‘What is sickening,’ said Gaise, ‘is to see how swiftly you forget. Winter Kay had our men murdered. He had Cordelia murdered. Men like these ripped her life from her.’
‘Do not bring her into this,’ Mulgrave told him. ‘Her death did not make you a murderer. You just gave in to the darkness. You unchained the bear and now it chains you. Look at where you are, Gaise. Look at the men around you. Lanfer Gosten back there is sickened by this. You have blackened his soul as well as your own. And I see Taybard Jaekel there. Not a man who joys in killing. What are you doing to these good men? What kind of devils are you trying to create?’
‘I am trying to win a war against evil men. Can you not see that?’
‘And you will win it by slaughtering three boys?’
Slipper saw the golden-haired man look directly at him once more. He blinked. The man had strange eyes. One was almost golden. Mulgrave walked across to stand beside Slipper. ‘He is thirteen, Gaise. He joined the army because his family were starving. He was given two chaillings, which he passed on to his mother. His name is Slipper. Tell us all how we will win by killing children.’
The rider seemed to sag in his saddle and the tension went out of him. Without another word he turned his horse and rode from the camp.
Mulgrave walked back to the prisoners. ‘Get some sleep. Tomorrow you will either be released by us or rescued by your comrades. You are probably the luckiest men in the area. You won’t have to die tomorrow.’
‘Thank you for what you said to him, sir,’ said Slipper.
‘What I said to him broke my heart, boy,’ answered Mulgrave.
During the night the various divisions of the Eldacre army took up their positions. Kaelin Ring and eight hundred Rigante moved stealthily forward to the line of earth bags guarding the open ground between the hills. There had already been some skirmishes with outriding scouts from the enemy, and Rayster had taken a ball through his left elbow. He had been moved back to Eldacre with close to twenty other Rigante who had been caught in a crossfire.
Kaelin settled his back against the earth bag wall and glanced at the line of bushes some three hundred feet away. Korrin Talis moved alongside him. ‘I don’t think Rayster will have use of that arm,’ he said.
‘Bad wound,’ agreed Kaelin.
‘You think this plan will work?’
‘Even if it does it will not be enough,’ said Kaelin.
A troop of musketeers and riflemen began to march up the slope to their left. Korrin Talis saw Taybard Jaekel and waved. ‘I didn’t know you knew him,’ said Kaelin.
‘Descended from Fiallach, according to the Dweller.’
Kaelin smiled. ‘And that is why he was in the camp when I returned from meeting the Moidart?’
‘He came in with Gallowglass. He was in a sad state, Kaelin. We made him feel at home.’
‘By getting him drunk?’
‘Drunk is good. I wish I was drunk now. There’s not a drop of uisge left in Eldacre. I tried their ale. I’d sooner drink horse piss in future.’
Kaelin glanced up at the night sky. There were heavy clouds gathering in the east. ‘It’ll blow over,’ said Korrin. Kaelin chuckled.
‘I’ll never know how you can predict the weather so well.’
‘That’s because you were raised among the soft Varlish, Ravenheart. Didn’t get a chance to develop a feel for the land. The cloud is fast-moving. It’ll be wet on the eastern coast tomorrow.’
Kaelin glanced along the earth wall. The Rigante warriors were mostly asleep now. ‘I think I’ll join them,’ said Korrin, stretching himself out and drawing his cloak over his two muskets. Within moments he too was breathing deeply. Then he began to snore.
The wound in Kaelin’s shoulder was throbbing again, the fingers of his left hand twitching. He rubbed at the fingertips and leaned his head against the earth bags. Sleep would not come. He found himself thinking back. He had spent his childhood close to these hills. It was less than an hour to the old schoolhouse where Alterith Shaddler had, on many occasions, beaten him with a cane. Back then he had longed to be a warrior. His plan was to one day kill Shaddler. Jaim had warned him against such thoughts. The one-eyed clansman had been right. Shaddler had risked his life to defend Maev Ring in the witchcraft trial. Life, Kaelin realized, had a curious talent for reversal. In those days the great enemy had been the evil Moidart. Now, as the man himself had cynically predicted, the Moidart was a hero. And Kaelin Ring, the son of the man he had murdered, was risking his life in the Moidart’s service. Who could have foreseen it? Even the Wyrd – who he had always believed to be the well of all wisdom – had been amazed at the events of the past months.