He recalled the words of Jaim Grymauch: ‘Always listen to fear, Kaelin. Never be ruled by it. Fear is like a cowardly friend. His advice is not always wrong, but, given the chance, he will drag you down into the pit he dwells in.’
Kaelin moved to the chest at the far wall and took out a thick, double-shouldered hunting shirt of oiled doeskin, and a pair of buckskin trews. Discarding his own clothes he dressed and pulled on a knee-length pair of moccasins and strapped on a belt containing a powder horn, a pouch of lead shot, and a nine-inch hunting knife. Retrieving the Emburleys, he loaded them and placed them in his belt.
If any beetlebacks were patrolling the mountain roads he would be arrested and hanged for sure.
From a drawer in the dresser he pulled clear a grey blanket, which he folded and rolled before draping it over his shoulder and walking downstairs. Senlic Carpenter was waiting in the main room. Beside him was a canvas shoulder sack.
‘There’s some food in here,’ said the old man. ‘Muslin-wrapped cheese, oats and some salt beef. You’ll find streams aplenty for water. I’ve put a tinder box and an old pot in there too. Watch where you camp. There’s few wolves left in the mountains now, but there’s bears. Some of them can be right grumpy at this time of year.’
‘Thank you.’
‘You don’t need to do this,’ said the old man, rising from his chair. The words were said without conviction.
‘Always good to do something new on your birthday,’ said Kaelin.
‘Birthday, is it? How old are you? Eighteen? Nineteen?’
‘Fifteen,’ Kaelin told him.
Senlic was surprised. ‘I thought you older. Dammit, Kaelin, don’t do this! If Call Jace knew you were not of majority it would make a difference.’
‘I am of majority from today. If I don’t return tell Jaim Grymauch what happened. Will you do that?’
‘I will. Were you there when he fought the Varlish champion?’
‘Yes. It was a grand battle.’
Senlic smiled. ‘We heard of it. Wished I’d seen it.’
‘It was a sight,’ agreed Kaelin, hoisting the shoulder sack and slipping his blanket underneath the strap.
Take care, Kaelin. And stand tall. Call Jace admires a man who does that.’
Kaelin Ring left the stone farmhouse and walked out. The other men were standing some distance away. No-one spoke and Kaelin did not look at them.
He journeyed west for several hours, the ground steadily rising. His headache cleared by noon, and, truth to tell, he was starting to enjoy the walk. He had not realized quite how stultifying farm life had become, with the endless writing in ledgers, the collecting and storing of coin, the checking of supplies. Out here in the open he felt free of such obligations. He thought of Alterith Shaddler. Without the man’s teaching he would not have been able to keep Maev’s books in order. The man might have known little about the Rigante, but he knew how to teach sums. And how to use a cane, thought Kaelin. He smiled at the memory of the man. It reminded him of Old Hills and a time without fear.
There was only one road west and Kaelin held to it, always listening and watching for riders. Occasionally he saw men in the far distance, some herding cattle, others working, repairing sod roofs, or tilling the earth.
The land was growing more rugged now, outcroppings of rock piercing the shallow earth, stands of pine silhouetted against the clear blue sky. Kaelin paused, admiring the green against the blue. It seemed to him then that these were the colours of life. It was as if he was seeing pines against the sky for the first time. His heart soared. Surely it was this grand sight that had inspired the blue and green Rigante cloak?
The wind was strong and easterly, cold from flowing over the snow-topped peaks. It was bracing and Kaelin enjoyed it. Every now and again he would remember why he was making this trek, but even the grim prospect of the Black Rigante could not dent his mood in this high, mighty country. Far overhead two golden eagles banked and flew off towards the west.