‘And I die?’
‘Yes.’
‘You don’t make serving you sound very attractive.’
‘I promised you the truth, Stormrider. I will not take your life. You will give it freely. You will take my skull in your hands and you will ask me to return.’
‘Why would I do that?’
‘To win, Gaise Macon. To save the lives of those you love. To destroy the enemy utterly. When you accept the skull you will be a god for a few hours. You will have all the powers I once possessed. In that time you can do as you will.’
‘Why would you give me that time?’
‘I will have no choice. It will take me some hours to fully control your body, to fill it with the essence of my being. But in those hours you will be a Seidh, Gaise Macon. That will be my gift to you. Until then be assured that I will not show the Redeemers how to pierce the ward spell Powdermill has cast. This war will be fought between men. You have my promise on that. And now I shall leave you to rest. Rest is most important for a human. The mind needs to be sharp.’ The golden figure rose. ‘The Rigante made me proud today,’ he said.
‘What happened to this beloved son of yours?’ asked Gaise.
‘He chose life as a man and died after three hundred and twenty-two years.’
Gaise heard the sorrow in his voice. ‘You were close, then?’
‘We were until he cut off my head. The boy was misguided. It is a familiar tale, Gaise, and one which you will understand more than most. Fathers and sons, squabbles and conflicts. The laws of nature cannot be avoided – even by the gods. Ah, but that reminds me. You asked your father a question back in Eldacre. He gave an elliptical answer.’
‘Yow can pierce our ward spells?’
‘Of course. They are tiny. The Redeemers cannot, so put aside your fears. I do not share with them what I observe. You asked your father why he carried you from the flames. Would you like to know why?’
‘No.’
‘It also explains why he and you have never found that bond of love you so desperately needed as a child.’
‘Tell me,’ said Gaise.
‘Your mother had an affair with a clansman. Kaelin Ring’s father, Lanovar. He was golden-haired, and had one eye of gold and one of green. When you were born and the Moidart saw your eyes he believed you to be the result of his wife’s infidelity. He would have had you killed, save for one small doubt.’
‘My great-grandmother had the same eyes.’
‘Exactly. So he has lived in torment ever since, never knowing if you are the only son he will ever have, or if you are the son of the man who cuckolded him. But when the flames engulfed the manor house he acted as a father should. Heroically. Instinctively. Like a Rigante.’
‘Is he my father?’
‘Do you really wish to know?’
Gaise hesitated, then he sighed. ‘No,’ he said.
‘Farewell, Stormrider. When next we meet I will give you what you ask for. Though first you will receive a visit from the Wyrd. Delightful woman. If I were but a thousand years younger and alive . . . ah, well. She will bring you something of mine. Keep it safe for when you need it.’
‘Why would the Wyrd do anything for you?’
‘Because she must, Stormrider. Win or lose, this is her destiny also.’
The spirit disappeared.
The month that followed saw frenzied activity on both sides of the border. In the north the Moidart recruited men, leaving Galliott and Mulgrave to oversee the training. In the south Winter Kay began gathering three armies, each more than twenty thousand strong. The massacre of Sperring Dale’s force had galvanized the Redeemers, and stories of the atrocities committed by the ‘foul northern barbarians’ spread through the land. Winter Kay was now leading a holy war of vengeance upon the evil men who had killed the king.
He sent a second advance column against the lands of the Finance. They were turned back by Gaise Macon. Four hundred Varlish prisoners were taken. All but one were hanged and then beheaded. The survivor was placed in a wagon loaded with the heads of his comrades and sent back to the south. Other skirmishes followed. The fighting was brutal and vicious. No prisoners were taken by either side.