worth; then you stole Skallivar. You told me you lost it in the fight that brought you back to us, but I no longer believe you. What happened to it?”
Oracle rose and walked to the rear of the cave. He returned carrying a long bundle wrapped in cloth. Placing it on the table, he untied the binding and opened the bundle. There lay a shining sword of silver steel. “You want it?” Oracle asked.
Taliesen sighed, and flipped the cloth back over the blade. “No. Damn you, man! You crossed the Lines of Time. You will die and never know the chaos you gave birth to. I have tried to put it right, and have only succeeded in creating fresh paradoxes.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Without the sword Sigarni was crushed, defeated, and slain.”
“But you said she was here!”
“As she is. I tried to help her, Caracis, but she died. I crossed the Lines finding another Sigarni, in another world. She died. Time and time again I traveled the Gates. Always she died. I gave up for a long while, then I returned to my quest and found another Sigarni who was fated to die young. She defeated her first enemy, and then the second, Earl Jastey. She did it with the help of Caracis. You remember that, do you not?” Oracle looked away. “And Caracis, once again, stole her sword. But this time she asked me to return it to her. That had never happened before. I did not know what to do. And now-suddenly-she is here. A victorious queen carrying this sword.”
“I did not want to part with it,” whispered the man who had been Caracis.
“You had such talents, Caracis,” said Taliesen softly. “How was it that you became such a wretch?”
“I wanted to be a king, a hero. I wanted songs sung about me, and legends written. Is that so shameful? Tell me, did she rule well?”
“She won the final battle, and held the clans together for forty years. She is a true legend and will remain so.”
Oracle grinned. “Forty years, you say? And she won.” Hauling himself to his feet, the old man fetched a jug of honey mead and two goblets. “Will you join me?”
“I think I will.”
“Forty years,” said Oracle again. “I could not have done it. Forty years!”
“Tell me of the boy Gaelen.”
Oracle dragged his mind back to the present. “Gaelen? He’s a good lad, bright and quick. He has courage. I like him. He will be good for Caswallon.”
“How does Caswallon fare?”
“As always, he walks his own path. He has been good to me… like a son. And he eases my shame and helps me forget…”
“Have you told him of your past?” inquired Taliesen, leaning forward and staring hard at Oracle.
“No, I kept my promises. I’ve told no one of the worlds beyond. Do you doubt me?”
“I do not. You are a willful man and proud, but no one ever accused you of oath-breaking.”
“Then why ask?”
“Because men change. They grow weak. Senile.”
“I am not senile yet,” snapped Oracle.
“Indeed you are not.”
“What will happen to the Queen?”
Taliesen shrugged. “She will die, as all die. She is old and tired; her day is gone. A sorcerer long ago sent a demon to kill her. He made a mistake and cast his spell too close to a Gateway. The beast is almost upon her.”
“Can we not save her?”
“We are talking of destiny, man!” snapped Taliesen. “The beast must find her.” His stern expression relaxed. “Even should the demon fail, she will die soon. Her heart is old and worn out.”
“At least she achieved something with her life. She saved her people. I’ve destroyed mine.”
“I cannot make it easier, for you speak the truth. But it is done now.”
“Is there truly no hope?” Oracle pleaded.
The druid sighed and stood, gathering his long staff. “There is always hope, no matter how slender or unrealistic. Do not think that you are the only one to feel regret. The Farlain are my people, in a way you could never comprehend. When they are destroyed my life goes with them. And all the works of my life. You! You are just a man who made a mistake. I must bear the cost. Hope? I’ll tell you what hope there is. Imagine a man standing in Atta forest at the birth of autumn. Imagine all the leaves are ready to fall. That man must reach out and catch one leaf, one special leaf. But he doesn’t know which tree it is on. That is the hope for the Farlain. You think the idiot Cambil will catch the leaf?”
“Caswallon might,” said Oracle.
“Caswallon is not Hunt Lord,” said Taliesen softly. “And if he were… the clans are sundered, and widely spread. They will not turn back an enemy as strong as the Aenir.”
“Did you come here to punish me, druid?”
“Punish you? I sometimes wish I had killed you,” said Taliesen sadly. “Damn you, mortal! Why did I ever show you the Gate?”
Oracle turned away from him then, leaning forward to add fuel to the fire. When he looked back the druid had gone.
And he had taken the sword…
“You are a little unfair on Caswallon,” Maeg told her father as he sat in the wide leather chair, chuckling as the infant Donal tugged at his beard. Maggrig was well into middle age, but he was still powerful and his thick red beard showed no grey. Donal yawned, and the Pallides Hunt Lord brought the babe to his chest, resting him in the crook of his arm.
“Unfair to him?” he said, keeping his voice low. “He married my only daughter, and still he raids my herds.”
“He does not.”
“I’ll grant you he’s stayed out of Pallides lands recently-but only because the Aenir have cut off his market.”
“It is tradition, Father,” argued Maeg. “Other clans have always been fair game; and Caswallon is Farlain.”
“Don’t give me that, girl. That tradition died out years ago. By God, he doesn’t need to raid my cattle. Or Laric’s. And sooner or later someone will catch him. Do you think I want to hang my own son-in-law?”
Maeg lifted the sleeping child from Maggrig’s arms, laying him in his crib and covering him.
“He needs excitement, he does it because he enjoys it.” The words sounded lame, even to Maeg. For all his intelligence and quick wit, Caswallon refused to grow up.
“He used to enjoy taking other men’s wives, I hear,” said Maggrig.
Maeg turned on him, eyes flashing. “Enough of that!” she snapped. “He’s not looked at another woman since we wed… well, he’s looked, but that’s all.”
“I can’t think why you married him. Did you know he’s got my prize bull in the meadow behind the house? Now there’s a sight to greet a visitor, his own stolen bull!”
“Take it with you when you go,” said Maeg, smiling.
“And be seen by all the men of the Farlain? I’d sooner they thought it was a present.” He shook his head. “I thought you’d change him, Maeg. I thought marriage would settle him.”
“It has. He’s a wonderful husband, he cares for me.”
“I don’t want to kill him,” admitted Maggrig. “Damn it all, I like the boy. There must be other ways to get excitement.”
“I’ll talk to him again. Are you sure that’s your bull?”
“Sure? Of course I’m sure. The night he took it, Intosh and seven others chased him for hours-only he and that damn crofter Arcis had split up. Caswallon led Intosh a merry run.”
“He must have been furious,” said Maeg, keeping the smile from her face.
“He’s promised to have Caswallon’s ears for a necklace.”
