“I’ve killed five and wounded another.”
“Five? That’s not bad. Hand to hand, or with the bow?”
“Hand to hand. The wounded man I hit with an arrow.”
“Marksmanship’s not your strong point, then?”
“No. And you?”
“What about me?”
“Well, we seem to be talking about numbers killed, so I am asking you the same question.”
“I see. Why?”
“Because I like to know the caliber of my followers,” said Gaelen, grinning.
“I haven’t killed any. But I will.”
“I don’t doubt it.”
“Do you have a woman?” she asked suddenly.
“No.”
“Why?”
“She refused me.”
“I see,” said Lara.
“What do you see?”
“I see why you are so nervous around women.”
“I am not nervous around women, I am nervous with you,” he said.
“Why is that?”
Gaelen was growing hot and beginning to feel like a hunted rabbit.
“Well?” she pressed.
“I have no idea, and I don’t wish to discuss it,” he said primly. She laughed then, the sound deep and throaty, which only added to his discomfort.
On the first night of camp Gaelen avoided her, talking long into the night with Gwalchmai, who had returned from his scouting trip with Telor. Telor and his companions had remained in the north, and Gwal was due to rejoin them at first light.
“It was an uncomfortable day,” said Gwalchmai. “I think we only exchanged three words.”
“I’m sorry, Gwal. How does it look?”
“So far the route is clear. That Telor gives me cold chills, though.”
“Yes. Let’s hope he saves his anger for the Aenir.”
“Let’s hope they cut his damned heart out,” muttered Agwaine, joining them.
Gaelen shook his head. “No wonder the clans are always at war,” he said.
“How are you getting on with Lara?” asked Agwaine, his mouth spreading in a lecherous grin.
“What does that mean?” snapped Gaelen.
“She likes you, man. It’s obvious.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“She’s gorgeous, isn’t she? Not beautiful exactly, but gorgeous. And those breeches…”
“Will you stop this?”
“I wish she liked me.”
“I cannot believe this conversation is taking place. We are marching toward a battle, I’m trying to think about tactics, and all you can think about is… is… breeches.”
“What about breeches?” asked Lara, moving up to sit with them.
“Yes, Gaelen, tell her about the breeches tactic,” said Gwalchmai.
Gaelen closed his eyes.
“Well?” she said.
“You’re the authority, Gwal. You explain it.”
Gwalchmai chuckled. “No. If I’m to be with Telor by dawn, I’d best tuck up in my blankets. Excuse me.”
Gwal moved off to fashion a bed below an overhanging pine. Agwaine grinned and also moved away-despite Gaelen’s imploring gaze. “So?” said Lara. “What about breeches?”
“It was a jest. The clouds are bunching-there could be rain tomorrow.”
“Come with me,” she said, taking his hand. He followed her into the trees and they stopped some forty paces away in a circular clearing, screened by dense bushes. She led him to where she had placed her blankets and pulled him down beside her. The clansman was supremely ill at ease.
“What did you want to talk about?” he asked huskily.
“I don’t want to talk, Gaelen.” Leaning forward, she curled an arm around his neck and kissed him.
Thoughts of Deva vanished like ice on fire.
Leofas and Maggrig walked the length of the Folly as darkness gathered around them. The slopes on either side were steep and pitted with rocks and boulders, while the pass itself showed a steady incline toward the narrow center. The Aenir would be charging uphill and that would slow them. But not by much.
The two men were joined by Patris Grigor and a dozen of his archers. “It’s a magnificent killing ground,” said Grigor. “They’ll lose hundreds before they reach you-if they come in, that is. What if they bottle up the mouth of the pass?”
“We attack them,” declared Maggrig.
“That’s not much of a plan,” said Grigor, grinning.
“I’m not much of a planner,” admitted Maggrig, “but I think they’ll come at us. They’ve yet to learn fear.”
“When your arrows are exhausted, we leave. If we can,” said Grigor.
“Understood,” said Maggrig, walking back toward the campfires in the wide pass beyond.
The walls of the box canyon rose sheer, reflecting the red light from hundreds of small fires. Leofas, who had remained silent on the long walk, sat back on a boulder, staring out over the clan army as they rested. Some men were already sleeping, others were sharpening sword blades. Many were laughing and talking.
“What’s wrong, my friend?” Maggrig asked.
Leofas glanced up. In the flickering firelight Maggrig’s beard shone like flames, his blue eyes glittering, his face a mask of bronze.
“I’m tired,” said Leofas, resting his chin in his hands and staring out over the campfires.
“Nonsense! You’ll be leading the victory dance tomorrow like a first-year huntsman.”
The Farlain warrior looked up, eyes blazing. “Will you stop for a moment? I’m not a first-year huntsman, and I don’t need you trying to lift me. I’m old. Experienced. I’ve seen war and death. Anyone who can tell a sword point from a hole in the ground knows we have little chance tomorrow.”
“Then leave!” snapped Maggrig.
“And where would I go, Maggrig? No, I don’t mind dying alongside you. In fact, I don’t mind dying. My hope is that we cull their ranks enough for the other clans to have a chance of defeating them.”
“You think I’ve been foolish?” asked Maggrig, slumping beside him.
“No. We ran out of choices, that’s all.”
For a time they sat in silence, then Maggrig turned to his companion. “Do you mind if I ask you a personal question?”
“I don’t mind if you ask,” said Leofas. “I may not answer.”
“Why did you never remarry? You were only a young man when Maerie died.”
Leofas switched his gaze to the stars and the years slipped away like falling dreams. He shook his head. Finally he spoke, his voice soft, his eyes distant.
“I miss her most at sunset, when we’d go to the ridge behind the house. There was an old elm there. I built a seat around the base and we’d sit there and watch the sun die. I’d wrap us both in my cloak and she’d rest her head on my shoulder. It was so peaceful, you could believe there was not another living being in the world. I felt alive then. I never have since.”
“So why not remarry?”
“I didn’t want anyone else. And you?”
“No one else would have me,” said Maggrig.
