MIDNIGHT FALCON by David Gemmell

Valanus swung and saw his own force vanishing. ‘Soldiers of Stone!’ he called out. ‘Hold your ground. One more charge . . . one more . . .’ His voice faded away.

And he stood alone.

Bane approached him. ‘You fought bravely, Valanus. Your name is known through all the world. Go now and find peace.’

‘I am not dead!’ screamed Valanus. ‘This is Rigante magic! My men will come back! Get away from me. I shall wait for my men!’ He spun on his heel and ran, his fleeing form lost in the swirling snow.

Bane awoke back in the stone circle. Banouin added fuel to the dying fire. Bane sat up, and began to rub life into his cold hands.

‘I had not thought of crying out for the living,’ said Banouin. ‘That was clever. I thank you.’

‘It was nothing,’ said Bane, rising to his feet and moving towards his horse.

‘Are you leaving now?’ asked Banouin.

‘Of course. I did what I came for.’

Banouin stood miserably by as Bane saddled the gelding. ‘Will you ever forgive me?’ he asked.

Bane sighed. ‘I forgive you, Banouin. That is no lie. I wish you well.’

‘But you cannot forget what I did? Put it aside.’

‘No, I cannot forget.’ Bane stepped into the saddle, swung his mount, and rode from the circle.

Chapter Eleven

The winter was the harshest in living memory. Rigante cattle, already decimated by the lung blight, died in their hundreds, and, but for the king’s granaries, deaths from starvation among the tribes would have numbered in their thousands. Even so, in some remote areas cut off by blizzards, whole communities suffered losses, mainly among the old and the very young. In some parts people were even eating the bark from trees in a bid to fill empty stomachs.

The people of Three Streams suffered enormous hardships, for Braefar had not kept the granaries full, instead selling off surplus grain to the Cenii during the autumn. Connavar stripped him of the title of laird and installed Govannan in his place.

For Bane, his farm in the lowlands, the winter was not as deadly. He and his men had baled enough hay to feed his winter herds, and his losses were few. Govannan came to him at midwinter, and bought cattle to feed the population of Three Streams. Bane demanded, and received, top price for his beef, paid in gold.

As the weather worsened he sent another thirty steers to the settlement, this time without charge.

A revolt began in the lands of the Northern Pannone, led by a Pannone noble named Guern. Several of the king’s granaries were ransacked and looted. Connavar sent out his Iron Wolves to put down the rebellion. Guern, however, avoided any direct military clashes, he and his men going into hiding, then gathering together to strike at remote outposts. Bendegit Bran was put in command of the Wolves and lured Guern and his band into a trap. Scores were killed or taken, but Guern escaped. The situation might still have become critical, for the ransacking of granaries led to greater starvation among the Pannone. Guern could have increased his popularity by distributing his stolen grain. Instead he chose to sell it, to raise money for armour and weapons. Connavar shipped in supplies from the lands of the Ostro and the Gath to feed the Pannone, and the revolt died in its infancy. Even so, the cost had been enormous, and food supplies were severely depleted.

Then, on the first day of spring, in Connavar’s fortieth year, three hundred long ships beached near Seven Willows on the eastern coast, and fifteen thousand Vars, led by King Shard, invaded the lands of the Rigante. Simultaneously in the south the emperor Jasaray, leading eight Panthers of twenty-four thousand men, came ashore in the lands of the Cenii.

Bane guided his horse carefully up the icy hill and reached the crest. He paused there, staring down at the lowlands and the endless sweep of the Narian Forest. Nestled against its eastern border was the long rectangular stone-built farmhouse, with its two barns close by, and a dozen, small round houses that served as quarters for his men. The steeply dipping road ahead was pitted and icy. He dismounted and led the horse on the long walk home. Bane’s hood was topped with snow and sharp shards of ice had formed in his beard.

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