Kaelin felt a growing warmth in his injured shoulder, and what had been constant pain for more than a day now began to recede.
‘Even some of the dead came back to life,’ said Rayster. ‘The giant, Huntsekker. He was shot three times and stabbed. He had died as they were trying to staunch the bleeding. And Colonel Galliott. I saw him, Kaelin. He was shot through the heart!’
Leaving Rayster Kaelin ran back up the slope, in time to see Gaise Macon dismount and walk towards his father.
The Moidart backed away from him. ‘Do not heal me!’ he shouted. ‘Do not! You do not know what I have done!’
Gaise Macon approached his father and placed both hands on the older man’s shoulders. ‘I know everything, Father. Everything. I know all your past evils. I even know much of what you may accomplish in the future. But now you will have to find another road to redemption, for I am taking away your pain.’ The Moidart’s head sagged forward. ‘There is something else,’ said Gaise. ‘All my life you have been tormented by the fear . . .’
‘I do not want to know!’
‘I think you do. I am your son, Father. Blood of your blood.’
All across the ridge the healing continued. Men began cheering and shouting. Wounds disappeared, strength was restored.
‘What happens now?’ whispered the Moidart.
‘I will be a god for a little while. Then I will be gone.’
‘Oh, Gaise . . .’ The Moidart shook his head.
Gaise Macon drew the man into an embrace. ‘Farewell, Father,’ he said.
Gaise turned and walked down the slope towards the earth ramparts. As he did so the corpses lying there began to stir. And not just the men. Within moments horses began to whinny, and struggle to their feet.
Gaise walked on.
Kaelin Ring ran to where the Moidart was standing. ‘We have to stop him. The Dark God will return. Everything we have fought for will be worth nothing.’
The Moidart ignored him. The Wyrd of the Wishing Tree wood moved through the throng, and took Kaelin by the arm. ‘All will be well,’ she said. Kaelin saw there were tears in her eyes.
Gaise was still walking across the field of the fallen. All around him men were rising from the earth, both Eldacre and enemy. The southerners stood for a while, and then began walking back towards their lines. The Eldacre men scrambled up the slope.
General Konin approached the Moidart. There were three holes in the front of his blood-drenched tunic. ‘There are no wounds,’ he said, opening his tunic and baring his chest. ‘No wounds.’
Beck took hold of his arm. ‘You are back with us, my friend.’
‘I was at a river. We all were. Was I dreaming?’
Distant shots sounded. The Moidart ran to the edge of the slope. Some of the southern soldiers on the eastern ridge were shooting at Gaise. He walked on unconcerned. Not a shot struck him. Then the shooting ceased, and the sound of shouts of joy echoed across the valley floor.
For a while Gaise disappeared among the enemy.
‘Why is he bringing them back too?’ asked Beck. ‘Sweet heaven, will we have to go through this carnage yet again tomorrow?’
‘The war is over,’ said the Moidart. ‘No-one will fight now. Not even Winter Kay.’
‘He is dead, my lord,’ said Rayster, moving forward from the shadows. ‘I cut his head from his shoulders back in Eldacre.’ Rayster told them of the raid, and then of how Gaise had come in the night and healed the sick, the dying, and even the recent dead.
As the dawn rose over the mountains they saw Gaise Macon walk from the eastern ridge and begin to move towards the enemy positions on the southern slopes. Hundreds of southern soldiers followed him. Other Eldacre men and Rigante crossed the valley floor, heading west towards where the Moidart and the others were standing. Bael Jace and Mantilan climbed to where they stood. Mantilan embraced Beck and Konin, and the three old friends moved away.
The sun climbed higher in the sky, and a fresh breeze blew over the battlefield. The air was curiously scented. To the Moidart it smelled of rose petals, to Kaelin Ring it was like dew-covered heather, to Rayster the scent was of lavender. For every man it was something different.