‘I am betrothed to no-one. I only reached my majority last week.’
‘And I yesterday,’ he said.
‘Yesterday? I thought you were older.’
‘Yesterday I was older,’ he told her. ‘Today I feel like a child.’ Taking her hand he made as if to raise it to his lips. Instead he dipped his head and kissed her mouth.
‘I did not say you could do that,’ she said, without anger.
‘May I do it again?’
‘You may not. This time I shall do it. Close your eyes.’ He did so, and felt her arms encircle his neck. His head was drawn down and he felt her lips upon his. When she drew back he was almost dizzy.
‘That was the single greatest moment of my life,’ he said.
Then you have led a dull life, Kaelin Ring,’ she told him, with a bright smile. ‘Now let us go down and meet my father.’ She took his hand, but he did not move.
‘Must we go now? Can we not stay here awhile?’
‘No, we must go. It is still a long walk and you have a great deal of apologizing to do before supper.’
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CALL JACE WAS NOT A NATURALLY PESSIMISTIC MAN. HE HAD LEARNED early that luck mostly favoured the brave and the willing. He did not assume that events would always go the way he desired, but he trusted in his instincts, his intelligence and his courage to win the day.
He had been clan chieftain of the northern Rigante for eighteen years, and in that time had eased the Varlish from his borders. He had managed this feat using a mixture of cunning and political skill, allied with a daring that had, at times, been breathtaking. The lands of the Rigante were rugged, full of deep forests, high mountains and treacherous passes. Any enemy intent on destroying his people would have to risk losing thousands of men in a sustained war of attrition – a war, moreover, in which the absence of major battles would deprive any enemy general of the chance of glory. Such a war, Call knew, would be immensely costly and politically ruinous. Only the king, far in the south, could call upon an army of the size needed to deliver a final victory. The Moidart could not.
Call had understood this from the first. Yet when he had replaced the dying Laphrain the Black Rigante were in disarray. Beetlebacks patrolled their lands, Varlish businesses had been set up in the valley, and no clansman was allowed a sword or a pistol. Laphrain had been a good man, but he could not see the dangers.
Call Jace had. For the first two years he did nothing overtly to encourage the Varlish to believe he was an enemy. In secret, however, he formed five raiding parties and sent them out to harass and rob merchant caravans to the east of Black Mountain. None of the men wore clothes that could identify them as members of his clan. They were, to all intents and purposes, merely outlaws. On Call’s instruction they also raided Varlish farms, stealing livestock and burning buildings. The beetlebacks ceased to patrol Rigante lands, their time taken up trying to hunt down the raiding parties. Occasionally they succeeded, though not one clansman allowed himself to be taken alive.
In the meantime, without constant beetleback patrols, Call began installing defences in the high passes; stockaded walls of thick timber, and solid gates of oak. With moneys gained from the raids he also bought in a store of muskets and pistols. Within four years he had bought out the Varlish businesses within the Rigante mountains, and had set up several forges, ostensibly producing iron implements for farms: ploughs, scythes, nails and such. But they also crafted swords and knives. Young men of the Rigante were then trained in blade skills.
Only then did Call Jace apply the first overt pressure to the ruling Varlish. The new colonel in charge of the beetleback forces was a man named Gates. He had been sent in by an angry Moidart with orders to eliminate the outlaws. Soon after his arrival Call Jace stepped up the raids. Gates’s position was becoming untenable, and he was days away from being relieved of his duties and summoned home in disgrace. Call Jace then invited him to visit the valley, along with twenty of his men. When they arrived Call greeted them wearing a beautifully wrought half sabre, with a bronze fist guard.