'No! I didn't mean…'
Bane drew his sword and advanced on the slender figure. 'Leave him! Don't kill him!' said the king, and then he slumped to the ground. Bane stood for a moment, his cold eyes locked to Braefar's tortured face.
'Get away from here, you snake!' he hissed. 'If I ever see you again I'll kill you where you stand.'
For a moment Braefar didn't move. Bane's sword came up. Braefar turned and sprinted for the woods.
He ran and ran, legs pumping, heart racing.
Bane was stunned. He thought Riamfada's prophecy had been proved wrong. He and Connavar had killed the rebels, and the king had but a few minor scratches and bruises. But now, as he looked down at the grey-faced man sitting quietly, his back to a column of stone, Bane knew he was dying. The dagger had plunged deep.
As the light faded Connavar began to shiver. Bane removed his own cloak and draped it around Connavar's upper body. 'Are you in pain?' asked the younger man.
Connavar coughed and blood dribbled into his beard. 'A little,' he confessed. 'Where is Wing?'
'He ran into the woods. Why did you want him spared?'
Connavar leaned his head back against the stone. He smiled. 'He's my little brother,' he said. 'I've looked after him all my life.'
'He's a treacherous dog – and he's killed you.'
'I came… here to die,' said Connavar. 'That was the price the Morrigu wanted. I don't know why. She always made it clear that the defeat of Stone was… important. Without me…' He fell silent for a moment. 'What are you doing here, Bane?'
'A friend of yours asked me to come. Riamfada.'
'The little fish,' said Connavar.
'Fish?' queried Bane.
'When he was… human… his legs were useless. Govannan and I used to carry him to the Riguan Falls. We… taught him to swim.'
Bane looked into the pale face of the dying man. 'He was the boy you were carrying when the bear attacked?'
'The same. The Seidh gave his spirit a home.' Connavar groaned, his face contorting. 'Damn, but this little wound is troublesome.' He looked up into Bane's face. 'I am glad you're here, Bane. It would have hurt my soul to die without…' He winced again, his body spasming.
'Don't talk,' said Bane. 'Just rest easy.'
'To what purpose?' asked Connavar, forcing a smile. 'When we lifted the Morrigu I saw many things, and I shared moments of your life. When you won that race, and came running towards me… You remember?'
'Of course I remember. You turned your back on me.'
'I am sorry for that, Bane. When I saw you running ahead of the others I was so proud I thought my heart would break. But I couldn't stay. To have embraced you and acknowledged you as my son would have meant seeing your mother, and I had sworn never to cast eyes upon her again. If I had my life over I would do so many things differently.'
'You blamed her for your own shortcomings,' said Bane, without anger.
'No,' said the king. 'I never blamed Arian. I loved her from the moment I first saw her. The fault was entirely mine. But I had to pay for my evil, for the slaughter of innocents and the death of Tae.' The king lapsed into silence, and Bane thought he had died. The night grew colder.
A movement came from behind. Bane rose and whirled, sword in hand. A straw-haired boy in a faded tunic stood there. He looked startled as Bane swung on him. Bane put away his sword. 'What are you doing here, boy?' he asked.
'I saw it,' said the lad. 'Wolves chased me and I climbed a tree. I saw the fight, and that man stab the king. Is he going to be all right?'
'Gather some wood for a fire,' said Bane, then returned to Connavar's side. Reaching out he touched the king's throat. A pulse was beating weakly there. Connavar's eyes opened, and he reached up, taking Bane's hand.
'I had a vision,' he said. 'I saw myself dying here, but I also saw myself leading a charge against the enemy. I didn't understand how both could be true. I see it now… I see it!' Once more he lapsed into unconsciousness.
The boy gathered wood and laid a fire close by. Then he found several pieces of flint, and Bane sat quietly, listening to the rhythmic strikes of the fire stone. At last a flame caught in the tinder and the wood began to crackle. The boy nursed it to life, then eased himself round to sit on the other side of the king. 'He's not going to die, is he?' he asked.
'What is your name, boy?'
'Axis. The king came here once and gave my da a bull, for ours had died.'
'You keep the fire going, Axis,' said Bane gently. 'We'll keep him warm.'
'He is going to die then?' said the boy, tears spilling to his cheeks.
'Yes, Axis, he is going to die. Tend to the fire.'
Bane glanced down. The king's hand was still holding to his own. Bane felt the warmth in the fingers, and saw the battle scars on the king's arm. Blood had ceased to flow from the wound in his side, but Bane knew that internal bleeding continued. He had seen wounds like this before in the arena. It might take hours yet, but death was certain.
The moon rose above the stone circle. Bane looked round at the boy by the fire. 'Go and check the horses the killers rode,' he said. 'Perhaps they had food. You look hungry.'
'I am hungry,' said Axis. 'Shall I bring the horses into the circle? The wolves may still be close by.'
'Yes, do that,' said Bane.
The boy ran off and came back moments later leading three horses, which he tethered inside the circle. 'The rest ran off,' he said. Axis moved past the fire, gathering the reins of the king's white gelding, bringing that also close to the fire. Then he searched the saddlebags of the other mounts, coming up with several thick slices of ham, wrapped in muslin. He offered some to Bane, and the two sat in silence as they ate. Time passed slowly. The boy Axis fell asleep by the fire and Bane found himself thinking of the past, of his hatred for Connavar, of his yearning to be accepted and acknowledged. He had lived so long dreaming of the day he would kill this man whose hand he now held.
The king groaned again. Bane looked at his face, and saw his eyes were open. But they were not focused on him. 'Ah, Wing,' he said, 'don't look so sad. Everything will be all right.'
'Connavar!' said Bane, squeezing the king's fingers. Connavar blinked then looked at Bane.
'He came back,' he said. 'He is waiting for me.'
Bane said nothing, for there was nothing to say.
'Put… my sword… in my hands,' said Connavar, his voice fading. The blade was leaning against the stone behind the king. Bane lifted it, placing the hilt within reach. Connavar did not move. Carefully Bane opened his fingers, pressing them closed round the fabled hilt. The dying man gave a last sigh, then his head sagged, his body sliding into Bane's arms. For a little while Bane sat holding the king, feeling the weight of Connavar's head against his shoulder. Then he laid the body down.
Riamfada walked into the stone circle and knelt beside the body, leaning over and kissing the brow. He turned to Bane. 'I thank you for being with him,' he said.
'Why didn't you tell me about Braefar? I could have stopped him.'
'I did not know exactly how it would happen, Bane, only that it would happen.'
'I'd like to find him and kill him myself,' said Bane.
'There is no need. Braefar is dead. He ran into the woods, and slashed his own throat with the dagger that killed Connavar. Now he and his brother are together, and all the ill feeling is gone.'
'Then it was Braefar the king saw as he was dying?'
'Aye, it was.'
Bane rose.
'Have you made your choice?' asked Riamfada.
'I have – as I think you knew I would.'
'Of course,' said Riamfada. 'You are the son of Connavar, and I would expect no less.'
