‘But that rule was made because it was right.’
‘I have enough trouble carrying musket, powder and shot. I don’t need to carry any more burdens, thank you very much. Tomorrow I’ll kill every whoreson who comes at me from the south. Then, when we’ve won, I’m going to find the best whore in Eldacre.’
‘Has it occurred to you, Jakon, that we might not win, and that even if we do you may die in the battle?’
‘No, I won’t,’ replied Gallowglass. ‘I thought I would die in Shielding. I was convinced of it. Having survived that it is my belief I will survive anything they throw at us, and then some. If we lose I’ll take off into the hills and wait. When things have quietened down I’ll sneak back into Eldacre and find the best whore in town.’
Taybard relaxed and smiled. ‘It doesn’t really matter to you, does it, whether evil or good wins this battle?’
‘Not as long as—’
‘—there are still whores around,’ chimed in Taybard.
‘Exactly.’
A rider on a white mare cantered into sight in the valley below. Gallowglass peered down at him. ‘Is that the Moidart?’ he asked.
‘Yes,’ said Taybard.
‘I missed him earlier, but they said he had a beautiful white horse. Looks a bit skittish for a war mount.’
‘I doubt the Moidart will take part in the battle,’ said Taybard. ‘He’s not young any more.’
The Moidart continued to canter across the valley floor, skirting the line of bushes behind the ramparts where the Rigante were stationed, and on behind the western hills to where the original Eldacre Company were camped. Gaise Macon and General Beck were sitting by the stream discussing the coming battle when the Moidart rode up and dismounted.
Beck rose and bowed. ‘You may continue, gentlemen,’ said the Moidart, joining them.
‘We had all but concluded our business, Father,’ put in Gaise swiftly. ‘There is nothing more to be done now save fight.’
‘I have decided to attend the battle,’ said the Moidart.
‘That would be most unwise, Father,’ objected Gaise. ‘The plans are set, and everyone knows their place.’
‘Would I be wrong in assuming that the heaviest attacks will be against Beck’s ridge?’
‘That is what we expect,’ agreed Gaise.
The Moidart turned to Beck. ‘Would it lift or demoralize the men if I were to place myself among them?’
‘It would lift them, my lord.’
‘Then that is my role. I am not a soldier, Beck, and will make no attempt to issue orders, nor countermand any that you may give.’
‘I would be honoured to have you with us, my lord, but I fear for your safety.’
‘I have been shot at before. I will join you just before the dawn. Now, will you allow me a few words in private with my son?’
‘Of course, my lord. Good night to you,’ said Beck, bowing and then departing.
‘Why are you doing this, Father?’ asked Gaise.
‘Because it is sensible. You are a fine cavalry general, Gaise, but you are too reckless and daring. The likelihood is that you will be cut down tomorrow leading a charge. Without you there will be no central focus. Beck, Mantilan and the others will begin to act independently. The spirit of the defenders will start to wilt. The reality is that your brilliance has made you too important. If I am with Beck I will become a rallying centre.’ He shrugged. ‘It may make little difference. Time will tell.’
Gaise shook his head. ‘You lied to Beck. You are a soldier, and one as naturally gifted as any I have known.’
‘It is in the blood, Gaise. Varlish and Rigante, warriors both. Our ancestors have fought wars since time immemorial. And won them. More than that we have built societies and held them together. We are the rulers, Gaise. We are the mighty. Remember that tomorrow.’
‘Do your best to stay alive, Father.’
The Moidart smiled. ‘I do not care one way or the other. My time is almost over. If we win – and since no-one can hear us I’d say we have less than one chance in twenty – I shall stand down as Moidart, and pass on the mantle to you.’