‘You and I must ride to the Wishing Tree woods. Tonight. Alone.’
Bane laughed. ‘And why would I do this?’
‘Vorna came to me. She said it was of the utmost importance. Believe me, Bane, I do not want to ride with you. I have never wanted any part of you to touch my life. But Vorna is my friend, and I owe her more than I can ever repay. If you do not wish to ride with me I will go alone.’
Bane was silent for a moment. ‘And Vorna asked for me to ride with you?’
‘Aye, she did.’
‘Then I will go.’ He looked into the king’s face. ‘You know, for a long time I wanted to speak with you, to win your respect. And when that proved impossible I wanted to kill you. Not any more, Connavar. To me you are just another selfish and arrogant man heading for the grave. You will get there soon enough without my help.’
‘Are you ready to ride?’ asked the king.
‘I am ready,’ said Bane.
Vorna made her way slowly up the hill towards the Wishing Tree woods. It was an hour before dawn, and the gnarled oaks seemed sinister and threatening in the moonlight. Humans had long avoided the woods, for this was the realm of the Seidh, and the perils within were well known to the Keltoi.
In the past brave heroes had ventured into this dark place. Most had never returned, and one who did was aged beyond all reason. He had entered as a young man, proud, tall and strong. The following day he had returned as a mewling old man, toothless and tottering, his brain – like his strength – all but disappeared.
Vorna paused before the tree line, and sat down on a flat stone. The wind was chill here, and she wrapped her thick black shawl around her shoulders, lifting the rim over her head. Only one other Rigante, to her knowledge, had walked these woods unscathed – the child Connavar. Vorna sighed. What did the Morrigu want of her now? she wondered. And why did she require both Connavar and Bane?
Closing her eyes Vorna reached out with her mind, calling upon the Seidh goddess. There was no response. She tried to contact the Thagda, the Old Man of the Forest, the Tree Man who had aided Connavar in distant days past. Nothing.
Vorna shivered. The wind was bitter, and she yearned to walk into the wood, to sit with her back to a huge oak and block the cold ferocity of this icy breeze. With a single word of command she could have a fire burning, but the wind would blow it away in an instant, she knew.
Slowly and coldly time drifted by. At last she heard the sound of horses pounding on the hillside. Vorna stood and saw the two men riding towards her. This close to Wishing Tree her powers were heightened, and she felt the tension radiating from them, and knew that their ride had been a silent one. Sadness touched Vorna. Two good men, kind and brave, held apart by guilt and sorrow, grief and rage.
Connavar drew to a halt before her and stepped down from the saddle. ‘Well, we are here, Vorna,’ he said. ‘What is it you need of us?’
Bane leapt lightly to the ground, moved in close and embraced the witch. ‘You are cold,’ he said, rubbing her back. Removing his black sheepskin cloak he draped it over her shoulders. Vorna shivered with pleasure at the weight and warmth of it. She turned to Connavar.
‘I require nothing of you, Conn, my dear,’ she said. ‘The call came from the Morrigu. She came to me in a dream. She said she would meet us here, before the dawn.’
‘Then where is she?’ asked Bane.
‘I do not know. I have called to her, but she does not reply.’
‘I have no time for these games,’ said Connavar. ‘There is much to do and time is short. I will wait a little longer, but if she has not come I will leave.’
‘She told me to remind you’, said Vorna gently, ‘that you once asked a gift from her, and that one day she would call upon you to repay it. This is the time!’