‘You are an able and astute young man,’ he said. ‘Some years ago you entered the barracks building at Black Mountain and freed a prisoner. A brilliant and well thought out action, requiring initiative and nerve.’ Kaelin stood very still. ‘I mention this to show a little goodwill,’ continued the Moidart. ‘On another day I would have had you arrested and hanged, but – happily for you – this is not another day.’ The Moidart looked away from Kaelin and called out, ‘Come in and join us, Master Powdermill!’
A panel behind Kaelin slid open, and the little man with the gold teeth entered the room. ‘Are we alone?’ asked the Moidart.
‘We are, my lord.’
The Moidart swung back to Kaelin. ‘My understanding is that you are acquainted with a woman known as the Wyrd of the Wishing Tree woods.’
‘She is a friend of mine,’ said Kaelin.
‘Good. There are those who want her dead.’
‘Are you one of them?’
‘Not today. My enemies want her dead. Therefore I want her alive. These enemies have great powers, Master Ring. They can attack her through magic, and through might. You cannot protect her from magic. You can, however, use your strengths and your skill to ensure no assassin reaches her. You can also tell her that she has an ally in the Moidart.’
‘An alliance she would not welcome,’ Kaelin pointed out.
‘I dare say you are correct. Have you heard recently from Call Jace?’
‘No, but he was well when last I saw him. I shall tell him you asked about his health.’
‘He is not well now, Master Ring. Two days ago he had a stroke, and is paralysed down his left side.’ The Moidart gestured towards the little man with the gold teeth. ‘This is Master Powdermill. Like the Wyrd he has an ability to see events over great distances. The Black Rigante are, at this moment, leaderless. The timing is unfortunate. By the spring an army will be marching on us. I can raise perhaps three thousand good fighting men, two thousand more in chaff and cannon fodder. Ten times that number will oppose me. A force of Rigante would be most welcome.’
Kaelin suddenly laughed. ‘I find this hard to believe,’ he said. ‘The man who murdered my mother and father, and hundreds of other Rigante men, women and children, believes the clan would fight for him. I admire your gall. If an army is coming against you I hope they take you, and rip your heart out.’
‘Yes, yes,’ said the Moidart. ‘I am sure you feel better for that. Now that it is out of the way let us look coolly at the facts. The army that will come will devastate the land, butchering the people of the north in their thousands. All the people, not just Varlish. Destruction, terror and chaos will sweep the land. For some reason – though I have yet to ascertain why – the enemy is fascinated by Rigante history and myth. Their leader has been gathering maps of Black Rigante lands for some years. It is he who seeks to kill the Wyrd. Why her death is important to him I have – as yet – no idea. It is my hope that she will. All I require from you is to protect her as best you can. Powdermill will contact you, and perhaps, together, we can find a way to thwart the enemy.’
‘Who is this enemy?’ asked Kaelin. ‘Luden Macks?’
‘No, the threat will not come from the Covenanters, but from Lord Winterbourne, the marshal of the king’s armies, and his Redeemers.’
‘You are standing against the king?’ said Kaelin, amazed. ‘But your own son is a part of that army.’
‘Indeed he is – if he still lives. Fate, Master Ring, often displays a grim sense of humour – as evidenced by this conversation. You are my natural enemy. I do not deny it. Both blood and history make us what we are. Should we both survive the coming bloodshed – which, sadly, is highly unlikely – we will become enemies again. I would certainly enjoy watching you hang. At this moment, however, you are important to me. Will you protect the Wyrd?’