'As matters stood this morning,' Finnigal told him, 'we had twenty men, and some fifty middle-aged volunteers facing a force above two hundred strong. Now we have one hundred and seventy men. Some of them may be cowards, but they are here, Sergeant.'
'And what if it is all a trick, sir, and they have come to rob and kill?'
'Then I will have made a dreadful mistake. I don't, however, think that will prove to be the truth. I looked into Bane's eyes. I do not think him treacherous.'
'Just because he looks like the king doesn't mean he will act like him,' Prasalis pointed out.
'By the gods, I actually feel like a soldier,' said Gryffe, holding out his arms and admiring the sleeveless mailshirt. He chuckled, then gazed up at the sword rack on the wall. He swung to Nanncumal. 'No battle axes?'
'No axes,' replied Nanncumal. Gryffe lifted down a longsword.
'This will do,' he said.
'It will not do,' said Nanncumal, striding forward and snatching it from Gryffe's hand. This is a rider's weapon. Do you know nothing? It is blade-heavy and meant to be swung downwards from the saddle.' Replacing the sword he pushed past several other outlaws and took down a longsword with a leather-covered grip and curving quillons. It was some eight inches shorter than the first blade. 'Here, numbskull!' he said. 'Feel the balance of this!'
Gryffe took it. 'I have to admit it feels better,' he said.
Nanncumal sighed. 'You expect these men to stand up to Sea Wolves?' he asked Bane. 'The Vars are born ready to fight. They are utterly ferocious. Gods, man, you know this. You've fought them yourself!'
'You are right, Grandfather,' said Bane. 'We'll send a messenger to the Vars asking them to wait for a week while we find better men to oppose them.' He smiled as he said it, and the old man suddenly chuckled. Then his expression hardened.
'I had believed… hoped that this story of the Vars was some nonsense dreamed up by Vorna. But it's not, is it?'
'No, it is not. Would you help my men choose suitable weapons? I need to see Finnigal.'
'Aye, I'll help them. I can't help feeling it will be like measuring a hound for a hat – an interesting but pointless exercise.'
'A plain speaker, isn't he?' said Gryffe.
Bane nodded, and left the forge. Finnigal was standing beneath Eldest Tree. Hundreds of Three Streams dwellers were trudging past him, heading for the west.
'I have scouted some possible areas for ambushing the Vars,' said Bane. 'Perhaps you'd like to ride out and see them for yourself?'
'No need,' said Finnigal. 'I won't be coming with you.'
'How then will I learn of your orders, Captain?' asked Bane, with a smile.
Finnigal laughed, but there was little humour in it. 'You won't. You'll take command. Since your arrival quite a few of the good folk of Three Streams have reconsidered their decision to stay in the settlement. But not the Lady Meria, and some fifty others. My men and I will stay and fight the Vars. With luck we'll reduce their numbers by at least thirty. Also, since some of those staying are young women, the Vars will probably dally here awhile before giving chase.'
'This is daft, man,' said Bane. 'Compel them to leave.'
'How does one compel the king's mother? She is not a soldier, and therefore not under my command. Be serious, Bane. The old lady has made her decision. I can say nothing to sway her.'
Bane stood silently for a moment. 'That is a terrible waste of twenty good men,' he said. 'However, perhaps there is an alternative. It will require you to trust me. Later on – if there is a later on – you can berate me publicly.'
'What is your plan?'
'Best that you do not know. Then there can be no question of collusion. I suggest you take your twenty riders to the top of the hill, to examine the ground beyond for possible fighting sites. In the mean time I will organize the evacuation.'
The soldier removed his iron helm and pushed back his mail hood. 'The Lady Meria', he said, 'has gone to the Roundhouse with the others who are remaining. Some of them have changed their minds, and she is seeking to strengthen their resolve.' He shook his head. 'Ah well, Bane, I think I'll take a ride with my men.'
'First have them bring a wagon to the Roundhouse,' said Bane.
Finnigal walked away and Bane returned to the forge. His men were gathered outside. All of them now wore breastplates and helms and were carrying swords and round wooden bucklers, edged with iron.
He called Wik to him. The outlaw leader had no mailshirt, but was carrying a longbow and a quiver of arrows. 'Take the men to the brow of the hill and wait for me there,' said Bane.
'So far it is the easiest gold I've ever earned,' said Wik.
'The day is not over yet,' Bane reminded him.
Keeping Gryffe, the stocky Valian and the crippled Grale with him Bane returned to Eldest Tree, and waited until two Iron Wolves drove the last wagon to the Roundhouse. The men climbed down and mounted their horses. Finnigal and the seventeen other riders came into view and the troop rode off towards the west.
'Time to pay my compliments to a dear relative,' said Bane. 'Grale, you get ready to drive the wagon. You two come with me.'
Bane walked across to the double doors of the Roundhouse, Gryffe and Valian just behind him. Throwing open the doors the three men strode inside. A large group of people were gathered at the centre fire, and the Lady Meria was talking to them. She fell silent as Bane approached. He looked into her eyes and saw both anger and astonishment.
'Grandmother, how nice it is to meet you at last,' said Bane.
'Get out of my sight!' she shouted. It surprised him that, after the first glance, she did not look at him, but turned her face away.
Bane grinned, then scanned the faces of the crowd. Most of them were elderly, but there were some young women, with small children by their sides. 'The Vars will be here soon,' he told them. The old ones they will kill, and the babes and toddlers. The young women they will not kill. Not immediately. But when they are finished with them they will cut their throats. That is the Vars way with prisoners they cannot take home as prizes.'
There are no Vars,' said an old man. The Lady Meria has assured us-'
'If the Lady Meria is right then you will all spend a few uncomfortable days and nights in open country. If she is wrong you are all dead,' said Bane.
'You will leave now!' commanded Meria. 'You are not welcome here!'
He bowed. 'As you command, lady, so shall it be.' Stepping forward he ducked down, threw his arm round Meria's hips and hoisted her to his shoulder. She shouted and rammed her fists against his lower back. Ignoring her he swung towards the outraged crowd, many of whom had risen to their feet. 'When the Vars come,' he thundered, 'have the courage to kill the children quickly.' He started to walk away.
'Where are you going with her, you brute?' shouted a middle-aged woman.
'To safety, lady. I suggest you all follow us.'
With that he carried the struggling Meria out of the Roundhouse and lowered her to the back of the wagon. 'Understand this,' he told her, his voice cold and hard. 'If you run I shall catch you, and tie you to the wagon. You have lost a little dignity today. You will lose far more if I have to drag you through the mud and tie your hands and feet.'
'You will pay for this with your life!' she hissed.
The crowd began to move out of the Roundhouse and cluster round the wagon. At that moment an armoured rider came galloping from the east. His horse thundered over the second bridge and he brought it to a stop before the Roundhouse. 'Where is Captain Finnigal?' he called.
'He is on the hilltop, scouting the ground,' said Bane. 'Have you sighted the Vars?'
'Aye, two hundred of them. They're right behind me.'
'Bara's teeth, man, how far east did you ride?'