All around the ridge men were smiling and laughing. Others wept for joy and hugged their comrades. Taybard Jaekel opened his eyes and saw Jakon Gallowglass sitting beside him, tears in his eyes. ‘I had a wonderful dream,’ he said. ‘I saw Banny and Kammel. I was going to cross a river, but they wouldn’t let me.’
Gallowglass patted his shoulder. ‘You’re back now, Jaekel. Back among the living.’
The Moidart moved away from them all, and stood staring southwards as his son climbed to the enemy position. No-one fired a weapon, and within minutes the cheering began.
Time flowed by.
At last Gaise reappeared. He strolled down the slope, his golden hair gleaming in the sunlight. He did not walk towards his own waiting men, but moved off towards a stand of trees to the west.
Just before he reached them he stopped, lifted his hands in the air, and tilted his head to the heavens.
A single shot broke the silence.
Gaise Macon could feel the growing strength of Cernunnos within him as he walked from the enemy camp. His right arm spasmed and he almost lost control of it. ‘Let yourself go, kinsman,’ came a voice in his mind. ‘You cannot hold me back. You know that.’
‘I know,’ Gaise told him. He walked on. His legs were feeling heavier, and it was an effort of will to propel himself forward. He looked up. The trees were closer now, but not close enough.
‘Why did you not kill your enemies?’ asked Cernunnos. ‘Now I will have to do it for you.’
‘I wanted to show you that we can learn.’
‘I always knew that a few of you humans were worthwhile, kinsman. It is just that there are not enough of you.’
Gaise tottered on. Then his legs ceased to move. He stared at the trees. ‘I do have a gift for you,’ he said.
‘I already have your gift. Let your spirit go!’
‘You have shown me how to live like a god. Now you can learn what it is to die as a man.’
Gaise raised his arms, and tilted back his head.
The silence was shattered by a single shot. Gaise grunted as the ball tore into his chest, ripping through his lungs. His body slumped to the ground. As his life faded he felt Cernunnos desperately, and unsuccessfully, trying to heal the wound.
Hidden in the trees Mulgrave stood up, took the Emburley rifle by the barrel and smashed it against the trunk of an oak. Then he slumped to the ground and began to weep.
High on the western ridge the Moidart cried out and began to run to where his son lay, arms spread out upon the grass. Thousands of men swarmed out behind him.
The body began to glow, brighter and brighter. The Moidart could not gaze upon it and shielded his eyes with his hands. A cold wind blew. The light flared out over the gathering multitude. The Moidart felt its power wash over him. When he lowered his hands and opened his eyes the body of Gaise Macon had disappeared.
The grass beneath the Moidart’s feet shimmered and writhed. Small blue flowers swelled from the earth. All across the battlefield they grew. It was as if the sky had painted the earth.
From the ridge to the south came two riders, followed by thousands of soldiers. The riders approached the Moidart. The first man stepped down. He was middle-aged and sandy-haired. He bowed to the Moidart. ‘I am Eris Velroy. I command the army of Lord Winterbourne.’
‘Winterbourne is dead,’ said the Moidart, still staring at the spot where his son had fallen.
‘I guessed that. I do not begin to understand what happened here today, my lord,’ said Velroy. ‘But it is inconceivable that we should continue the fight. Do I have your permission to withdraw my men and travel south?’
‘I lost my- son today,’ said the Moidart. ‘My son. Do you have sons?’
‘One, my lord.’
Then go home and joy in that.’
The Moidart walked to the spot where Gaise had fallen. Something glinted upon the lush grass. He reached out and picked it up. It was a partially flattened musket ball of solid gold.