Marl took a deep breath, and summoned the last of his courage. ‘As you are aware, sir, your son is in the south. His life hangs by a thread. Release me and I shall see that no harm comes to him.’
‘No, no, no,’ said the Moidart, shaking his head. ‘You cannot guarantee that, Marl Coper. My son will live or die depending on his skill and his luck. I cannot shape those events. Neither can you. If I could I wouldn’t have killed your comrades. I would have found some other way to deal with Winterbourne. As it is I am extremely displeased. I am a king’s man, and have no sympathy for the Covenant rabble. They were always going to lose. Now I am forced to their side. My own lands – mercifully free of the inefficiency of war – will now see battles and disruption to trade. My wealth – gathered by my family for generations – will be squandered on armies and guns and swords. It is most vexing.’
‘Please don’t kill me, lord,’ said Marl, tears dropping to his cheeks.
‘I won’t be killing you yet, Master Coper. Oh no. First there is much you can tell me. I need to know all there is to know about Winter Kay and his plans. My man Huntsekker will show you to your new quarters. I will join you there presently. Then we can talk.’
‘I’ll tell you anything you need to know, lord. I swear it.’
‘I know. People in my dungeons always do.’
CHAPTER TEN
TWO HUNDRED AND TWENTY-THREE CATTLE HAD SURVIVED THE LONG drive to Eldacre. Fourteen had been slaughtered en route to feed the nine herders, and sundry other folk who had begged food along the way. Five had been stolen, and Maev had forbidden Kaelin to lead his men after them. This had galled the young Rigante.
‘They are my cattle, Kaelin,’ she said, quietly. ‘If anyone is entitled to be outraged it is me.’
‘Maybe so,’ Kaelin told her. ‘But what would you have said had I been leading this trip and had come home to tell you that I had decided to allow a few cattle to be stolen?’
Maev Ring suddenly smiled. Her hard face softened, and she seemed years younger. ‘I would have berated you, nephew. Long and hard.’
The answer eased Kaelin’s anger. ‘So why this unaccustomed softness?’
Maev climbed down from the long supply wagon and strode out to the edge of the trail. Far below they could see the towering grey castle, standing proud above the town. Maev gazed down onto Eldacre, seeking out the Five Fields, where every year the Games were held. She felt her throat tighten as she remembered Jaim Grymauch giving the fight of his life against the Varlish champion, Gorain. Maev sighed. ‘A long time since I’ve been home,’ she said.
‘Didn’t think I could face it before this. Not sure I can even now.’
Kaelin moved alongside his aunt, placing his arm round her shoulder. ‘I can still remember the pride I felt when Grymauch knocked the man out of the circle. I can hear the roar of the clansmen, and see the stunned astonishment on the faces of the Varlish crowd.’
‘Aye,’ said Maev. ‘The man could punch.’ She shrugged off his protective hug. ‘I need no mollycoddling,’ she said. Kaelin grinned and shook his head.
‘You’re the least huggable woman I ever met.’
‘Aye, that’s true enough,’ she agreed. The last of the sunlight fell upon her red and grey hair. Maev Ring at forty was still a handsome woman, straight-backed and tall. She had put on a little weight in the last four years, but still walked with the easy grace of the highlander. Hitching up her heavy green skirt she climbed back to the wagon. ‘Join me,’ she said, sliding across the seat. ‘We need to talk.’
Kaelin stepped up alongside her and took the reins. The four horses leaned into the traces and the wagon trundled towards the sloping road. Behind them the herders prodded the cattle forward.
‘Two weeks we’ve been on the road and now you need to talk?’ said Kaelin.
‘I’ll be seeing the Moidart tomorrow. I thought you might like to come with me.’