Today they would muster and pitch their tents. Tomorrow Cambil, the Games Lord, would announce the order of events. And then Deva would start the first race.
Movement to her left caught her eye. She turned and watched as the Druid Lord approached her. ‘Good morning, Taliesen,’ she said, smiling to hide her apprehension. She didn’t like the old man; he made her skin crawl and she had often heard her father speak of his eldritch magic.
‘Good morning, Deva. How is the Games Maiden?’
‘I am well, my Lord. And you?”
‘I am as you see me.”
‘You never seem to change.’
‘All men change. You cannot fight the years. I wondered if you might do me a small service?’
‘Of course.’
‘Thank you. Will you walk with me a way?’
‘Where?’ she asked, fear taking the place of apprehension.
‘Do not worry. I shall not harm you. Come.’
The old man moved away towards the western woods and Deva followed some paces behind. Once in the trees Taliesen stopped and retrieved a long bundle lying behind a fallen trunk. Unwrapping it, he removed the sword found by Agwaine.
‘What are you doing?’ asked Deva, stepping back.
This must be returned to its owner,’ he told her.
‘I thought the old woman was dead.’
‘She is – and she is not.’
Deva felt the colour ooze from her face. ‘You’re not going to conjure her ghost?’
‘No, not her ghost.’ He smiled gently. Trust me, little one. Take the sword in your hands.’ He offered it to her, hilt forward. She took it; it was heavy but she was strong and held it firmly.
Taliesen closed his eyes and started to whisper sibilandy in a language Deva had never heard. The air about her began to crackle and a strange odour pervaded the wood. She wanted to run, but was frozen in fear.
The druid’s eyes opened and he leaned towards Deva. ‘Walk into the mist,’ he said. Deva blinked and stepping back she saw a thick grey mist seeping up from the ground, billowing like smoke some ten paces before her. ‘There is no danger, girl,’ snapped Taliesen.
Deva hesitated. “What is waiting there?’
‘You will see. Trust me.” Still she did not move and Taliesen’s patience snapped. ‘By God, are you a Farlain woman or some lowland wench afraid of her own shadow?’
Deva steeled herself and walked forward, holding the sword two-handed, the blade pointing the way. The mist closed around her. Ahead she saw flickering lights. Her feet were cold now. She glanced down and saw, to her amazement, that she was walking in water. No, not in. Upon! Momentarily she stopped as a large silver fish swam beneath her. ‘Go on!’ came the voice of Taliesen in her mind.
To her right she heard the sound of a waterfall but it was strangely muted, muffled. Looking straight ahead she walked across the lake pool, and saw a crowd of armed men at the poolside carrying torches. At their centre stood a young woman. She was beautiful, though her hair was bright silver, and she wore dark armour.
‘Stop now!’ came Taliesen’s voice. Deva waited, the sword heavy in her hands. The warrior woman waded out into the pool. The water was thigh-deep as she approached where Deva stood.
‘Who are you?’ the armoured woman asked.
‘Say nothing!’ ordered Taliesen. ‘Give her the sword.’
Obediently Deva reversed the blade, offering it to the woman.
For a moment their eyes met, and Deva felt chilled by the power in the other’s gaze. ‘Can you read the future, spirit?’ asked the Queen. Taliesen whispered another order and Deva turned away, walking slowly back across the surface of the pool and re-entering the mist.
The old druid waited for her in the sunshine. He was sitting on the grass, his cloak of feathers wrapped around his scrawny shoulders, his face grey with exhaustion.
Deva knelt beside him. *Who was she?’ she asked.
‘A Queen in another time,’ he answered. Tell no one of what passed here today.’
The following day almost four thousand clansmen, women and children thronged the fields, gathering round the Whorl Hill on which was set the legendary stone of Earis, by which he had pledged to lead the Farlain to safety beyond the Gate. The stone itself was black, but studded with clusters of pearl-white deposits which caught the sunlight and sparkled like tiny gems. Although a man could encompass it with his arms, it weighed more than two hundred pounds.