Jaim placed his huge hand on Banny’s shoulder. ‘Do not call me sir. My name is Grymauch. It is a good name, and my friends use it.’
Banny nodded, unsure of how to respond. Kaelin joined them. He sat quietly, rubbing his forearm. ‘Those swords are heavy,’ he said.
‘The wood is hollow,’ Jaim told him. ‘There is a centre rod of lead to give them the same balance as a steel blade.’ He grinned at Kaelin. ‘I hear you are soon to Walk the Tree with a young Varlish girl,’
‘There’s no talk of marriage,’ said Kaelin. ‘She is my friend, that is all.’
‘Then you’ll be walking your Varlish friend to the Beltine Feast?’
‘You mustn’t call it Beltine. It is the Feast of the Veiled Lady. Beltine is a pagan festival, born of devil worship.’
‘Pah! What nonsense.’ Jaim leaned in close to Kaelin, sniffing loudly.
‘What are you doing?’
‘I’m picking up traces of Varlish bullshit on you, boy.’
Kaelin burst out laughing. ‘That coming from the man who last had a bath when the world was young. By heavens, Grymauch, your armpits could fell an ox.’
Banny lay back on the grass and listened to their argument with great pleasure, feeling himself a part of their easy camaraderie. After a while Jaim fetched a canvas sack, and from it drew a bottle of golden uisge. He took several deep swallows and offered it to Kaelin, who shook his head.
‘Good for you, lad. Cleans the blood.’
‘I’ve no wish to get maudlin,’ Kaelin told him. ‘In a few minutes you’ll be talking about the old days when men were men.’
‘Ah, true enough,’ admitted Grymauch. ‘So tell us about this walk to the feast with the beautiful Varlish maiden.’
‘Why do you keep saying Varlish?’ snapped Kaelin.
‘Because that’s what she is, Kaelin. Are you in love with her?’
‘I don’t know. I like her company, and . . . she is very beautiful.’
Grymauch took another drink. ‘Have you kissed her? Be honest.’
‘A man shouldn’t talk about such things,’ said Kaelin, embarrassed now.
‘Aye, maybe he shouldn’t. So let me say this: if you have kissed her and you still don’t know whether you’re in love, then maybe you aren’t. Beautiful women are a wondrous temptation, Ravenheart. But, by all accounts, Chara is a good lass. So you listen to your uncle Jaim. Don’t bed her until you are sure that you want to Walk the Tree with her.’
‘I don’t want to talk about this,’ said Kaelin. ‘It is not seemly.’
‘If you must sow your seed,’ continued Grymauch, ignoring his protestations, ‘and I fear a man must, then there are plenty available who will not have their hearts broken by it. I myself visit the earth maiden at the old mill house.’
‘Parsha Willets?’ said Kaelin, pulling a face. ‘She must be close to forty.’
‘She’s a good girl and big-hearted,’ said Jaim.
Kaelin laughed aloud. ‘By big-hearted you mean she extends credit?’
‘I do,’ said Jaim.
‘You are a disgraceful man, Grymauch.’ Kaelin chuckled. ‘It is no surprise that decent people avoid your company.’
‘Will you be attending the feast, Grymauch?’ asked Banny, more to practise use of Jaim’s name than anything else.
‘Perhaps, lad. I’m still considering it.’
‘You won the fist fighting two years ago. There’s another tournament this year, they say.’
‘Not for me, Banny. The Varlish will gather round the circle and bay and cheer as clansmen whack and thud at each other. I’ve no mind to add to their entertainment.’
‘The tournament is open this year,’ said Kaelin. ‘There’s thirty chaillings to be won. I’ve heard that there will be Varlish looking to win it.’
‘Is that so?’ replied Jaim, taking another deep swallow.
‘According to Captain Galliott two fighters are coming up from the south. Big men. Varlish champions. I expect they’ll be looking to show that clansmen are easy meat.’
Jaim chuckled. ‘You are trying to goad me, boy. I’m not so drunk I cannot see it.’
‘I am not trying to goad you,’ Kaelin told him, with a wink to Banny. ‘You are getting too old to fight, Grymauch. You’ve said it yourself. I think you should let the tournament pass.’