he carried on fighting. He was a stupid man, was Boile. And he was frightened of the dark. Last summer his hut burnt down because he left the fire blazing.' Wik laughed. 'He came running out with his leggings ablaze.' His smile faded. 'What in the name of Taranis was he doing standing his ground like that?'
'Why did you come back?' asked Bane.
Wik shrugged. 'I have no idea whatever. Did you see Grale defending the king's mother? Ah, of course you did. You killed the second of them.' Wik shook his head. 'Part of me wishes I'd never listened to you, Bane. I should have stayed in the forest. I knew who I was there.'
'Who were you?'
Wik thought about the question. 'I was nothing, though I didn't know it. Now I do.'
'So, what will you do? Go back to the forest?'
'I haven't made up my mind.' Wik suddenly shielded his eyes from the glare of the lantern and looked out of the opening. 'Riders coming,' he said. 'Soldiers!' He swore and clambered to his feet. He swayed and almost pitched from the loft, but Bane caught him.
'I don't think they've come to arrest you,' said Bane. 'Sit here. I'll see what they want.' He climbed down the wooden steps and walked from the barn. Some of the other outlaws had seen the soldiers, and Bane saw that they were nervous. He calmed them, and ordered them to continue the preparations for the feast he had arranged.
There were some thirty soldiers, all dressed in the black and silver armour of the Iron Wolves. But at their head rode a man in a patchwork cloak. Bane felt his stomach tighten. Moonlight shone down and Bane stood his ground, his eyes fixed on the king of legend. He was a big man, wide-shouldered, his long red and silver hair unbraided, his white-streaked beard cut close to his chin. He rode easily, sitting tall in the saddle. Bane felt his anger rise, but forced it down.
The riders came down the hill, skirted the paddock and drew to a halt. The king stepped down and approached the waiting warrior. Bane looked into his odd-coloured eyes, the mirror of his own. 'What do you want here?' he asked.
'We need to talk,' said Connavar, moving past him and striding towards the house. Angry now, Bane followed him.
Connavar pushed open the door and walked into the main room. Gryffe and Iswain were sitting by the fire. They both rose as Connavar entered. The huge red-bearded warrior stared at the newcomer, then recognized him and bowed. 'It's the king,' he hissed to Iswain. The plump woman folded her arms across her chest.
'Not my king,' she said.
Bane walked in. Connavar removed his cloak and swirled it over the back of a chair. Then he moved to the fire and warmed his hands. Gryffe glanced at Bane, who signalled for them both to leave the room. They did so. As the door shut behind them Bane spoke. 'Make this brief,' he said, 'for you are not welcome in my house.'
Connavar straightened from the fire and turned. 'That is understandable,' he said, 'and believe me it is not my wish to be here.'
'Then why come?'
'Two reasons. I have brought gold for the outlaws who helped Finnigal defend Three Streams. I understand you have promised them two coins each. I will double that, and repay you. I expect no-one else to suffer a loss for defending my family.'
'You intend to pardon them for their crimes?'
'Is that the price they asked for their aid?' queried the king, contempt in his voice.
Bane gave a cold smile. 'They don't need anything from you, you arrogant bastard! No more do I. Keep your gold and choke on it! What I did was not for Meria or the good folk of Three Streams. It was for Vorna. It was for friendship. As for the outlaws, yes they came because I promised them gold, but they stayed and died because they were men. Now speak your piece and then get out!'
Connavar's eyes blazed. 'Beware, boy, my patience has a limit.'
'As indeed does your gratitude,' said Bane. 'I expected no thanks from you. I expected what I have always received from you. Nothing at all. I had thought, however, you would have gathered these men who fought for you, and thanked them. For without them your mother would be dead, and your beloved Three Streams a pile of smouldering ash.'
For a moment he thought the king was going to attack him, such was the fury in the man's eyes. But Connavar stood very still, and Bane saw him struggle to remain calm. 'There is truth in what you say, Bane,' he said at last. 'And I am at fault here. Gather your men and I will speak to them. The other matter can wait until later.'
Bane had no need to gather the outlaws. Word had spread that the Battle King had come to the farm. The fabled Demonblade was among them. As Connavar strode out into the open they were huddled just beyond the front door. They fell back, and opened a path as he walked through to the firepit. Men gazed at the patchwork cloak, made up of the symbols of five tribes: the pale blue and green of the Rigante, the black of the Gath, the yellow and green of the Pannone, the blue stripes of the Norvii, and even the red circle on yellow of the southern Cenii. The cloak alone said it all – this man was beyond tribal dispute. This man was the High King of the Keltoi.
The flames from the firepit shone on his breastplate and greaves, glittering red on the rings of his mailshirt. The men stood in silence as he moved among them. Gryffe came out from the house and moved alongside Bane. 'Gives you the shivers, doesn't he?' he whispered.
When Connavar spoke his voice was low and deep, but it rumbled like thunder in the silence.
'Two days ago,' he told them, 'we fought a mighty battle against the Vars. Twelve thousand Rigante, Pannone and Norvii against fifteen thousand Sea Wolves. The grass of the field was red with blood, and the streams ran crimson. Great heroism was seen on that day – on both sides! Men of courage and valour, men who carried mountains on their shoulders. We were outnumbered, but we were fighting for hearth and home, fighting to protect our women and our children. That is the nature of a true man.
'But you, my friends, were not fighting for your loved ones or your homes. You stood against a foe who was not your enemy. You fought for those who were not your kin. I was told in Three Streams that you fought for gold. I have seen men who fight for gold. At the first reverse they break and run. Yet many of your number gave their lives upon that hilltop. They did not run. They did not plead. They fought! You fought! And in doing so you saved the life of my mother, the wife and children of my brother, Bendegit Bran, and the son of my dearest friend, Fiallach. I am proud of you all, and to each of you I offer my thanks.
'Every one of my soldiers receives payment for his services. And you on that day of courage were my soldiers. I have, therefore, brought gold for each of you. And with it I offer you pardon for all crimes committed before this day. Where is the man Wik?'
'I am here,' said Wik, striding out of the group.
Connavar offered his hand, and Wik shook it. 'In two days,' said the king, 'I ride south to face the greatest enemy of all. I need good men, Wik. Will you join my Horse Archers?'
'I will,' said Wik.
'Good man.' Connavar raised his voice. 'Any of you who wish to ride with us are welcome. I will supply the horses and the armour, the bows and the shafts. All I ask in return is that you bury those shafts in the hearts of Stone.'
A cheer went up, but Wik raised his arms to quell the roar. 'It was Bane who led us, Lord King. It was Bane who held the line. What does he receive?'
'Anything he desires of me,' replied the king. Another cheer went up. Connavar walked back through the crowd, and into the house. Bane followed him, pushing shut the door.
'A fine speech,' he said. 'It even sounded sincere. I don't doubt they'll now ride into hell for you. Now what was the second reason you spoke of?'
'You and I must ride to the Wishing Tree woods. Tonight. Alone.'
Bane laughed. 'And why would I do this?'
'Vorna came to me. She said it was of the utmost importance. Believe me, Bane, I do not want to ride with you. I have never wanted any part of you to touch my life. But Vorna is my friend, and I owe her more than I can ever repay. If you do not wish to ride with me I will go alone.'
Bane was silent for a moment. 'And Vorna asked for me to ride with you?'
'Aye, she did.'
'Then I will go.' He looked into the king's face. 'You know, for a long time I wanted to speak with you, to win
