He was sitting on a high seat in the centre of the square, flanked by six warriors carrying ritual ebony staffs, adorned with silver. Sitting at his feet was a white-bearded old man dressed in a long robe of faded grey.
'What do you seek here, Woman of Loda?' asked Torgan, as Sigarni dismounted. He did not rise from his seat, and his words were spoken scornfully.
'Is this the Farlain Gifted One?' countered Sigarni, pointing at the old man.
'It is. What concern is that of yours?'
Sigarni turned away from him, scanning the faces in the crowd. There was hostility there. 'Have his dreams been made known to the people of the Farlain?' she asked, raising her voice so that the crowd could hear her.
Torgan rose. 'Aye, they have. He told us of a troublesome woman who would bring death and destruction upon the clans: a Loda woman of low morals who by murder would enrage the Outlanders.
And his dreams were true!'
Despite her anger Sigarni stayed calm. 'He is no Gifted One,' she said. 'He is a fraud and a liar.
And I will speak no more of him. Let the Farlain know this: An Outland force raided Cilfallen. We destroyed them. More will come, and they will attack and butcher any in their path, whether they be Loda, Farlain, Pallides or Wingoras. All true Gifted Ones know this. And you will see the truth of my words. I am Sigarni. I am of the Blood of Kings. And I do not lie.'
Torgan laughed. 'Aye, we know who you are, Sigarni. Word of your talent has reached us even here.
You will leave the lands of the Farlain, and think yourself fortunate that we do not bind you and deliver you to the Outlanders for a just execution. Go back to your pitiful band and tell the idiots who follow you that the Farlain are not to be fooled.'
'How can I tell them that,' responded Sigarni, 'when it is obvious that they have been fooled already?' Spinning on her heel she strode to her stallion and stepped into the saddle. 'There are other Gifted Ones,' she told the crowd, 'in other clans. Be wise and seek their guidance. For the days of blood are here and if we do not join together we will be slaughtered separately. A leader has been prophesied - one who will unite the clans against the enemy. I am that leader.'
'No whore will ever lead the Farlain,' shouted the Hunt Lord. 'Begone before we stone you!'
Sigarni touched heels to her stallion and rode from the town.
Now, as she sat in the icy cold beneath a darkening sky, her anger remained, hot and compelling.
Sigarni had been better received among the Pallides, but even here they had promised no warriors to serve under her leadership. Arriving in the Lam Valley, she had been met outside the township by the blond warrior Loran, who had bowed as she dismounted.
'Well met, lady, and welcome,' he said. 'It is good to see you again.' The memory of their meeting by Ironside's Falls seemed as distant as a dream of another life and she found herself gazing at the handsome Pallides as if he was a stranger. 'Your armour fits you well,' he said. 'I am sorry that the shelters we built for the Loda people are so ... so humble. But we did not have much time.'
'They will suffice,' she said. From the tree line a huge man ambled into view and waved at Loran.
Sigarni watched his approach with undisguised amazement. A little over six feet tall, his shoulders seemed impossibly wide, and his neck was easily as big as her thigh. His head was large, and though beardless he had grown his sideburns long and they merged with his hair line to give him a leonine appearance.
'By God!' she whispered. 'Is it real?'
Loran chuckled. 'it is my cousin Mereth. And he's real enough.'
'Is this her?' said Mereth, squinting at Sigarni. His voice was a low rumble like distant thunder.
'Aye, Mereth, this is Sigarni.' He moved his head close to her face. 'Handsome woman,' he said amiably.
'Mereth's vision is weak,' explained Loran. 'It is his only weakness. He's the strongest man I've ever seen.'
'The strongest that ever was,' said Mereth proudly. 'I broke Lennox's record for the caber - and they said that couldn't be done. They said he was a giant. I broke it. Are you the Queen now?'
'This is not the time, Mereth,' said Loran softly, laying his hand on the giant's shoulder.
'I heard the Loda Gifted One named her Queen. I was only asking.'
'The Loda Gifted One is a drunkard. Now look after the lady's horse and I will see you at Fyon's house when you have stabled the mount.'
Mereth smiled. T can fight too,' he told Sigarni. T fear nothing.'
Loran and Sigarni walked on into the town. 'Poor vision is not his only weakness,' she said, when Mereth was out of earshot.
'Do not misjudge him, Sigarni. I admit he is not the most intelligent of men, but he is no simpleton. It just takes him a long time to work through a problem.'
Fyon Sharp-axe entertained her at his home in the Larn Valley. It was a fine old house, built of stone with a roof of carefully carved slate. Fyon, Loran and Mereth sat around the long table and listened intently as Sigarni told them of the events that had led to the battle of Cilfallen. The Hunt Lord, a squat powerfully built warrior with a square-cut black beard, forked with silver, had waited courteously until she finished her tale. As she concluded he raised a wine cup and toasted her. 'You did well, Sigarni,' he said. 'I applaud you for the way you saved the people of your clan. But I do not yet know if you are the leader who was prophesied. Our Gifted Ones say one is coming who will lead us, but they cannot name him. I know we have no choice now, save to battle for our lives. I will not relinquish this battle to you, for despite your victory at Cilfallen you are untried. And you are a woman. It is not a woman's place to lead men into battle. I do not say this slightingly, Sigarni, for I admire your courage. It is merely common sense. Men are ultimately dispensable. If, in a war, all but ten of a clan's warriors are killed, but the women remain, the clan would survive. But if only ten of the clan women were left it would die. Men are made for hunting and battle, women for gathering and childbirth. This is the way of the world. I cannot see Pallides warriors fighting for a woman - even one as spirited as you.'
Sigarni nodded. 'I understand your fears, Fyon,' she said. 'But I would like to hear the thoughts of Loran.'
The blond warrior leaned back in his chair. He glanced at Sigarni. 'I have waited for a leader - as have we all. And I was surprised when I heard that Gwalchmai had named you. We all here know that you are of the blood of Gandarin, and that he was directly descended from Ironhand. And a boy child of yours would have first claim to the throne. Yet there is no boy child, and never have the clans been led by a woman.'
'What of the Witch Queen?' countered Sigarni.
'Aye, I'll grant that,' admitted Loran, 'but she was from beyond the old Gateways, drawn to our aid by sorcery. And she did not stay to rule, but returned to her own land when the war was won.'
'As I shall,' said Sigarni.
'Be that as it may,' continued Loran, 'I cannot as yet make a judgement. I echo the Hunt Lord's praise for your victory at Cilfallen, and I deplore the treatment of you by the Farlain. Even so, I do not believe we should commit ourselves to you at this time. I ask that you do not judge us too harshly.'
Sigarni rose. 'I do not judge you harshly, Loran. You came to Tovi and warned him of invasion.
Because of your arguments he sent enough supplies back into Pallides lands to ensure survival for the people of Loda during the winter. You have given us land, built us homes. For this I am grateful. And I understand your concerns. I did not ask for this role, and would be more than happy to surrender it. But I know now that I am the one prophesied. I know it. What I need to know is what can be done to convince the Pallides. What do you require of me?'