‘What about my soul-name?’ asked Kaelin.
‘Oh, yes. Forgive me, boy. I was lost in moments past. As we watched the hound attack the wolves Lanovar whispered something. I didn’t hear it quite, so I moved alongside him. “Ravenheart,” he said. I didn’t understand at first. Then he drew in a breath and said: “My son . . . Ravenheart.” I knew then, and I promised him I would see that your mother was told that this was to be your soul-name.’
‘Most of my friends don’t have soul-names,’ said Kaelin.
‘The Varlish fear them. The names hold us to the land and give us pride. The Varlish need to see that pride eaten away, so they claim soul-names are a sign of heresy and paganism. Few parents want to risk a visit by the Knights of the Sacrifice, and then being staked above the fire.’
‘Why do you think Raven rescued the stag?’ asked the youth.
‘I don’t believe that he did intend to rescue the creature. Raven was a wolfhound. He was born to fight wolves and protect cattle. I think he was just trying to reach Lanovar and the wolves were in his way. Once he came upon them instinct took over. The stag was irrelevant.’
‘I think it was a magical stag,’ said Kaelin.
‘Magical? Why would you think that?’
‘Because it brought me my soul-name, and because the Wyrd told me.’
‘Be careful, Kaelin. The Wyrd knows some ancient spells, and she’s dangerous to know.’
Kaelin smiled. ‘We are sitting on a hillside waiting to steal the Moidart’s prize bull and you tell me the Wyrd is dangerous to know. You are dangerous to know, Uncle.’
‘Aye, well I guess that’s true, right enough.’
Jaim fell silent as a group of men emerged from a thatched building to the north of the paddock. They walked to the fence, and stopped to gaze at the bull. The animal swung its shaggy head and stared at them, then pawed at the ground. Jaim chuckled. ‘Settle back, Kaelin. Now we’ll see how skilled they are.’
Three of the men clambered up to sit on the fence. A fourth ducked through between the posts and approached the bull, hand extended. Wind noise, whistling through the heather, prevented Kaelin from hearing what the man was saying, but he knew he would be speaking softly, making soothing, friendly noises to calm the beast. Jaim was watching the scene intently. ‘That’s good. That’s good,’ he said softly, as the unknown man below moved alongside the animal. The bull was a little calmer now. ‘Ah, you have a talent, man,’ said Jaim. ‘But don’t get cocky now. He’s still not sure of you. Just stay away from his head.’
Kaelin smiled. Jaim was probably not even aware he was speaking aloud. The man below was stroking and patting the bull’s flanks. The animal ceased to paw at the ground and was standing quietly. The man eased himself around the huge horns and reached for the bull’s heavy nose ring. ‘Too soon!’ whispered Jaim. The bull lunged forward. The man was hit hard by the bull’s forehead. Instinctively he grabbed the horns. The head dropped, then flicked upwards. The cattleman was hurled up. One hand lost its grip on the horns, the other clung tight. The man came down across the bull’s back, the impact causing him to let go of the horn. Half stunned, he fell to the earth. His comrades on the fence shouted at the bull, seeking to divert its attention. They succeeded better than they hoped. The beast charged, its massive head thundering against the fence post, which split down the middle. Two of the men managed to jump clear just as the bull connected. The third fell headfirst into the paddock. The bull swung on him. Kaelin saw a streak of crimson smear the air. The man was flung some ten feet across the paddock. He landed heavily and did not move.
The first cattleman, still dazed, staggered across the paddock towards the fence. The bull ignored him, as it ignored the fallen man. Kaelin saw blood dripping from one of the horns. He transferred his gaze to the fallen herdsman. ‘Is that man dead?’ he asked Jaim.