‘Why? What peril can come from old bones?’
He shrugged and spread his hands. ‘I cannot say. I do not know. But Horga claimed that if ever they were to be gathered to one place then a great evil would live again. The families were true to the promise of their ancestors. We lived our lives chained to the past, the Ringwearers… until ten years ago.’ He pointed to the furthest figure, who still had not moved. ‘Lorin spoke of the skull, and the word reached Azrek. You know of him, I believe?’
‘Yes.’
‘He sent men to the forest, hunters, killers. Lorin fought them off, slaying four of them, but they returned with Cataplas and Lorin died. But first they tortured him until finally he broke and talked of the Grey Keep.
‘Cataplas journeyed there with his killers. Kircaldy was there. He fought also, then barricaded himself upon the tower. Cataplas sent a spell of fire that burned the flesh from his bones, but Cataplas did not find the skull — not until you came and unwittingly made him a gift of it.
‘Now there is only one: the skull of Golgoleth, the greatest of the Vampyre Kings. Cataplas seeks it. Azrek desires it. It must be denied to them.’
‘Do they know where to find it?’
‘I think that they do.’
‘How?’
‘The Kings were joined by sorcery, and there are lines of power between the skulls. One was not enough to locate the others, but with two a skilled sorcerer will be drawn to the third.’
‘What would you have me do?’
‘Kircaldy and Lorin both died before they sired sons. Lorin’s ring was taken by Cataplas, but you have the ring of Kircaldy. Will you take on the responsibility of the promise? Will you become a Ringwearer?’
There was no need for me to consider my words. ‘I will,’ I said.
‘You may die for that promise, Owen Odell.’
‘All men die, Gareth.’
‘Then journey to the Troll Reaches. Come as quickly as you can. I will find you — if I still live.’I noticed then that the spirit of Kircaldy was no longer present. ‘Where has he gone?’ I asked.
‘To a place of rest.’
‘And what of Lorin? He remains.’
‘Cataplas has his ring. Until another guardian is found, Lorin will know no peace.’
When I awoke the cave was dark, the fire merely embers casting soft shadows on the far wall. I rose silently and walked to the entrance. A cold wind was blowing across the mountainside, but I found Mace sitting with his back to a boulder, a cloak wrapped around his shoulders.
‘You look lost in thought,’ I said, seating myself beside him.
‘There is much to think about. Do you think Rabain was like me?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘An outlaw, a mercenary. Was he trapped into becoming the hero, or was he truly your Morningstar?’
‘I don’t know, Jarek. Once I would have said he was everything the stories claim. But now I have seen the birth of a legend.’
‘And you are disappointed.’
‘Not exactly,’ I told him. ‘You did stand upon the road alone and defy the Angostins, and you did fight your way clear on the day of the Burning. Because of that Megan was freed. You faced the Shadows of Satan and you rescued Piercollo. You have courage. No man can take that from you.’
‘Perhaps,’ he said, staring away over the mountains.
‘What is troubling you?’
‘Brackban swearing to follow me unto death. I don’t want that sort of devotion; it makes me uneasy.’
‘I now understand the mystery of Cataplas and the Three,’ I said, seeking to change the subject. He was at once interested and I told him of the dream meeting with Gareth and the ghosts.
‘You believe it was a true vision?’
‘I do.’
And you intend to find this Gareth in the Troll Reaches?’
‘I must. I am now a Ringwearer.’.
He chuckled and shook his head.’
‘Oh, Owen, what a wondrous fool you are. What help will you give Gareth? How will you stop Cataplas and his killers? Sing them to death, perhaps?’ He laughed, and I felt foolish.
‘You could come with me,’ I pointed out.
‘Why would I wish to?’
‘You are a hunted man, Jarek Mace. Cataplas will find you one day — and with the third skull perhaps his powers would double. Then where would you be, Lord of the Forest? How will you battle the demons who will stalk you in these dark woods?’
Still good-humoured, he thumped my shoulder. ‘Good, Owen! You do not appeal to my fine nature, nor mention friendship and loyalty. You send your shaft straight to the gold. I like that!’
‘Then you will come with me? Gareth is in peril. He urged me to travel with all speed.’
‘I’ll think on it.’
CHAPTER NINE
Brackban, Jairn and the militia soldiers left soon after dawn, heading south, but Piercollo had developed a fever in the night and Astiana remained behind to care for him. There was no way the giant would be fit to travel for several days and, though Mace wanted to leave him behind, Wulf and I refused. Ilka, though incapable of speech, made it plain she felt the same, sitting beside the wounded man and glaring up at Mace.
Jarek took his bow and quiver and left the cave without a word.
I banked up the fire with the last of the fuel and sat watching him stride out towards the forest.
Astiana moved alongside me. ‘Is he truly the Morningstar?’ she asked.
‘He is,’ I told her.
‘He is a callous man, hard and bitter.’
‘That also,’ I agreed.
She asked how we met, and I told her of the rescue back in Ziraccu, though I left out small details like Mace’s adulterous adventures with the noble lady and his return for a share of the reward. I spoke also of how we saved Megan from the fire, and of the fight with the beasts in the forest.
‘They say he is Rabain come again,’ said Astiana, her gaze locked to mine. ‘Would you agree with such sentiments?’
‘Who am I to agree or disagree? I am but a bard. Who was Rabain? What do we know of him, save that he fought the Vampyre Kings and was made King himself? Mace was talking of him earlier. Was he a wolfshead or a rebel knight? A prince or a peasant?’
‘You are cynical, Owen,’ she said. ‘I thought all bards were romantics, singing of chivalry and honour.’
‘I sing of those things. I dream. But here there is a grim reality. Death is sudden, brutal. Men are cruel, mindlessly vicious. Why did Lykos blind Piercollo? Why did they tie Megan to the Burning Stake? Why do the Angostins glory in war?’ I glanced back to where Wulf was sitting with Ilka beside the fire. ‘The hunchback is my friend, brave and steadfast. Yet when first I saw him he was kneeling over the body of a traveller he had slain; he was cutting the rings from the dead man’s fingers. And Ilka — sweet Ilka — was raped as a child and had her tongue torn from her mouth. Where is chivalry in this? A man who taught me to create illusions of light, sweet and beautiful, now transforms men and animals into demonic creatures filled only with the lust to kill. Where is honour in this?’
‘Honour is here,’ she whispered, placing her hand over my heart. ‘Or do you believe that good can only exist in pure surroundings, untouched by the world’s darkness? What value would there be in that? Virtue is like a ring of gold. It does not matter where you place, it, in a swamp or a cowpat; it will remain gold, untarnished. Lesser metals are corroded, ruined, corrupted. Not gold. The true heart remains true.’
‘Just words,’ I snapped, more brutally than I intended. ‘The evil triumph always, for they are strong and merciless. Good men are hampered, chained by their honour. They cannot compete, for they play by different rules.’