Agwaine bowed his head. ‘At this moment,’ he said, ‘we are in flight. They outnumber us and they have killed thousands.
‘Yes, and many more clansmen will die,’ said Caswallon, ‘but we shall not lose. Do not think of their numbers. It means nothing if the terrain is right. Think of your father, and his few hundred men. Aye, and women. Think of how the Aenir broke upon that sword-ring. I would wager three Aenir died for every clansman. Think on it. For the Aenir will.
‘Deep in their hearts they know the truth. Let you know it too. We are the Farlain and, though we may be ill-suited to it, we carry the torch of Light in this war. And the Aenir darkness will not extinguish it.’
Agwaine chuckled suddenly, leaning back to rest on his elbows. ‘Caswallon, you’ve only been with the Council for a few months and already you’re spouting rhetoric.’
‘I know, and it surprises me. But what is more surprising, perhaps, is that I believe it. With all my soul.’
‘You believe the force of good will always defeat the force of evil?”
‘I do – ultimately.’
‘Why?’
‘I can’t argue it, for it springs from the heart and not the mind. Why did the Queen come when you needed her?’
‘Chance?’
‘From where did you get the strength to beat the faster man?’
‘I don’t know. But why did the lowlanders fall? They were not evil.’
‘I don’t say that darkness does not have small triumphs. But we are not lowlanders, we are the Farlain.’
‘Now that I will agree on,’ said Agwaine. ‘And now I’d better be heading for Maggrig.’
‘Are you more certain?’
‘I don’t know, but I feel the better for talking.’
Then that must be enough,’ said Caswallon, rising.
‘Take care, Caswallon – and look out for Deva. She should be clear of them. She was visiting Lars with her friend Larain.’
‘I will send out scouts.’
The clan had made camp on the northern slope of a group of hills, where their camp-fires could not be seen from the south. As night stole over the countryside Caswallon ordered the fires doused, lest the glow be seen against the sky. He sought out Taliesen and together they walked to the hilltop, the old druid leaning heavily on his oak staff. He wore his birds’-feather cloak over a white robe. Caswallon thought him dangerously tired.
‘How are you faring?’ he asked as they sat together under the bright stars.
Taliesen’s eyes gleamed and he smiled. ‘I will not die on you, Caswallon.’
‘That does not answer my question.’
‘I am exhausted. But then I am old.’ He looked at the young warrior beside him, his eyes full of guile. ‘Do you know how old?’
‘Seventy? Eighty?’
‘If I told you my age, would you believe me?’
‘Yes. Why would you lie?’
‘I will not lie, Caswallon. I am over a thousand years old.’
‘I was wrong,’ said Caswallon, grinning. ‘I do not believe you.’
‘And yet I speak the truth. It was I who brought Earis here so many centuries ago. On this very hill, he and I looked down on the Farlain and knew joy.’
‘Stop this jest, Taliesen …’
‘It is no jest, Caswallon, and I am not speaking to impress you. Of all the clansmen, you alone have the capacity to understand what I am going to tell you. You have an open, enquiring mind and a rare intelligence. You are not prey to superstitions. You make your own judgements. I am more than one thousand years old. I was born out there!’ The old man’s bony hand flashed out, pointing to the stars. ‘You’ve heard tales of the elder race, the vanished people. I am the last of those elders; the last true-blooded anyway. We made the Gates, Caswallon, and we journeyed across distances so great I could not impress on you the scale of it. Think of an ant crossing the Farlain and multiply it a thousand times, and you would have but the first step of my journeys.
‘We came here, and from here we spread across the Universe. We were the Star Walkers. We birthed religions and created mythologies wherever man saw us. But then came catastrophe.’ The druid bowed his head, staring at his hands.