Bran bowed his head, then looked up at Brother Solstice. ‘I am sorry, my friend, for striking you.’
‘Forgiven and forgotten,’ said the druid. ‘Perhaps you should find Banouin – and listen to his report a second time.’
Bran nodded, then turned to Connavar. ‘You won’t die, Conn,’ he said. ‘You are destined to ride against Jasaray. Nothing will stop that.’
‘Nothing will stop my destiny,’ agreed Conn. ‘Are you back with us now?’
‘Aye.’
Then do as the Brother bids and seek out Banouin. We will talk more later, when Govannan and Osta return.’
Bran rose and left the tent. Brother Solstice remained. ‘Tell me of these two futures,’ he said.
Connavar told him of the rescue of the Morrigu, and her passing from the world. ‘In the first vision I am lying against a golden rock, my lifeblood seeping from me. I know the great battle will be fought the following day. I feel despair that I will not be there to fight it. Enemies lie dead on the ground close by. Then a young boy climbs down from a nearby tree and runs into the circle of stones. All goes dark then – and I know that I am dying.’
‘And the second?’ asked the druid.
‘I see myself on a tall horse, my armour shining bright, my helm in place. I draw my blade and hold it aloft. Fiallach is beside me. The great battle is underway and together we lead the charge down the slope.’
‘Perhaps these were not true futures, merely signs of what could be,’ said the druid. ‘They cannot, after all, both be true. You cannot die before the battle and fight in it thereafter. It seems to me that the most obvious choice of action is to avoid circles of stone.’
Connavar reached into his tunic and pulled forth a folded piece of parchment. This was brought by messenger to me this morning,’ he said, handing it to the druid.
Brother Solstice took the parchment and opened it. There, in Braefar’s flowing script, was the message: My dear brother, we have suffered a great misunderstanding. I have spoken to Guern and he agrees that the time has come to settle our differences. We will meet you at the Circle of Balg tomorrow at dusk. If you have any love left for me come alone, Conn. I assure you that there will be no treachery. It was signed Wing.
‘He must think you stupid,’ said Brother Solstice.
‘Yet I will go,’ Conn told him. The Morrigu asked me to make her a promise. She said, “When your brother calls upon you, do as he bids. No matter what else is pending, no matter the time or the greatness of events. You understand? Do as he bids.” I broke a promise once, long ago, and have lived with the shame and grief of it ever since. This promise – though it breaks my heart – I will keep.’
Then take a troop of men with you.’
‘How can I, my friend? He bids me to come alone.’
‘Oh, Conn, you know Braefar. He has always been weak, his actions inspired by jealousy for all you have achieved. His envy of you became malice years ago.’
‘I know that,’ said Conn sadly. ‘It was after I fought the bear. He and Govannan were there, but it was Govannan who rushed to my aid. Wing just stood there, terrified. He was young, he had no weapon, and he froze. No-one blamed him, but he saw contempt in everyone’s eyes after that. He was always trying to prove to me that he was worthy, and he tried so hard. He was so desperate for acclaim that he took risks, many of which failed.’
‘I know, Conn,’ said Brother Solstice. ‘We all know. Had he been any other man you would have dismissed him years ago. How long has he been in league with Guern and the Sea Wolves?’
‘More than a year. Jasaray sent him money to help finance a rebellion among the Pannone. One of the few projects Wing handled with care. He recruited Guern, supplied him with coin and weapons. The two of them were made for one another, both bitter, eaten alive by envy. Guern was related to the old Laird, but when he died I sent Bran to govern the north.’ Conn poured himself a cup of water and drained it. He looked soul weary, thought Brother Solstice. ‘I did not know they had linked with Shard, though I suppose I should have guessed it. Wing began to believe that I was the source of all his misfortune, that his life would have been blessed had I never been born. He may even be right in that. I don’t know any more. What I do know is that Wing, when young, was a bonny lad. He loved me then. I was his big brother and he would follow me everywhere.’