The evacuation was continuing at an even greater pace now and Finnigal smiled. Many of the people had dismissed the fears of a Vars force approaching, but they had no wish to remain in a settlement where a hundred outlaws had gathered.
Prasalis approached him. This may not be wise, sir,’ he said. ‘I know some of those men. The thin bowman by the wall there is Wik. He’s a cold killer. He’d slit his grandfather’s throat for a bent copper coin. Then there’s the Norvii, Valian. The king has warrants out on him for rape and murder. There are at least a dozen others with no belly for a smash-skulls-or-die skirmish.’
‘As matters stood this morning,’ Finnigal told him, ‘we had twenty men, and some fifty middle-aged volunteers facing a force above two hundred strong. Now we have one hundred and seventy men. Some of them may be cowards, but they are here, Sergeant.’
‘And what if it is all a trick, sir, and they have come to rob and kill?’
‘Then I will have made a dreadful mistake. I don’t, however, think that will prove to be the truth. I looked into Bane’s eyes. I do not think him treacherous.’
‘Just because he looks like the king doesn’t mean he will act like him,’ Prasalis pointed out.
‘By the gods, I actually feel like a soldier,’ said Gryffe, holding out his arms and admiring the sleeveless mailshirt. He chuckled, then gazed up at the sword rack on the wall. He swung to Nanncumal. ‘No battle axes?’
‘No axes,’ replied Nanncumal. Gryffe lifted down a longsword.
‘This will do,’ he said.
‘It will not do,’ said Nanncumal, striding forward and snatching it from Gryffe’s hand. This is a rider’s weapon. Do you know nothing? It is blade-heavy and meant to be swung downwards from the saddle.’ Replacing the sword he pushed past several other outlaws and took down a longsword with a leather-covered grip and curving quillons. It was some eight inches shorter than the first blade. ‘Here, numbskull!’ he said. ‘Feel the balance of this!’
Gryffe took it. ‘I have to admit it feels better,’ he said.
Nanncumal sighed. ‘You expect these men to stand up to Sea Wolves?’ he asked Bane. ‘The Vars are born ready to fight. They are utterly ferocious. Gods, man, you know this. You’ve fought them yourself!’
‘You are right, Grandfather,’ said Bane. ‘We’ll send a messenger to the Vars asking them to wait for a week while we find better men to oppose them.’ He smiled as he said it, and the old man suddenly chuckled. Then his expression hardened.
‘I had believed . . . hoped that this story of the Vars was some nonsense dreamed up by Vorna. But it’s not, is it?’
‘No, it is not. Would you help my men choose suitable weapons? I need to see Finnigal.’
‘Aye, I’ll help them. I can’t help feeling it will be like measuring a hound for a hat – an interesting but pointless exercise.’
‘A plain speaker, isn’t he?’ said Gryffe.
Bane nodded, and left the forge. Finnigal was standing beneath Eldest Tree. Hundreds of Three Streams dwellers were trudging past him, heading for the west.
‘I have scouted some possible areas for ambushing the Vars,’ said Bane. ‘Perhaps you’d like to ride out and see them for yourself?’
‘No need,’ said Finnigal. ‘I won’t be coming with you.’
‘How then will I learn of your orders, Captain?’ asked Bane, with a smile.
Finnigal laughed, but there was little humour in it. ‘You won’t. You’ll take command. Since your arrival quite a few of the good folk of Three Streams have reconsidered their decision to stay in the settlement. But not the Lady Meria, and some fifty others. My men and I will stay and fight the Vars. With luck we’ll reduce their numbers by at least thirty. Also, since some of those staying are young women, the Vars will probably dally here awhile before giving chase.’
‘This is daft, man,’ said Bane. ‘Compel them to leave.’
‘How does one compel the king’s mother? She is not a soldier, and therefore not under my command. Be serious, Bane. The old lady has made her decision. I can say nothing to sway her.’