Banouin shook his head, and felt his anger rise. ‘Better that than to ride around the countryside looking for earth maidens to rut with, to get drunk and fight with strangers; to be a windblown leaf skittering across the countryside.’
‘You think so?’ asked Bane, with a smile. His expression grew suddenly more serious. ‘We are all leaves, my friend. Against the mountains and the sea we are as fleeting as heartbeats. Nothing we build lasts. To the north of Old Oaks there is a buried city. I have been there. A farmer unearthed the remains of a great wall. There are blocks of stone weighing fifty, sixty tons, all laid one atop the other. Further on, in a sheltered valley, they found the head of a colossal statue. The nose alone was longer than a broadsword. What great man must this have been? A king perhaps. No-one knows his name, nor the name of his city. Perhaps he still walks the hills. Perhaps he and Forvar have become great friends.’ Bane sighed. ‘Ah, Banouin, you are a sweet and gentle soul. But, in an hour or two, while you are sitting somewhere pondering all the unfairness of life, I shall be naked with a soft and yielding woman.’
With that Bane heeled his horse forward. Banouin rode after him. ‘Tell me about the statue they found,’ he said.
Bane sighed. ‘You didn’t really hear a word I said, did you?’
‘Of course. But tell me about the buried city.’
‘Connavar ordered the wall excavated, but it was too large and too long. They think it extends for miles. According to Brother Solstice the men still working at the site are seeking treasure now. The Demon King needs gold to purchase weapons for his armies, and he hopes burial mounds will supply it.’
‘I wonder how they raised blocks of such size? And why?’ said Banouin.
That does it!’ said Bane suddenly. ‘You’re off in the past again – so I’ll see you in the near future.’
He galloped off towards the south-west and the stockaded town.
As with many Keltoi settlements the town of Sighing Water bore no sense of overall design or planning. The original Norvii settlement of some twenty homes had been built close to a stream that flowed from the hills, cascading over a series of white rocks and down to a pear-shaped lake. Positioned as it was less than twelve miles from the eastern coast and close to a river leading to a wide estuary it soon became a place of commerce. Timber was plentiful, the surrounding land rich and verdant, and soon the town began to grow. With the lowlands ideal for corn, the higher ground for cattle, sheep and goats, Sighing Water thrived. More and more houses were built. When iron ore and coal deposits were found less than two miles away the settlement swelled even further.
Now some three thousand people dwelt within the stockaded town, with more than four thousand more in the surrounding countryside. There were warehouses, shops, stalls, forges, clothing makers, leatherworkers, jewellers, and merchants of every kind. There were mills, tanneries, wagon makers, horse breeders, and a host of allied trades, including a fleet of horse-drawn barges to ferry goods to the coast.
At seventeen Bane had never seen such a sprawling town. He had thought Old Oaks large, but there were twice as many people here, and as he rode in through the open gates he felt uncomfortable, as if the sheer weight of multitudes was closing in on him. Pushing such thoughts aside he located a hostler and left his grey in the man’s care, asking that the beast be rubbed down and grain-fed.
The hostler, a middle-aged, round-shouldered man, asked if he planned to sell the gelding. Bane told him no.
‘You could get a fine sum, boy. He’s powerful and keen of eye. Is he fast?’
‘He likes to run,’ said Bane. ‘Tell me, where is the best earth maiden?’
‘The best what?’ queried the man.
The response surprised the youngster. ‘Earth maiden,’ he said more slowly, wondering if his Rigante accent had confused the man.
‘I do not know the term, boy.’
‘Young women who offer . . . company to a man.’