but only because we must. Torgan was wrong, but he believed himself right and acted with the best interests of his clan at heart. Now he suffers shame. I shall end that.'
As they approached the end of the tree line Sigarni turned towards Fell and curled her arms around his neck. 'I hated you when you left me, and when I heard about the death of your wife I was glad.
It shames me to admit, and I feel sorrow now.'
Dipping his head he kissed her tenderly. 'This is all I ever wanted, Sigarni. I know that now."
'Leave me here, Fell. I will see you later - at the meeting hall. There I will announce our battle plan.'
'And after that?'
'We will go home. Together.'
Sigarni walked down the winding lane to the home of Fyon Sharp-axe. Loran, Torgan, and the huge warrior Mereth were sitting in the sunshine with the Hunt Lord. All rose as Sigarni approached.
'You are welcome, lady,' said Fyon, with a short bow.
Loran fetched a chair for her, and they sat. Torgan remained standing, then turned towards the house. 'Wait,' said Sigarni. 'I would value your counsel.'
'Do you wish to shame me again?' he asked, standing tall, his eyes angry.
'No. I want you to be at the meeting tonight. Tomorrow you will command the Farlain wing, under Fell's leadership.'
Torgan stood stock-still, and she could see the anger replaced by wariness. 'Why are you doing this?' he asked.
'I need strong men in positions of authority. You may decline if you choose.'
'No! I accept.'
'Good. The meeting begins at dusk. Is Layelia in the house?'
'Yes,' said Torgan, still stunned. 'Shall I fetch her?'
'No. I will find her.' Sigarni rose and left the men to their conversation. As she passed Torgan he called out to her.
'Wait!' Dropping to one knee, he bowed his head. 'My sword and my life,' he said.
*
It was an hour before dusk as Sigarni set out from the Pallides village. The afternoon was clear and bright, the sun dappling the new leaves on the trees. She felt belter than she had in days, her mind cleansed of doubt. Whatever the outcome now, she felt that her plan was the best chance for Highland success.
Breaking into a run, she raced up the track, her body revelling in the exertion. As she ran she noticed a mist spreading out from the undergrowth. At first she ignored it, but it thickened suddenly, swirling around her. Sigarni slowed. The trees were indistinct now, mere faint shadows in the grey. Glancing up she saw that the mist was also above her, blocking the sun.
Unafraid, yet with growing concern, she walked on, heading upward. The trail was no longer beneath her feet, but if she continued climbing she would arrive at the encampment. A line of bushes appeared directly before her and she tried to skirt them, moving to the left. The undergrowth was thicker here, the ground flat.
Her irritation grew, but she pushed on.
After a while she came to a gap in the mist, a small hollow inside a ring of oak trees. The mist clung to the outer ring, and rose up over the dip to form a grey dome. There was a man sitting on the grass at the centre of the hollow, portly and friendly of face. Looking up, he smiled broadly.
'Welcome, Sigarni. At last we meet in perfect circumstances.'
'I saw you die at the Falls, ripped to pieces,' she said, her hand closing around the hilt of her dagger.
'Happily that was an acolyte of mine. I say happily, though I miss him dreadfully. Happily for me, I should have said.'
'You will not find today so happy,' she told him, drawing the blade and advancing towards him. Her legs felt suddenly heavy, as if she was wading through knee-deep mud. The knife was a terrible weight in her hand ... it dropped slowly towards her side, then tumbled from her trembling fingers.
'You are quite correct,' he said, 'I do not find this a happy experience. You have done well among your barbarian friends and, were you to live, I believe you could cause the Outlanders considerable embarrassment. Sadly you must die - would that it were different.' Pushing himself to his feet, he drew a slender curved blade and advanced towards her. Sigarni fought to move, but could not. The knife came up and he took the neck of her tunic between the pudgy fingers of his left hand and cut away the cloth, exposing her breasts. 'I apologize for this apparently unseemly behaviour,' he said amiably. 'I have no intention of soiling your virtue. It is just that I need to make the correct incision for the removal of your heart.'
'Why are you doing this?' she asked him. 'What have I ever done to you?'
'As I recall, my dear, you used to hunt hares for sport. What had they ever done to you? We are not dealing here in petty squabbles or feuds. I am a sorcerer and a student of the universe. It is well known among my peers that certain sacrifices are considerably more powerful than others. A man, for example, will provide more power than ... a hare. But the blood royal! Ah now, that is a priceless commodity.' Taking a small chunk of charcoal from his pocket, he drew a line between her breasts and along the rib line on her left side.
'Ironhand!' she cried.
'Ah,' he said, stepping back, 'so he was -the mysterious force. Fascinating! Sadly, however, my dear, I have established a mystic wall around this hollow. No spirit can enter here, so save your breath. Your friend will not hear you either, for the mist dampens all sound. Now what I am about to do is remove your heart. There will be no pain. I am not a savage, and your death will be swift.'
'Give me until tomorrow,' she begged him. 'Let me save my people first!'
He chuckled. 'And you, of course, will give me your word to return?'
'Yes, I will. I swear it.'
'Ah, but you know what you hunters say - a hare in the bag is worth ten in the burrow. Let us merely hope that your officers will perform ably without you. Now, do you have a God you wish to make a final prayer to?'
'Yes,' she said, silently praying for the return of Taliesen.
'Then make it brief, my dear, for I wish to return to Leofric's tent. He has a fine stock of wine which I am looking forward to savouring. This country air does not suit me. I was born to exist within well-stocked cities. Let me know when you are finished, Sigarni. And do not waste your time seeking to contact Taliesen. He has gone back to his own time and is too far away to be of assistance - even could he hear your thoughts, which he cannot. I am afraid, dear lady, you are all alone. There are no creatures of myth or legend to help you now.'
'Don't be too sure,' she said, with a smile.
'Oh, I am sure,' he said. The knife rose andjakuta Khan leaned forward, then arched back with a cry. He staggered several paces, his hand scrabbling at his back, where a bone-handled knife jutted from his kidneys. Sigarni felt the spell holding her dissipate and fall away. She lunged for her dagger and sprang at the sorcerer, ramming her blade into his fat belly and ripping it up towards his lungs. His scream was high-pitched and pain-filled as he sank to the ground. 'Oh, you have wounded me!' he cried.
Ballistar ran forward to stand beside Sigarni and Jakuta Khan looked up at him, his eyes already misting in death. 'A dwarf,' he whispered, surprised. 'I have been killed by a dwarf!'
He turned his dying eyes upon Sigarni. 'It is ... not over. I sent a ... demon. He is lost somewhere in time. But one day .. . when you look into his eyes .. . remember me!' And he slumped face down on the grass.
'Your arrival was most timely,' she said, kneeling beside the dwarf and kissing his bearded cheek.
'Gwalchmai appeared to me. Told me to be here. I was ready to kill myself, but he said I would be needed, that I could help the clans.'
'Oh, Balli, if you had died my heart would have been broken. Come, let us go to the meeting!'