Bane stood silently for a moment. ‘That is a terrible waste of twenty good men,’ he said. ‘However, perhaps there is an alternative. It will require you to trust me. Later on – if there is a later on – you can berate me publicly.’
‘What is your plan?’
‘Best that you do not know. Then there can be no question of collusion. I suggest you take your twenty riders to the top of the hill, to examine the ground beyond for possible fighting sites. In the mean time I will organize the evacuation.’
The soldier removed his iron helm and pushed back his mail hood. ‘The Lady Meria’, he said, ‘has gone to the Roundhouse with the others who are remaining. Some of them have changed their minds, and she is seeking to strengthen their resolve.’ He shook his head. ‘Ah well, Bane, I think I’ll take a ride with my men.’
‘First have them bring a wagon to the Roundhouse,’ said Bane.
Finnigal walked away and Bane returned to the forge. His men were gathered outside. All of them now wore breastplates and helms and were carrying swords and round wooden bucklers, edged with iron.
He called Wik to him. The outlaw leader had no mailshirt, but was carrying a longbow and a quiver of arrows. ‘Take the men to the brow of the hill and wait for me there,’ said Bane.
‘So far it is the easiest gold I’ve ever earned,’ said Wik.
‘The day is not over yet,’ Bane reminded him.
Keeping Gryffe, the stocky Valian and the crippled Grale with him Bane returned to Eldest Tree, and waited until two Iron Wolves drove the last wagon to the Roundhouse. The men climbed down and mounted their horses. Finnigal and the seventeen other riders came into view and the troop rode off towards the west.
‘Time to pay my compliments to a dear relative,’ said Bane. ‘Grale, you get ready to drive the wagon. You two come with me.’
Bane walked across to the double doors of the Roundhouse, Gryffe and Valian just behind him. Throwing open the doors the three men strode inside. A large group of people were gathered at the centre fire, and the Lady Meria was talking to them. She fell silent as Bane approached. He looked into her eyes and saw both anger and astonishment.
‘Grandmother, how nice it is to meet you at last,’ said Bane.
‘Get out of my sight!’ she shouted. It surprised him that, after the first glance, she did not look at him, but turned her face away.
Bane grinned, then scanned the faces of the crowd. Most of them were elderly, but there were some young women, with small children by their sides. ‘The Vars will be here soon,’ he told them. The old ones they will kill, and the babes and toddlers. The young women they will not kill. Not immediately. But when they are finished with them they will cut their throats. That is the Vars way with prisoners they cannot take home as prizes.’
There are no Vars,’ said an old man. The Lady Meria has assured us—’
‘If the Lady Meria is right then you will all spend a few uncomfortable days and nights in open country. If she is wrong you are all dead,’ said Bane.
‘You will leave now!’ commanded Meria. ‘You are not welcome here!’
He bowed. ‘As you command, lady, so shall it be.’ Stepping forward he ducked down, threw his arm round Meria’s hips and hoisted her to his shoulder. She shouted and rammed her fists against his lower back. Ignoring her he swung towards the outraged crowd, many of whom had risen to their feet. ‘When the Vars come,’ he thundered, ‘have the courage to kill the children quickly.’ He started to walk away.
‘Where are you going with her, you brute?’ shouted a middle-aged woman.
‘To safety, lady. I suggest you all follow us.’
With that he carried the struggling Meria out of the Roundhouse and lowered her to the back of the wagon. ‘Understand this,’ he told her, his voice cold and hard. ‘If you run I shall catch you, and tie you to the wagon. You have lost a little dignity today. You will lose far more if I have to drag you through the mud and tie your hands and feet.’