He looked up, saw that Maggie’s uncle was watching him, measuring him with his eyes, and he wore a look of respect. Thomas was an odd one, in Gallen’s book. He’d been around the world, probably been in his share of scrapes. He’d come to lord it over his niece, stop her from marrying in order to line his own pockets, and that showed a bit of larceny in his heart. And he had a commanding way about him. While others here were all floundering about for solutions, Thomas seemed unperturbed, as if he knew how Gallen could get out of this spot, but just wasn’t saying. Gallen decided to ask him bluntly.
“You’ve been around, Thomas. Have you got any ideas?”
“If you let them take you north, you’re a dead man, sure,” Thomas grumbled. He went over to the rocking chair by the fireplace, pulled a pipe from his pocket, and began tamping it full of tobacco. “They don’t like southerners much, and they’re a close-knit lot. Inbred, some of them. You’ve killed their kin, and even if you got off with a whipping, some of them are likely to lie in wait for you and slit your throat on the road home. You need to stay here, fight them on your own ground. Take this thing to trial here. That’s your legal right. And make sure your friends and cousins are all sitting in the jury.”
“That’s correct, a man has a right to be tried in his own town!” Father Brian said.
“Not in his own town, but in the jurisdiction where the crime was committed,” Thomas corrected. “Which is one and the same, in this case. But to tell you straight, I’m worried that these sheriffs will go carting Gallen and Maggie off, in spite of the law. There’s not much here to stop them.”
Father Brian frowned. “Then there’s only one thing to do. I’ll go to Baille Sean and talk to Lord Sheriff Carnaghan. I’ll raise an army of sheriffs and deputies to make sure that Gallen gets an open trial here in town. That way, these damned northerners won’t be able to torment him in secret, and they won’t table a jury stacked with his enemies.”
Thomas nodded, and Father Brian got up, went outside into the darkness, shoving past the sheriffs and grumbling, “Out of my way! Get out-or I’ll excommunicate the lot of you!” Outside the door, the sky had lightened a crack. Dawn was approaching.
Moments later, Gallen heard a horse race by on the road south, and Gallen was surprised that Father Brian would ride with such daring in so little light.
Silently, Gallen prayed that Father Brian’s horse would race surefooted over the mountains. Orick nuzzled up to Gallen, putting his face against Gallen’s ribs, and Gallen stroked his nose absently. He could see no easy way out of this.
His mother got up from the couch. “It’s going to be a long day, what with everyone running off to see the Lord Sheriff. At least we don’t have to wait on an empty stomach.”
“Aye, what a day,” Thomas said. “Between the trial and my oddities, the inn will be bustling. We might as well put a tent over the whole town. Why, all we lack for a circus is a few dancing horses and a singing dog-the clowns and ringmasters are already in attendance.”
In the kitchen, Gallen’s mother began mixing dough and banging pots. Orick lay at Gallen’s feet. The bloody wound to his shoulder was all scabbed over, and the poor bear lay for a bit, licking himself.
When Thomas was sure that Gallen’s mother was occupied, Thomas leaned forward. “Lad,” he said, “I’m afraid that this trial might go bad for you. It’s said that the angels have come to your aid before. Is there a chance that they’ll come now?”
“I’m afraid not,” Gallen said.
Thomas licked his lips. “Then they’re gone now, to whatever world they hail from?”
Thomas looked into Gallen’s eyes quizzically, and Gallen wondered how much he knew-or had guessed. “Yes, they’re gone, and I don’t think they’ll be back.”
Thomas leaned forward conspiratorially, and whispered, “You’ve talked to an angel? Wha-what did the creature say, man?”
Gallen found his heart hammering. He was tom between the desire to speak the truth, and the desire to keep his secrets. “There are many worlds beyond Geata na Chruinne,” Gallen said, “and people there are not so different than they are here. Some of them are far more beautiful than anything you dream. Some of them are wise. Some of them live forever. In many ways, life is easier there than it is here, but there are also greater perils.”
Thomas sat back, stunned, his face a mask of hope and confusion. “Well, I’ll be … I wonder … I wish I could see … I wish I could have talked to an angel.”
Gallen could see Thomas’s secret desire written plain on his face. The man wanted to see what lay beyond Geata na Chruinne, and Gallen had promised Maggie that he’d talk to Thomas about a quick date for the wedding. He wondered if he told Thomas the truth, if Thomas could understand how important it was for Maggie to marry soon.
“Maggie and I have both been beyond the gate with the folk that you call angels,” Gallen said. “And now that Maggie’s been there, she won’t rest easy until she washes the dust of this world from off her feet once and for all.”
Orick had quit licking his wounds, and now he looked up. “Well, if you’re going to say that much, you might as well tell him the whole truth, Gallen.” Orick turned to Thomas. “Gallen and Maggie are people of some import out there now. They have to return. The fate of ten thousand worlds rests on their shoulders.”
Thomas sat back, as if expecting Gallen to sprout horns from his head or wings from his back. It was an utterly fantastic tale that Gallen was telling, yet the dead “demon” and “angel” in Thomas’s shed gave some proof of it. Thomas must have believed him, for the old minstrel began to weep. “People there can live forever?” Thomas asked. “And all you have to do is walk through Geata na Chruinne?”
“You need a key to the gate,” Orick said.
“And have you got one?”
Gallen nodded.
“Can I see it?” Thomas begged, making little grasping motions with one hand.
Gallen checked to make certain that his mother wasn’t watching, then he went to his room, came back with the key-a glowing crystal globe with golden wiring inside.
Thomas stared in awe, held it in both hands. “This is not of this world, that’s sure,” Thomas said. “But I don’t know if it’s a thing of God, or of the devil.”
“Neither,” Gallen said. “It was made by the Tharrin, a race of good people who rule the heavens.”
Thomas licked his lips, handed the key back to Gallen, who scooted it into his pocket. Thomas said, “So why haven’t you gone already? Is it those green-skinned devils?”
“Something like that,” Gallen said. “Maggie and I have enemies who will begin hunting us soon, and this is a good place to hide. Maggie wants to get married here, before we leave. And to tell the truth, I wanted to say goodbye to my friends.”
“So that’s why Maggie is so hot to marry you now,” Thomas said. “She doesn’t care about your political future, because your future lies elsewhere.”
Gallen nodded.
Thomas folded his hands, stared at them thoughtfully for a long time. “And if you don’t like it out there, you can always come back here, I suppose?”
“Aye,” Gallen said. “We could.”
Thomas leaned back in his chair, studied Gallen a moment, his gray eyes measuring the boy. His beard and moustache were impeccably trimmed. His body was leathery, but he had a gut growing on him. He was at that stage of life where he was still tough, but somewhat worn. And in his bright purple pants and a peach-colored shirt, he looked as if he should be out juggling or singing in the streets. “I want to go with you,” Thomas admitted at last.
“Are you sure?” Gallen asked. “It’s a big place, stranger than I have time to tell.”
“Hmmm …” Thomas eyed the boy thoughtfully, almost grudgingly. “I’ve never put much faith in God and heaven, or any rewards in the afterlife. But dammit, boy, I want to live forever!”
“And if I were to take you with me,” Gallen mused, “what could you pay?” He said it as a joke, but Thomas didn’t see it as one.