The Wyrd moved to him, and laid a hand upon his shoulder. Then she knelt beside him. ‘He is still here, Hawk in the Willow.’
‘I cannot see him.’
‘You will. Did your grandmother teach you the words?’
‘Aye, a long time ago.’
‘Then speak them with me.’
The Moidart took a deep, shuddering breath, and together he and the Wyrd spoke the ancient farewell.
‘Seek the circle,
find the light,
Say farewell to flesh and bone.
Walk the grey path,
Watch the swan’s flight,
Let your heart light
Bring you home.’
As the words tailed away the Moidart saw two ghostly figures in the sunlight. One was Gaise, the other a dark-haired woman in a travelling dress of shimmering green. They reached out and their hands touched. Then they disappeared.
The Moidart remained where he was for a while. Then he stood and walked away, through the silent ranks of Eldacre men and Rigante. There were a great many horses now, standing idle. Gathering the reins of one he stepped into the saddle and rode away across the field of blue flowers.
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
IN THE MONTHS THAT FOLLOWED ELDACRE BECAME A CENTRE FOR pilgrims. People travelled from all over the land to see the place where the blessed Gaise Macon had lived and died. Monks and priests walked the battlefield, gathering blue flowers and pressing them between small sheets of glass.
The Eldacre Company was kept together for three months, while events in the south settled. Then many of them were paid off. Lanfer Gosten returned to his clerical work with a merchant company, and took on Taybard Jaekel as an assistant. Jakon Gallowglass remained with the reduced army, with the rank of sergeant.
Two of the Moidart’s new generals, Konin and Mantilan, rode south to take part in the new assembly which Eris Velroy had convened. The six hundred men of the assembly, appointed from the surviving nobility and the ranks of the army, were seeking a new king.
The wonders following the death of Gaise Macon did not cease for a long while. It was almost four months before a single person in Eldacre died. For weeks after the battle reports came in of dying people who had been suddenly cured on the day the Stormrider passed from the earth. A tanner in Old Hills, ravaged by cancer, had risen from his bed; an elderly woman, paralysed by a stroke, had the power restored to her limbs; a crippled child had walked again. So many wondrous tales.
Little had been seen of the Moidart since the battle. He had effectively left the running of the castle to Colonel Galliott, and had retired to the Winter House. People spoke of the grief he was enduring at the loss of his son.
Others took the limelight. A little man with golden teeth, named Aran Powdermill, became a celebrity. He had, it became known, aided the Moidart against the evil of the Redeemer devils. He was a man of magic, it was said. A holy man, blessed by the Source.
Garan Beck was also awarded hero status. The burghers of Eldacre presented him with a fine house, overlooking the town.
Huntsekker was also spoken of with awe when word spread of his magnificent fight with thirty Redeemers in defence of the legendary Maev Ring. He, however, did not enjoy the acclaim, and headed north. Some said he was going there to wed Maev.
The clansman Rayster was drawn into the burgeoning legend: the one-armed man who killed the Demon Lord, Winter Kay, and stopped him from acquiring the dread skull. Somehow it became common knowledge that Rayster had no known parents, and had been raised among the Rigante. Already a figure of mystery and heroic nature, it was decided that he had also been blessed by the Source as a man of rare destiny.
But no-one knew of the part Mulgrave the Swordsman had played in the outcome.
People spoke of the last vile act of the Redeemers, the slaying of the god-prince. In church services they prayed that the Source would curse the godless and evil man who had fired that fatal shot, and robbed the world of greatness.