Taybard sat obediently and the men seated themselves in a circle around him. Gallowglass stood by, forgotten, but he listened as the tale of Fiallach unfolded. It was a story well told, of a rough and arrogant man who had, at first, sought to kill Connavar, but then had served him faithfully unto death. All the while the story was unfolding the Rigante plied Taybard Jaekel with their flasks. When it came to Fiallach’s death in battle Taybard began to weep. The man closest to him told him to lie down. Taybard did so. Within moments he was asleep. Someone covered him with a blanket. Gallowglass remained where he was, unsure of what to do. The storyteller rose silently. The others followed his lead, then moved away from the sleeping man.
Then the storyteller moved past Gallowglass, gesturing for him to follow. Once they were a little way from Taybard the Rigante looked into Gallowglass’s eyes. ‘So, you’ll rip my head from my shoulders, will you?’
‘And piss in the hole,’ said Gallowglass.
The man laughed. ‘Is there Rigante in you too, by any chance?’
‘If there is no-one ever told me. What were you getting him to drink?’
‘Uisge. He’ll sleep well, and wake with a head that feels it’s been fired from a cannon.’
‘Why did you do that for him?’
‘The man was hurting, and the Wyrd said he was Rigante. The Wyrd is known to us as the Dweller by the Lake. If she says he is Rigante he is Rigante. We look after our own. I am Korrin Talis. You?’
‘Jakon Gallowglass.’
‘Leave your friend with us. We’ll give him breakfast and send him back to you.’
‘I’d like to stay with him.’
‘But you can’t,’ said Talis, with a wolfish grin, ‘for you are a stinking Varlish, and if you disobey me I’ll be forced to rip off your balls and make you wear them as a necklace.’
Gallowglass laughed aloud. ‘Goodnight to you, Korrin Talis.’
‘And to you, Jakon Gallowglass.’
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
KAELIN RING FOLLOWED GALLIOTT INTO THE CASTLE, AND UP THE WIDE stairwell. He paused at the top and stared at the picture of a beautiful young woman, standing alongside a tall grey horse. The horse was stylized, its head far too small, but the woman was extraordinarily lifelike. ‘The Moidart’s grandmother,’ said Galliott. ‘Beautiful, wasn’t she?’
‘Aye. She looks familiar to me.’
‘Gaise Macon has the same odd coloured eyes. You have met him, have you not?’
‘Once.’
‘Well, I’m glad to say he is back. Heaven knows we’ll need his skills. Come on now, best not to keep the Moidart waiting.’
Kaelin’s lips tightened, but he said nothing, and followed Galliott to the Moidart’s apartments.
Inside were two men: the Moidart, dressed in a shirt of white satin, the breast embroidered with the Fawn in Brambles crest of his house, dark leggings and boots, and Gaise Macon. He wore a grey cavalryman’s jacket, with split sleeves. It was well cut, though showed signs of wear. There was an old bloodstain on the right sleeve.
Galliott bowed to the Moidart and left. Kaelin walked into the room. The Moidart remained seated, but Gaise Macon rose and moved towards Kaelin, his hand outstretched. He was leaner than when Kaelin had first seen him, back in Old Hills. Gaise Macon had stopped Taybard Jaekel from plunging a knife into Kaelin’s unprotected body. It seemed so long ago now.
Kaelin Ring shook the proffered hand. ‘Good to see you again, Ring,’ said Gaise Macon.
‘I see you have brought less than two hundred men,’ said the Moidart.
‘Eighteen hundred more are following. They will be here in three days.’
‘Ah, that is better news,’ said the Moidart. ‘I was not aware that you two had met.’
‘A long time ago, Father. As I recall, Master Ring has a fine left hook. He was taught, so he told me at the time, by the champion, Jaim Grymauch. You might recall he was the highlander who defeated the Varlish champion.’
‘I do recall,’ said the Moidart, rising from his chair. ‘And now I will leave you to become better acquainted. There will be a meeting of staff officers tomorrow at first light. You will be most welcome to attend, Master Ring.’