you wish to proceed?'
Finnigal suddenly felt foolish, and a little ashamed. If the Sea Wolves were coming, he would need every fighting man he could find. He looked at Bane, and saw the contained anger in the man. 'This has been a tense day,' he said, by way of an apology. 'Take your men into the forge and arm them.' Turning to his men he called out: 'Put away your swords and continue with the evacuation.'
Leaving the bowmen outside Bane led the others through to the rear of the forge and the armoury beyond. The bald, stooped figure of Nanncumal stepped in front of the doorway.
'What are you doing here, Bane?' he asked. 'Bringing more shame upon the family?'
'Naturally,' said Bane. 'However, we have little time for debate, Grandfather. The enemy is coming and I need armour and weapons.'
'You are letting him do this?' Nanncumal asked Finnigal.
'I have instructed him to do it,' said Finnigal. 'Bane and his men are now under my orders.'
This is madness,' persisted Nanncumal. 'These men are robbers and killers.'
'Stand aside, Grandfather,' said Bane softly.
'Do it!' roared Finnigal. Nanncumal took a step to the left and Bane went by him into the armoury, his men trooping after him. Finnigal approached the elderly blacksmith. 'They are pledged to protect the refugees, and we badly need them, sir,' he said.
'But there are no Sea Wolves close by,' said Nanncumal. The Lady Meria insists that Vorna is mistaken.'
'I hope she is right,' said Finnigal, 'but I do not believe that she is.'
From inside the armoury came the sounds of whooping and laughter.
'Do you know,' asked Nanncumal, 'how much that armour is worth? Each mailshirt costs ten ounces of gold, and you are giving them away. You will have to answer for it.'
'I doubt that,' said Finnigal. 'I am charged with protecting the Lady Meria. If she stays, I stay. So it is likely that by dusk today I shall be dead.'
The old man looked at him, and his expression changed. 'You are a good man, Finnigal,' he said. More laughter came from inside. 'I'd better see what they are taking.'
Finnigal nodded and returned to the main street.
The evacuation was continuing at an even greater pace now and Finnigal smiled. Many of the people had dismissed the fears of a Vars force approaching, but they had no wish to remain in a settlement where a hundred outlaws had gathered.
Prasalis approached him. This may not be wise, sir,' he said. 'I know some of those men. The thin bowman by the wall there is Wik. He's a cold killer. He'd slit his grandfather's throat for a bent copper coin. Then there's the Norvii, Valian. The king has warrants out on him for rape and murder. There are at least a dozen others with no belly for a smash-skulls-or-die skirmish.'
'As matters stood this morning,' Finnigal told him, 'we had twenty men, and some fifty middle-aged volunteers facing a force above two hundred strong. Now we have one hundred and seventy men. Some of them may be cowards, but they are here, Sergeant.'
'And what if it is all a trick, sir, and they have come to rob and kill?'
'Then I will have made a dreadful mistake. I don't, however, think that will prove to be the truth. I looked into Bane's eyes. I do not think him treacherous.'
'Just because he looks like the king doesn't mean he will act like him,' Prasalis pointed out.
'By the gods, I actually feel like a soldier,' said Gryffe, holding out his arms and admiring the sleeveless mailshirt. He chuckled, then gazed up at the sword rack on the wall. He swung to Nanncumal. 'No battle axes?'
'No axes,' replied Nanncumal. Gryffe lifted down a longsword.
'This will do,' he said.
'It will not do,' said Nanncumal, striding forward and snatching it from Gryffe's hand. This is a rider's weapon. Do you know nothing? It is blade-heavy and meant to be swung downwards from the saddle.' Replacing the sword he pushed past several other outlaws and took down a longsword with a leather-covered grip and curving quillons. It was some eight inches shorter than the first blade. 'Here, numbskull!' he said. 'Feel the balance of this!'
Gryffe took it. 'I have to admit it feels better,' he said.
Nanncumal sighed. 'You expect these men to stand up to Sea Wolves?' he asked Bane. 'The Vars are born ready to fight. They are utterly ferocious. Gods, man, you know this. You've fought them yourself!'
'You are right, Grandfather,' said Bane. 'We'll send a messenger to the Vars asking them to wait for a week while we find better men to oppose them.' He smiled as he said it, and the old man suddenly chuckled. Then his expression hardened.
'I had believed… hoped that this story of the Vars was some nonsense dreamed up by Vorna. But it's not, is it?'
'No, it is not. Would you help my men choose suitable weapons? I need to see Finnigal.'
'Aye, I'll help them. I can't help feeling it will be like measuring a hound for a hat – an interesting but pointless exercise.'
'A plain speaker, isn't he?' said Gryffe.
Bane nodded, and left the forge. Finnigal was standing beneath Eldest Tree. Hundreds of Three Streams dwellers were trudging past him, heading for the west.
'I have scouted some possible areas for ambushing the Vars,' said Bane. 'Perhaps you'd like to ride out and see them for yourself?'
'No need,' said Finnigal. 'I won't be coming with you.'
'How then will I learn of your orders, Captain?' asked Bane, with a smile.
Finnigal laughed, but there was little humour in it. 'You won't. You'll take command. Since your arrival quite a few of the good folk of Three Streams have reconsidered their decision to stay in the settlement. But not the Lady Meria, and some fifty others. My men and I will stay and fight the Vars. With luck we'll reduce their numbers by at least thirty. Also, since some of those staying are young women, the Vars will probably dally here awhile before giving chase.'
'This is daft, man,' said Bane. 'Compel them to leave.'
'How does one compel the king's mother? She is not a soldier, and therefore not under my command. Be serious, Bane. The old lady has made her decision. I can say nothing to sway her.'
Bane stood silently for a moment. 'That is a terrible waste of twenty good men,' he said. 'However, perhaps there is an alternative. It will require you to trust me. Later on – if there is a later on – you can berate me publicly.'
'What is your plan?'
'Best that you do not know. Then there can be no question of collusion. I suggest you take your twenty riders to the top of the hill, to examine the ground beyond for possible fighting sites. In the mean time I will organize the evacuation.'
The soldier removed his iron helm and pushed back his mail hood. 'The Lady Meria', he said, 'has gone to the Roundhouse with the others who are remaining. Some of them have changed their minds, and she is seeking to strengthen their resolve.' He shook his head. 'Ah well, Bane, I think I'll take a ride with my men.'
'First have them bring a wagon to the Roundhouse,' said Bane.
Finnigal walked away and Bane returned to the forge. His men were gathered outside. All of them now wore breastplates and helms and were carrying swords and round wooden bucklers, edged with iron.
He called Wik to him. The outlaw leader had no mailshirt, but was carrying a longbow and a quiver of arrows. 'Take the men to the brow of the hill and wait for me there,' said Bane.
'So far it is the easiest gold I've ever earned,' said Wik.
'The day is not over yet,' Bane reminded him.
Keeping Gryffe, the stocky Valian and the crippled Grale with him Bane returned to Eldest Tree, and waited until two Iron Wolves drove the last wagon to the Roundhouse. The men climbed down and mounted their horses. Finnigal and the seventeen other riders came into view and the troop rode off towards the west.
'Time to pay my compliments to a dear relative,' said Bane. 'Grale, you get ready to drive the wagon. You two come with me.'
