‘He is gone, damn you! What do you want?’
‘The Rigante are charging!’ hissed Banouin.
Bane ignored him and kept his gaze locked to Valanus. ‘Then where is Oranus?’ he said. ‘Is he not your aide? Where is Oranus?’
‘What trick is this?’ shouted Valanus.
‘It is no trick,’ Bane told him. He glanced at Banouin. ‘Dress me as a Rigante warrior,’ he said. ‘Quickly now!’
Instantly the armour of Stone disappeared, replaced by a swirling pale blue and green chequered cloak, and a shining mailshirt.
Swinging on his heel Bane waited until the advancing Rigante were close. ‘Connavar!’ he shouted. ‘Let Connavar show his face!’ The charge slowed. ‘Fiallach! Where are you? Bendegit Bran, let us see you! Govannan, come forth!’ Bane walked to meet the advancing men, still calling out the names of their generals. The spirits slowed to a walk, then began glancing nervously around. A Rigante noble pushed his way to the front of the line.
‘Why do you call for Connavar?’ he asked. ‘Are you an agent of the enemy? Do they seek a truce?’
‘Where is Connavar?’ asked Bane.
The man hesitated, then looked around, scanning the ghostly ranks. ‘He is not with us,’ said the officer.
‘How can that be?’ Bane asked him. ‘This is Cogden Field. It was here that Connavar the King won his greatest victory. Fiallach rode with him, as did Bendegit Bran and Govannan.’ Bane looked into the man’s face. He was not young. His hair was thinning and his features showed the deep lines of his advancing years. ‘Maccus also rode with them,’ said Bane, remembering the stories. ‘Maccus who was more than sixty, and who led a charge that broke the left wing.’
‘I am Maccus. I remember that charge.’
‘It was a moment of great glory,’ said Bane. ‘So why are you here now?’
‘Here . . . ? I am here to fight the enemy.’
‘Why do you fight without Connavar? Without Fiallach and the others?’
‘I do not know. But I do know the enemy is before us.’
The spirit of Valanus advanced to stand alongside Bane. ‘What is happening here?’
‘One more charge, lads. One more charge and the day is ours,’ said Banouin softly.
Valanus looked as if he had been struck. He swung on the young druid. ‘Why do you say that? Why those words?’
‘Were they not the words you used before that last, courageous assault?’
‘Yes . . . no. The battle is not yet fought.’
‘Look around you, soldier,’ said Bane. ‘Here is Maccus, who died leading a charge against your wing. A spear tore open his throat.’ He swung on the elderly Rigante. ‘You remember that spear, Lord Maccus?’
‘I remember.’
‘If a spear tore open your throat on Cogden Field, why are you still here?’
‘I . . . I do not know.’
Banouin stepped in close to the Rigante general. ‘Someone is waiting for you, Lord Maccus. She has waited a long time. All men know the story of your love for your wife. When she died you were bereft. She waits for you now – in a far better place than this.’
‘Then . . . I am . . . dead?’ said Maccus. ‘The spear was not a dream? I remember lying on the ground, unable to breathe. I remember . . .’ His spirit faded from sight.
‘We are not dead!’ screamed Valanus. ‘This is a Rigante trick.’
‘You are all the dead of Cogden Field,’ cried Banouin. ‘And you have fought this battle a thousand times since. You are shades, ghosts, spirits. That is why Connavar and Appius are not here. They lived beyond the battle. Think! All of you, think! Remember the day, the awful slaughter. Remember how you died!’
Valanus backed away. ‘I cannot lose again,’ he said. ‘I am a Stone general. We do not lose. I will fight on. I will have victory.’ One by one the shades of the Rigante faded away. Valanus ran at them, waving his sword. ‘It is not over!’ he screamed. ‘Come back, you cowards! Come back and fight!’
Banouin began to cry out towards the milling soldiers of Stone, speaking this time in Turgon. ‘Be at peace, soldiers!’ he shouted. ‘You died valiantly, but you do not have to die again and again. Let this be an end. Move on from here. Seek out the better place that awaits you!’