the schoolteacher, Alterith Shaddler, is preparing to defend her. He is no warrior. Yet he will stand against the Knights of the Sacrifice, and risk his own life for Maev. We cannot go on as two peoples filled with hate, Jaim. It is draining the magic from the land, and without the magic there will be nothing. The land will die, little by little. I do not ask that you leave Maev to her fate. I ask that you wait until the trial is over.’
‘ ‘Tis the same thing,’ he argued. ‘There will be scores of soldiers at the execution, pikemen and musketeers.’
‘And against them will be Jaim Grymauch, the greatest of the Rigante. You know me, Jaim. You know I have pledged my life for the clan. You know I would not lie to you. Trust me when I tell you that the future of the Rigante rests now in your hands.’
He stared into the fire. ‘I don’t know what to do,’ he said.
‘Then trust your heart.’
‘I can save Maev and help end the hatred?’ he asked.
‘Yes.’
‘A long time ago I failed to save a friend. I have lived with that regret as a wound on my soul which has never healed. It would kill me to fail my Maev. You understand? I’d sooner be dead.’
‘You will reach her, Jaim. I promise you that. You will hold her. Maev will live, though you will not.’
He had said nothing for a while. ‘I am destined to die there?’
‘Yes. If that is the path you choose.’
‘But Maev will be safe?’
‘She will go north, Jaim, and dwell among the Black Rigante.’
‘I’d die willingly for Maev. But tell me this. If I take her from the cathedral before the trial is over, would she Walk the Tree with me?’
‘Yes, Jaim, she would. You would have some years together. Happy years. I’ll not deny it. But then the Rigante would be wiped out, the clan destroyed. Hatred and violence would swamp the highlands.’
‘Tell me what to do, Wyrd.’
‘I cannot do that, Jaim. You will know when the time comes. Go to Eldacre. Stay low, and watch over the schoolteacher. He is staying at a lodging house in Peartree Lane. The knights will try to kill him. You must keep him safe.’
The Wyrd’s spirit had faded away, and she had opened her eyes back in the Wishing Tree woods. Her fire had burned low – almost as low as the flames of her soul. Her words had doomed Jaim Grymauch.
Now she waited. The sun drifted past noon. The air suddenly freshened, and a cool breeze blew. Closing her eyes she felt the first rippling wave of magic flow across her. She cried out with the joy of it, forgetting for an instant what had caused it. Here, sixty miles from the cathedral, the wave was gentle. Yet even so the magic seeped into the earth and the trees, the rocks and the water. Those closest to the centre would have felt it most strongly. It was the kind of magic which changed hearts, and opened minds.