‘She said you would come,’ he said, his voice low, almost musical.
‘And I did,’ said Bane. ‘Who are you?’
‘I am . . . was . . . Riamfada. Will you sit awhile?’
‘My horse is waiting beyond the woods, and I have a long way to travel. So can we make this brief? Tell me why the Morrigu asked me here.’
‘Your mare is already wandering back to Three Streams, from where it will be returned to the farm you gifted to Gryffe and Iswain,’ said Riamfada. ‘Should you decide to travel to the coast I can send you there through the portal, and save you weeks of journeying.’ Riamfada lifted a slender hand and gestured towards the stones. The air rippled and Bane found himself staring down a sloping hillside at the port of Accia. The air rippled once more, the vision disappearing. ‘Sit for a while,’ said Riamfada. ‘I have long desired this meeting.’
‘Who are you?’ asked Bane again. ‘Or perhaps that should be what are you?’
‘Once I was human, like you.’ He smiled. ‘Well. . . not exactly like you. My legs were crippled and I could not walk. But I was Rigante, and I dwelt in Three Streams. I died there before you were born. On a Feast Night, surrounded by my friends. The Seidh brought me here to dwell among them.’
‘And now you are Seidh?’
‘No, you cannot become Seidh. But those of us who were once human have been taught certain . . . skills, shall we say, involving the manipulation of matter. It is probably simpler to say we have learned magic.’
Bane reached out and touched the young man’s arm. It was solid, the flesh warm to the touch. ‘You are no ghost then?’
‘No, not a ghost.’
Bane sat down on a flat rock. ‘So why am I here?’
‘To make a choice. As I said I can speed your way to the coast – or beyond if it pleases you. Once I could have transported you to Stone itself, but they tore down the circle that stood on the Fourth Hill to make way for a bathhouse and a market. But I can send you to a circle some twenty miles north-east of the city.’
Bane laughed. ‘The Morrigu would not have brought me here merely to save time on my travels. What is it she requires of me?’
‘She requires nothing, Bane. She asks for nothing. I was told merely to present you with alternatives.’
‘And these are?’
‘You can travel where you wish, to any of the circles around the globe of the world.’
‘Is there a circle in the White Mountains?’
‘The White Mountains of Varshalla, north of the land of the Vars ?’
‘Yes,’ said Bane.
‘Indeed there is. But why would you wish to go there? The tribes worship the gods of blood and the word among them for stranger is the same as the word for enemy. Even the Vars do not travel there.’
‘Someone I love is there,’ said Bane. ‘I would like to see her again.’
‘Then I can send you there,’ Riamfada told him.
Bane glanced down at the spider web shield. ‘Why do you need a shield?’ he asked.
‘It is not mine – though I crafted it. I made it for you, Bane, as I once made a sword for your father.’
‘It is a pretty piece, though one hefty cut would destroy it.’
The young man lifted the shield and carried it to a nearby oak, hanging it upon a broken branch. ‘Show me,’ he said.
Bane drew one of his short swords and walked to the tree. He lunged at the shield. The blade bounced away. He hacked and slashed at it, then stood back. There was not a single mark upon any of the wires. Sheathing his blade he lifted the shield, and was amazed by its lack of weight. Slipping his forearm through the two leather straps he hooked his fingers around the fist bar. Then looked for buckles to tighten the straps. The leather slid round his arm, shrinking until the straps fitted perfectly. ‘How do I remove it?’ he asked.