‘Ah, none taken,’ said Gryffe, with a grin. ‘I’ll sharpen my sword.’ He wandered off to the rear of the house.
‘You misunderstood me,’ said Iswain softly. ‘What I was trying to say this morning was that I didn’t want my man put in pointless danger. But he is a man – and a good, brave man. There is nothing pointless about helping women and bairns in danger.’
‘I stand rebuked,’ Bane told her.
‘Just try to bring him back safe,’ she said. ‘And do not worry about the farm or the refugees. I’ll take care of things.’
Bane leaned in close. ‘There is something else you can do,’ he said. ‘At the back of the first barn there is an old chest, containing a few items I brought back from Stone. Underneath it, about two feet down, I buried another chest. This one is full of gold pieces. If for any reason I do not make it back, dig it up and pay every survivor the two gold pieces I promised them. The rest – and there won’t be much left – you can keep.’
‘You trust me with that much gold?’ asked Iswain.
‘Of course I do,’ he answered, with a smile.
‘Ah, Bane,’ she said, leaning in to kiss his cheek, ‘you are a fool sometimes, but I do love you.’
In the gathering darkness Gwen trudged back to the house of Meria. She had left Orrin sleeping peacefully in Vorna’s bed, and now, her shawl wrapped around her, she felt her emotions clash. The death of Ru and the saving of Orrin had come so close together that she no longer knew what she felt. Sadness and joy warred within her. What she did know was that, had little Badraig not been back at the house, she would have asked Vorna if she could stay the night. The last person she wished to see now was the hard-faced Meria.
Gwen was not a vengeful person, and there was no thought in her to punish Bran’s mother. She just wished she could be heading anywhere else than back to this house of disharmony. She considered collecting Badraig and returning to Vorna’s, but there was a great deal to pack for tomorrow’s journey. With a heavy heart she approached the door, pushing it open. Meria was sitting by the fire, but she surged to her feet as Gwen entered.
‘Is he dead?’ she asked fearfully.
‘No. Vorna healed him.’
‘But . . . she has no powers now.’
‘I saw her hold her hand over the poisoned ring, and ice formed under her fingers. The ring cracked and broke. I think she has powers still, Meria.’ Gwen walked past the older woman.
‘What are you talking about? Poisoned ring? What poisoned ring?’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ said Gwen. ‘Orrin is healed and well and sleeping. Let us leave it there. I am very tired.’
‘I want to know what happened in that house,’ said Meria, stepping in front of Gwen, who sighed and walked to the chair by the fire. She sat down and told Meria all that had happened, of how Orrin must have taken Ruathain’s ring, and how he had looped it around his neck.
‘Vorna thinks the poisoner planned for the ring to kill Connavar. It was a slow-acting poison, which is why it took so many months to kill my Ru.’
‘I don’t believe it was poisoned . . .’ began Meria.
‘Stop it!’ said Gwen. ‘I am not a fool, Meria. When that moonstone cracked open I saw the foulness that seeped from it. I could see then that the stone had been hollowed. As soon as it was removed from round Orrin’s neck he strengthened and was quickly well. What you believe, or do not believe, is up to you. I know what killed my son. It was no-one’s fault – save the murderers who intended harm to Connavar. No-one set out to rip Ruathain from the world. And I do not blame you for giving him the ring.’ She rose from the chair. ‘That is all there is to say – except that I shall be leaving tomorrow, with my sons. I believe Vorna when she says the raiders are coming. All who stay here will die, and I have seen too much of death lately.’