Cambil nodded. ‘I wish I could believe you, but I see a different Caswallon. I see a man who could have been Hunt Lord. Children imitate your walk, tales are told about you around the camp-fires. And yet what have you done? You steal other men’s cattle. What is it about you, Caswallon?’
‘I have no idea. I never listen to the stories.’
Caswallon watched as Cambil walked slowly down the slope towards the fire. Gathering his own cloak about him, he stared at the stars, mind wandering.
After about an hour he felt a cold wind blow against his neck, but the leaves about him did not stir. He turned. Behind him stood Taliesen, wrapped in his cloak of shimmering feathers and holding a staff of oak entwined with mistletoe.
Three boys are dead,’ he told the druid, gesturing to a place beside him on the flat boulder. The druid sat, leaning forward on his staff.
‘I know. The Queen also.’
‘Who was she?’
‘Sigarni the Hawk Queen. Did she say anything before she died?”
‘She said she would come again, so the boys tell me. And she thought I was someone she once knew.’
‘The old man you know as Oracle brought this upon us,’ said Taliesen. ‘I only hope I can make it right.’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘Seek Oracle and tell him you have spoken to me. Tell him that it pleases me for you to know his story. But when you have heard it, promise me you will repeat it to no one. Do you agree to this?’
‘I do.’
Maeg ran from the house, Kareen beside her, as the men appeared on the far hill. Other women streamed from crofts and homes. Men working in the fields dropped their tools and joined the rush.
Within minutes the hunters and the boys were surrounded. Cambil answered all questions and Caswallon led Gaelen through the throng to where Maeg waited. She moved forward, cupping Gaelen’s face with her hands.
‘Are you well, my bonny lad?”
‘Yes.’
She read the sorrow in his eyes and linked her arm in his for the long walk to the house. He had suffered so much in his life and now it was obvious that he had endured more pain. Her heart ached for him.
At the house the crofter Durk was waiting for Kareen. He asked after Gaelen and then left, taking the girl with him to walk up the hillside.
Gaelen was exhausted and stumbled to his bed while Caswallon
and Maeg sat together by the hearth. The clansman told her of the ordeal in the mountains and how well the boys had handled themselves.
‘He is a lad to be proud of, Caswallon,’ she said.
He grinned sheepishly. ‘I know. I was close to tears as he told me the tale.’
‘He’ll be a fine man.’
‘Sooner than you think,’ said Caswallon.
‘And how did you fare with Cambil for so many days?’
He shrugged. ‘The man fears me, Maeg. He thinks I plan to supplant Agwaine with Gaelen. Is it not madness? His doubts must sit on his shoulders like a mountain.’
‘He is a sad, lonely man. I’m glad you harbour no ill-will.’
‘How can I hate him? I grew up with him. He was always the same; he believed his father liked me more than him. Always he strived to beat me, and he never did. Had I been wiser, I would have lost at least once.’
‘It’s not in you to lose,’ she said. ‘You are a clansman. And a proud man – too proud, I think.’
‘Can a man be too proud? It harms no one. I have never insulted another man, nor abused my strength by destroying a weaker opponent. I do not parade my talents, but I am aware of them.’
‘Nonsense. You’re as vain as a flamingo. I’ve seen you trimming your beard by the silver mirror and using my brush to comb it flat.’
‘Spying on me now, is it?’
‘Yes, it is. And why shouldn’t I? Am I not your wife?’
He pulled her to his lap and kissed her. ‘Indeed, you are the best thing I ever stole from the Pallides. Except for that bull of your father’s.”