“I’m talking about you, son.”
Caim shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He wasn’t sure how to take that. “I’d just as soon be on my way.”
The old man nodded. “You’re a lot like your father. Met him once. A few years before his death.”
Caim clenched his jaws together hard enough to make his teeth creak. His mind leapt from one question to the next, but he couldn’t get them past his tongue, which was frozen to the roof of his mouth. Why are you telling me this now? What do you expect me to do?
“He was a firm man. But he treated his people well, even the dirt-farmers who leased his property and couldn’t afford more than a couple of bits for rent.”
“Is that so?”
Hagan met his gaze and held onto it. “Everyone knew one thing about your father, lad. He prized his family above all else.”
Caim looked away first. All the questions flew out of his head. They didn’t matter anymore. None of it mattered.
Hagan took another puff from his pipe. “But let me ask you something. You got any idea what you’re doing?”
“I suppose not.”
“I only ask because I’ve also heard my daughter’s taken a liking to you.”
“I can assure you that-”
Hagan held up a hand to forestall him. “Liana can take care of herself well enough. If you weren’t treating her the way she wanted, then I reckon you’d be walking funny this morning.”
Caim smiled. “I believe you’re right.”
“But she’s got a big heart. Gets that from her mother, too. I just wanted you to know that.”
“I do.”
“Pa,” Liana called from the hut. “Come inside and break your fast.”
Hagan took the pipe out of his mouth, tapped out the ashes against the stone, and ground them under his heel as he stood up.
“Coming inside?”
Caim sighed. “No. I’m fine.”
The old man nodded as he strode past. Caim waited until the door closed before he started down the path through the snow. As he crossed the central yard, he saw a gathering of men outside the lichen-clad remains of the old donjon tower. Coils of smoke rose from a fire in the gathering’s midst, lifting toward the ominous gray heavens. More people than he would have guessed lived in these old ruins, at least seventy or eighty men in all. A tall outlaw with a tattered cap was speaking.
“-lost a lot of blood.”
“Will he make it?” another asked.
“Who’s to say? It’s in Nogh’s hands. But he’s a stubborn bastard. If anyone can survive such misery, it would be our Lord Caedman.”
There was murmured agreement. Ramon stood on the other side of the small bonfire. Grendt was at his side, gnawing on a leg of mutton. So the slimy rat survived after all? Too bad. Oak and the brothers, Dray and Aemon, stood near them, and a few others he recognized, but many faces were new to him.
“What will we do if he dies?”
“The Dark take you, you Hurrold mutt!” a big woodsman with a thick brown beard roared, jabbing his finger over the flames. “Don’t you go cursing him with your ill words.”
“We’re all thinking it, Malig!” the insulted outlaw replied.
“That don’t mean you should be-”
“Quiet!”
Ramon stood up to the fire and spoke. “There’s no use fighting the wind. Fralk asked a fair question. The clans are scattered. What’s left of our warriors have been winnowed by war and famine. What will we do if Caedman cannot lead us?”
“It’s time we made peace with Eviskine!”
When that comment was shouted down, Ramon held up his arms to quiet them, but it wasn’t until the wooden door to the tower opened that the gathering fell silent. All turned as a new arrival emerged to join the circle. Caim recognized Killian.
The gray-haired veteran looked around at the faces. “He has awoken.”
Scattered cheers went up through the crowd, but a few, Caim noted, held their tongues. Ramon and Grendt were among them.
“He wants to see Ramon,” Killian said. “And Tuan and Vaner, and Keegan, too, if your father won’t join us.”
The veteran looked around as if searching for someone. His gaze stopped on Caim. “And you, Du’Vartha.”
Murmurs sifted through the crowd as Killian went back inside with the selected men following behind him. Caim hesitated. Eyes darted in his direction until he joined the file.
The inside of the tower had been converted into a home. Steps that had once led to the upper floors ended a few feet from the ground. Squares of thatch had been used to fill the gaps in the ceiling. Dry rushes covered the floor. A fire in a low hearth provided some warmth if not much light. On another wall, a shield was displayed. It looked like it had seen some action. Under the many scrapes and scratches lay a rampant bear with golden brown fur. Off to the side, a garland of dried flowers hung from a nail.
Caedman was sitting up on his own, which was a miracle as far as Caim was concerned. The outlaw captain didn’t look much better than he had at the prison. Deep purple circles ringed his eyes, which were glazed and bloodshot in the low firelight. His cheeks were swollen and discolored. The white mantle of a clan thane was draped around his shoulders like a shawl.
As they entered, Killian gestured for everyone to come near. Caim joined the others in a loose circle around the bed, which smelled of old sweat.
“Father Ell,” Keegan whispered. “Is he…?”
“He’ll live.” Killian stood by Caedman’s head. “But he’s broke up inside. The gods only know if he’ll ever walk again, much less hold a sword.”
Caedman watched them as they gathered around him. Caim stiffened as those eyes passed over him. They were filled with pain, but there was also something else, an iron-hard core that could not be touched by misery or fear. The others looked away rather than face their leader. Caim understood. It was doubtful any of them had ever believed in the rebellion until Caedman recruited them. Now, confronted by the prospect of life without his leadership, they doubted once more. The movement could die this very night.
“I have spoken with my kinsman,” Caedman wheezed, his voice slurred by the broken jaw. “I cannot lead you. It must pass to another.”
“No, Caedman,” Vaner said. “You are our captain. We will follow only you.”
The outlaw leader shook his head and made what might have passed for a smile. “Vaner, I value your friendship, but it is Eregoth which deserves your loyalty. I must entrust you to someone who can achieve our goal. A nation of free men.”
Ramon stepped forward, and all eyes turned toward him-all except for Keegan, who rubbed his mouth as he looked away.
“I will lead them,” the big man said. “You can trust me to see it through.”
Caedman sighed. “You are the bravest of us all, Ramon. I know you would fight until the end. But you are not my choice.”
Caedman coughed again and grimaced before he continued. “You’ll need more than courage to fight the Eviskine. You will need cunning and wisdom. You will have to be ruthless.”
Caim’s throat tightened as those stern eyes fell upon him, holding him in place. What would you have of me? You know what I am, what I’ve done.
“Like his father,” Caedman said, “who came to our land in search of a new beginning, and in the end gave his life for freedom, this man from the south is our brother. He will be the one to lead you.”
