‘No, truly. One small rabbit is scarce enough to build your strength.’ Gaelen tipped the contents of his plate on Lennox’s own. In the meantime Gwalchmai had whispered to Layne.
‘I’m sorry, brother,’ said Layne, smiling. ‘Gaelen has made me realise how selfish I am. Take my portion too.’
‘And mine,’ added Gwalchmai eagerly.
Lennox sat back on his haunches. ‘You are all true friends,’ he said, gazing dreamily at his plate. Discarding his knife he scooped a handful of meat into his mouth. For several seconds he chewed in silence, then his face froze. His three companions waited in nerve-tingling silence until he doggedly finished the mouthful and swallowed.
‘Is it good?’ asked Layne, his face set and serious.
‘Yes, it is,’ said Lennox. ‘But look, I feel bad about taking it all.’
Think nothing of it,’ said Gwalchmai swiftly. ‘Your need is the greatest.’
‘Yes, but
‘And you cooked it,’ put in Gaelen.
‘I know, but…”
‘Eat on, brother,’ said Layne. ‘See, it grows cold and… congeals.’
The dam burst and all three broke into giggling laughter. Realisation struck Lennox and he hurled the diseased meat into the bushes. ‘Swine!’ he said.
A hundred paces above them, on the edge of the trees, the beast squatted on its haunches glaring down at the fire. The laughter puzzled it, for the sound was similar to the screeching of the small apes of its homeland. Its black nostrils flared, catching the aroma of scorched flesh – rancid-smelling sickly flesh.
The beast snorted, blowing the scent away. It stretched its powerful legs, moving several paces left. Here the flesh scent was different, warm-blooded, salty and alive. The creature’s eyes glittered. Hunger urged it to charge the camp and take the meat. Instinct made it fear the fire.
The beast settled down to wait.
Gaelen’s dreams were troubled. Once more the Aenir killers pursued him, the pounding of their horses’ hooves drumming fear into him as he ran. His legs were heavy, his movements sluggish. Suddenly a calming blue light filled his mind and the warriors faded. A face appeared, wrinkled and ancient, only the dark eyes giving a hint of life.
‘The fire,’ said a deep melodious voice, though the lips did not move. ‘The fire is dying. Awake!’
Gaelen groaned and rolled over, trying to force the man from his mind.
‘The fire, fool! Your life is in danger! Awake!”
The calming light disappeared, to be replaced by a red haze. Within the haze was a monster, black and menacing. Its huge jaws slavered, and its taloned hands reached for him.
Gaelen awoke with a jolt, eyes opening to the bright moonlight and the glittering stars in the velvet-dark sky. He glanced at the fire.
As the dream had told him, it was failing fast, the last flickering twigs turning to ash and glowing embers.
The boy did not want to leave the warmth of his blanket, but the dream left an edge of fear in him. He sat up, running his fingers through his hair, scratching at the scar beneath the blaze of white above his left eye. Swiftly he broke twigs and small branches, feeding them to the tiny blaze and blowing life back into the fire. He felt better as the flames danced.
A rustling to his right made him turn. A large bush quivered and a low growl reverberated in the clearing. Gaelen drew his hunting-knife and narrowed his eyes, trying to pierce the darkness. He felt a fool. Had Caswallon not warned him endlessly about staring into fires? Now he could not see clearly. A giant shadow rose above the bush and Gaelen screamed a warning to the others.
Layne rolled from his blanket with knife in hand, standing in a half-crouch beside Gaelen. ‘What is it?’ Gaelen pointed at the thing beyond the bush. It was at least eight feet high, its head round like a man’s except that the jaws were huge and rimmed with curving fangs. Gwalchmai and Lennox had left their beds and were staring horror-struck at the creature.
Gaelen pushed his trembling hand towards the fire, grasping the last of the branches they had stacked. It had not been stripped of its dry leaves for they would be good tinder for the morning blaze. Lifting the branch, Gaelen held it over the flames. The leaves caught instantly, flaring and crackling. On trembling legs, Gaelen advanced towards the beast holding the torch before him.