your respect. And when that proved impossible I wanted to kill you. Not any more, Connavar. To me you are just another selfish and arrogant man heading for the grave. You will get there soon enough without my help.'
'Are you ready to ride?' asked the king.
'I am ready,' said Bane.
Vorna made her way slowly up the hill towards the Wishing Tree woods. It was an hour before dawn, and the gnarled oaks seemed sinister and threatening in the moonlight. Humans had long avoided the woods, for this was the realm of the Seidh, and the perils within were well known to the Keltoi.
In the past brave heroes had ventured into this dark place. Most had never returned, and one who did was aged beyond all reason. He had entered as a young man, proud, tall and strong. The following day he had returned as a mewling old man, toothless and tottering, his brain – like his strength – all but disappeared.
Vorna paused before the tree line, and sat down on a flat stone. The wind was chill here, and she wrapped her thick black shawl around her shoulders, lifting the rim over her head. Only one other Rigante, to her knowledge, had walked these woods unscathed – the child Connavar. Vorna sighed. What did the Morrigu want of her now? she wondered. And why did she require both Connavar and Bane?
Closing her eyes Vorna reached out with her mind, calling upon the Seidh goddess. There was no response. She tried to contact the Thagda, the Old Man of the Forest, the Tree Man who had aided Connavar in distant days past. Nothing.
Vorna shivered. The wind was bitter, and she yearned to walk into the wood, to sit with her back to a huge oak and block the cold ferocity of this icy breeze. With a single word of command she could have a fire burning, but the wind would blow it away in an instant, she knew.
Slowly and coldly time drifted by. At last she heard the sound of horses pounding on the hillside. Vorna stood and saw the two men riding towards her. This close to Wishing Tree her powers were heightened, and she felt the tension radiating from them, and knew that their ride had been a silent one. Sadness touched Vorna. Two good men, kind and brave, held apart by guilt and sorrow, grief and rage.
Connavar drew to a halt before her and stepped down from the saddle. 'Well, we are here, Vorna,' he said. 'What is it you need of us?'
Bane leapt lightly to the ground, moved in close and embraced the witch. 'You are cold,' he said, rubbing her back. Removing his black sheepskin cloak he draped it over her shoulders. Vorna shivered with pleasure at the weight and warmth of it. She turned to Connavar.
'I require nothing of you, Conn, my dear,' she said. 'The call came from the Morrigu. She came to me in a dream. She said she would meet us here, before the dawn.'
'Then where is she?' asked Bane.
'I do not know. I have called to her, but she does not reply.'
'I have no time for these games,' said Connavar. 'There is much to do and time is short. I will wait a little longer, but if she has not come I will leave.'
'She told me to remind you', said Vorna gently, 'that you once asked a gift from her, and that one day she would call upon you to repay it. This is the time!'
Before Conn could reply there came the flapping of wings from the woods. All three looked round, expecting to see the Morrigu's crow come swooping out of the dark. But then silence fell once more.
'There is something wrong here,' whispered Vorna. 'I cannot sense her presence.'
'Obviously something more important came up,' said Bane lightly.
'You may be right,' said Vorna softly, 'but not in the way that you might imagine. The Morrigu may sometimes appear to be capricious, but she does not lie. She told me that it was vital for the future well-being of the Rigante that you both come to her. Something is wrong,' she said again.
She stood in silence. Beyond the woods the distant snow-covered peaks of Caer Druagh began to gleam with the promise of the dawn.
'I am going into the woods,' said Vorna suddenly. Conn stepped in close, placing his hand on her shoulder.
That you must not do,' he said. 'You will die there, Vorna!'
'I have walked these woods before,' she told him.
'Aye, but never uninvited. You told me that – even for you – entry to these woods without first being called by the Seidh would mean death. Is that not so?'
'Yes, it is so. There are spells which need to be laid aside. Even so, I must make the attempt.'
'I'll come with you,' said Bane. 'I always had a wish to walk these woods.'
'Do not be foolish, boy,' said Connavar angrily. 'This is a magical place, and mortals are not welcome here. You are young and strong. In a few hours you could come stumbling from this place white-haired and stick-thin.'
'You think I should leave my friend to face the dangers alone?' Bane asked him coldly.
'Neither of you should enter,' insisted Conn. 'The Morrigu said she would be here. She is not. The fault is not ours!'
'I must go,' said Vorna. 'I know this. In all my years I have never felt this strongly about anything. I know in my heart that I must walk these woods. And walk them in faith!'
'But I cannot, Vorna,' said Conn sadly. 'For the first time in many years I am afraid. To the south is an enemy who will destroy everything we hold dear. All my life I have been preparing for this moment. Can you understand that? I have put aside love and family, and all pleasures of the flesh. For twenty years I have laboured to give us just one fighting chance of preserving our way of life. If I risk myself now all may be lost!'
'Then wait here, my dear,' said Vorna. 'Bane and I will see what is wrong.' She turned away from him, and, taking Bane's hand, began the walk to the trees. Bane drew one of his swords, but Vorna placed her hand on his wrist. 'Put it away,' she said. 'There is nothing beyond that can be fought with iron.'
He sheathed the blade. As they approached the trees a mist seeped up from the damp earth, forming a wall. Vorna paused, her heart beating fast. 'Hold fast to my hand,' she whispered, then walked into the mist. It was colder than ice and it swirled up over their shoulders, clinging to their faces. Blind now, they moved slowly onwards. Bane stretched his arm out to the front, moving it back and forth. He could not see his fingers. Nor could he see Vorna, though he felt the warm touch of her hand upon his. Inch by inch they eased their way into the wood. Bane's outstretched hand touched the trunk of a tree and they moved around it. Time passed, and neither of them had any sense of direction. Vorna stumbled, for the cold was intense, and she felt her legs growing numb. Bane pulled her upright.
'This', he said, teeth chattering, 'was not the best idea you ever had.'
Vorna put her arm round his waist. 'I fear that is true,' she said. She slumped to the ground. Bane knelt beside her. 'It is not over yet,' whispered Vorna. 'Wait and see.'
'It would be nice to see,' Bane told her.
They huddled together. Vorna took off Bane's heavy sheepskin cloak and curled it around the freezing man's shoulders. She spoke a Word of Power to make a fire. As the flame sprang from her fingers the mist settled around it, extinguishing it even as it was formed.
'I see something,' said Bane. To the right.'
Vorna strained to peer into the mist. Then she saw it, a tiny flicker of light. 'Over here!' she called. The light froze in place momentarily, then slowly moved towards them.
The mist parted before it, and they saw Connavar the King advancing into the wood, his Seidh sword held before him, the blade gleaming brightly. The mist receded from it, the gnarled trunks of the old oaks looming out of the grey.
As the last of the mist disappeared Connavar thrust his sword back into its scabbard. Vorna climbed to her feet and looked into his scarred face. 'I knew that you would come,' she said. 'And do you know why? Because this is the way of life you have been defending, a friend standing by a friend, ready to risk life for the sake of another. This, my dear, is Rigante!'
'Let us find the Old Woman,' he said gruffly. But even as he spoke he put his arm round Vorna and kissed her brow.
The three companions moved further into the wood. On the ground ahead of them lay a dead bird. It was large and black, the skull above its beak bare of feathers. Bane knelt by the bird. 'It is the Morrigu's crow,' he whispered.
'Bring it with us,' said Vorna.
