‘The man is evil.’
‘Aye, he is – and I do not need you to tell me.’
‘Then why do you deal with him, Maev?’
Maev Ring sighed and finished her tisane. ‘He is the Lord of the North. I can do no business without his goodwill. He is the power in the land, child. Since I cannot fight it and I cannot oppose it I have decided – for the moment – to flow around it.’
‘And you intend to take Kaelin to see him?’
‘Indeed I do. It is vital that he looks the man in the eye. Kaelin will one day rule the Rigante here. I know this. Your brother is a fine lad, but he is no leader. When Call Jace passes the Rigante will look for a strong man to take his place. That man will be Kaelin.’
‘Or Rayster.’
Maev shook her head. ‘Rayster is a fine Rigante. In some ways he reminds me of my Jaim. He is no leader, though – save by example. He is a fighter, brave and braw. He has a good heart. But most importantly he has no name. He was adopted into the clan. No-one knows who his parents were. Without a name he cannot rule.’
This was true, and a story Chara had known since she was a child in arms. A baby had been found by the Dweller on a mountainside just outside Rigante lands. The Dweller had carried him back to the clan, and there he was raised. The story had always confused Chara. The Dweller had mystical powers. Why then had she not used them to locate the child’s parents? Chara had once asked Rayster about this. He had grinned and shrugged. ‘I never asked,’ he said.
‘But do you not want to know your parents?’
‘Why would I? They did not want to know me. I was tossed to a mountainside in a cold winter and left to die. I have no wish to look into the eyes of the woman who did that to me.’
It was the only moment she could recall that Rayster had ever spoken with bitterness in his voice. Back in those days, as a girl newly arrived at puberty, she had believed herself in love with the tall clansman. As the years passed, though, she realized he was like a brother to her, strong and loyal and loving. There was no passion to be kindled between them. Several of the clan girls had sought to entice Rayster to Walk the Tree, but he had gently declined them all, and from the age of sixteen had chosen to live alone in a cabin high above the clan valley. Now in his late twenties he was a confirmed bachelor. This saddened Chara, for Rayster was wonderful with children, and would, she was convinced, make a fine father. Little Jaim doted on him whenever he visited.
‘You are miles away,’ said Maev, pouring another cup of tisane.
‘I was thinking about what you said about Rayster.’
‘Don’t misunderstand rne. I was not speaking slightingly of the man. I admire and like him greatly.’
‘I know that, Maev.’
‘Kaelin needs to see the Moidart,’ said Maev. ‘He needs to know his enemy. One day – if the Source is willing – Kaelin will destroy the man and all he stands for. He will cut his vile head from his shoulders. Then Lanovar and my Jaim – and so many others – will be avenged.’
‘The Moidart did not kill Jaim, Maev.’
‘His men did. And the man murdered my brother, Lanovar. Shot him, having already given his oath on a truce. Hundreds more died later, hunted down and murdered on the Moidart’s orders.’
The door opened and Kaelin entered. Lowering Jaim to the floor he strode to the fire. Feargol followed him, while two-year-old Jaim ran to his mother, arms outstretched. Chara hugged him, lifting him to her lap. His coat was wet through and she carried him upstairs to change his clothes.
‘The Cochland brothers have been seen around Black Mountain again,’ said Kaelin.
‘Someone will be losing cattle,’ said Maev.
‘Not us.’
‘No, they are not stupid men. Though I still think you should have hanged Draig. It would have been a harsher lesson.’