The hall was vast, with ten high-arched windows. A huge curved table was set at the centre, around which sat more than two hundred men and women feasting on roast pig, swan, goose, chicken and sundry other meats and pastries. The noise was incredible and Caswallon found himself longing for the open mountains. Swallowing down his distaste, he followed the officer forward.
At the far end of the hall, where the table curved like an upturned horseshoe, sat the Queen. She was a tall woman, silver-haired and yet young, and she wore a plain dress of white wool. Caswallon had seen this woman die in the Farlain three years before. Then she had been handsome but old; now she was a beauty, proud and strong, her clear grey eyes sparkling with life and energy. The eyes turned on Caswallon and Sigarni rose from her seat, a delighted smile on her face.
She hesitated, as if not believing what she saw. Then she was running to meet Caswallon. ‘Redhawk!’ she shouted joyously. ‘You’ve returned!’
Caswallon returned the Queen’s embrace, his mind racing as Sigarni gripped his shoulders.
‘Let me look at you, Redhawk. By Heaven, how is it you have become young again? Have you dyed that beard? It was almost pure silver the last rime we met.’
‘I hear you have done well,’ countered Caswallon, his mind racing.
‘Well? Now that is an understatement. The Outland King is slain, his army in ruins. The war may not be won, but we have gained valuable time. Time! Morgase is defeated – but she has vanished. Not one word of her in six months. But enough of that. Where have you been these last two years? I needed you.”
‘I have been in my own land, amongst my own people.”
‘You are ill at ease, my friend. What ails you?’
‘I am merely tired, my Lady.’
She smiled. ‘Join us at table. We’ll eat and hear a few songs,’ said Sigarni, leading him forward. ‘Later we’ll talk.’
The feast seemed to last an eternity, and great was his relief when eventually it ended. A servant led him to an upper bedchamber. It was small, with a single window and a long, pallet bed. A fire was burning in the hearth. Moving to the window, Caswallon pushed it open and gazed out over the mountains. Confused, he remembered again the Queen’s death near Attafoss, and her last words.
‘Now the circle is complete,’ the Queen had said. ‘For you told me you would be with me at my death.’ And then at the last she had asked, ‘Was I truly the Queen you desired me to be?’ The cold winds of approaching winter made him shiver. Closing the window, he crossed the room to sit on the rug before the fire. He thought he had been prepared for anything, but the sight of the Queen had shaken him. She was stunningly beautiful and, despite his love for Maeg, he found in himself a yearning for Sigarni which he would not have believed possible.
For some time he sat there, then felt the draught on his back as the door opened.
Sigarni entered. She was dressed now in a simple woollen shirt of white that showed the curve of her breasts and dark brown leggings which highlighted her long, slim legs. She sat down on the bed. No more the Queen, she looked now like a clanswoman – tall and strong, fearless and free. Her mouth was astonishingly inviting, and Caswallon found his heart beating wildly.
‘What are you thinking, my wizard?’ she asked, her voice more husky than he recalled from her greeting in the hall.
‘You are very beautiful, Lady.’
‘And you are changed,’ she said softly, her grey eyes holding to his gaze.
‘In what way?’ he countered.
Sigarni slid off the bed to sit next to him by the fire. ‘When I greeted you I saw the surprise in your eyes. And now I am here beside you – and yet you do not seek to hold me. What has happened to you, Redhawk? Have you forsaken me for another? I will understand if that is true. By Heaven, I have said my share of farewells to lovers. I would hope to have the strength to accept similar treatment. Is that what is happening here?’