Layne asked Gaelen about life in Ateris, and the Aenir invasion. Gaelen found the memories too painful and switched the conversation back to Caswallon. ‘I know you don’t want to gossip,’ he said, ‘but I am a stranger here, and I need to know how my … father earned such dislike.’
‘Caswallon is the richest man in the valley. He has the largest herds and his fields carry more wheat than any save Cambil’s. But he holds himself apart from other clansmen, and the Hunt Lord hates him.’
‘He doesn’t appear rich,’ said Gaelen. ‘In Ateris rich men have… had . . . marble palaces and carriages of gold. And many servants. They wore rings and necklets, bracelets and brooches.’
‘We have no use for such finery,’ Layne told him. ‘We live free. Caswallon supports more than one hundred crofters. If he desired, he could start a new clan. That is rich – believe me.’
Then why doesn’t he? I mean, if he’s so disliked it would seem to be good sense. Then he would be his own Hunt Lord.’
‘He would have to surrender his valley land and find somewhere else to live, and that is no longer easy. To the north-east the Haesten control the land bordering the lowlands. North of them are the Pallides. The rest of the land for a six-day march is all Farlain, and beyond that the minor clans – the Loda, the Dunilds, and the Irelas -fight over territory. Anyway, Caswallon is Farlain and always will be.’
‘I’m damned hungry,’ said Lennox suddenly.
Gaelen fished in his leather hip-pouch and produced a thick slice
of cold meat-pie. He passed it to Lennox. Thanking him, the huge youth wolfed the pie down at speed.
‘My father would also be rich,’ said Layne dryly, ‘were it not for my brother’s appetite.’
‘He’s big,’ said Gaelen. ‘I don’t think I’ve seen anyone his age bigger.’ Lennox was already more than six feet tall, with a bull-like neck and an enormous frame. His face was broad, his eyes deep-set and brown. His chin and cheeks were already darkening with the promise of a beard.
‘And he’s as strong as he looks. Also, despite what you will hear, he’s no fool. He just says little. Isn’t that right, brother?’
‘Whatever you say,’ said Lennox, grinning.
‘I don’t know why, but he likes to play the fool,” said Layne. ‘He lets people think he has no brains.’
‘It does no harm,’ said Lennox mildly.
‘No, but it irritates me,’ replied his brother, scowling. Gaelen would not have guessed them to be brothers. Layne, though tall, was of more slender build, his face fine-boned.
‘I can’t think why it should, Layne,’ said Lennox, smiling. ‘You are the thinker in the family.”
‘Nonsense.’ Layne swung to Gwalchmai. ‘Why so silent, little one?’
‘I was thinking about Agwaine,’ answered Gwalchmai. ‘I don’t like to make anyone angry.’
‘He won’t be angry with you for long. And besides, I’m proud of you. What do you think, Lennox?’
‘I think it took nerve to stay with us. You’ll not regret it, Gwal, my lad.’
‘Do you think they’ll attack Gaelen again?’ Gwal asked.
‘No,’ replied Layne. ‘When he has had rime to think on it, Agwaine will realise that Gaelen acted like…’ he grinned’… like a Highlander,’ he said. ‘He will respect that.”
Gaelen blushed and said nothing.
‘Well,’ said Layne. ‘I think it’s time we told Gaelen about the Hunt.’
Caswallon stood nervously outside the door biting his lip, a habit he thought he had left behind in childhood. But then standing before the door of Leofas brought back memories, none of them pleasant.
When Caswallon was a child he had stolen a dagger from the home of the Sword Champion, Leofas. His foster-father, Padris, had been furious when Cambil informed him of Caswallon’s misbehaviour, and had sent the boy to Leofas to confess.
Caswallon had stood before the door then as now, on edge and fearful. The clansman chuckled. ‘You fool,’ he told himself. But it didn’t help.
Rapping the door with his knuckles, he took a deep breath.
Leofas let him in without a word of greeting and pointed to a chair before the hearth. Removing his cloak, Caswallon sat down. The room was large, strewn with rugs of goatskin and wolf-hide, and on the far wall hung a bearskin, dust-covered and patchy with age.