'It does no harm,' said Lennox mildly.
'No, but it irritates me,' replied his brother, scowling. Gaelen would not have guessed them to be brothers. Layne, though tall, was of more slender build, his face fine-boned.
'I can't think why it should, Layne,' said Lennox, smiling. 'You are the thinker in the family."
'Nonsense.' Layne swung to Gwalchmai. 'Why so silent, little one?'
'I was thinking about Agwaine,' answered Gwalchmai. 'I don't like to make anyone angry.'
'He won't be angry with you for long. And besides, I'm proud of you. What do you think, Lennox?'
'I think it took nerve to stay with us. You'll not regret it, Gwal, my lad.'
'Do you think they'll attack Gaelen again?' Gwal asked.
'No,' replied Layne. 'When he has had rime to think on it, Agwaine will realise that Gaelen acted like...' he grinned'... like a Highlander,' he said. 'He will respect that."
Gaelen blushed and said nothing.
'Well,' said Layne. 'I think it's time we told Gaelen about the Hunt.'
Caswallon stood nervously outside the door biting his lip, a habit he thought he had left behind in childhood. But then standing before the door of Leofas brought back memories, none of them pleasant.
When Caswallon was a child he had stolen a dagger from the home of the Sword Champion, Leofas. His foster-father, Padris, had been furious when Cambil informed him of Caswallon's misbehaviour, and had sent the boy to Leofas to confess.
Caswallon had stood before the door then as now, on edge and fearful. The clansman chuckled. 'You fool,' he told himself. But it didn't help.
Rapping the door with his knuckles, he took a deep breath.
Leofas let him in without a word of greeting and pointed to a chair before the hearth. Removing his cloak, Caswallon sat down. The room was large, strewn with rugs of goatskin and wolf-hide, and on the far wall hung a bearskin, dust-covered and patchy with age.
Caswallon stretched out his legs before the fire. The last time I was here, you thrashed me with your belt,' he remarked.
'I recall that you deserved it,' said Leofas. He was a big man, not tall, but wide in the shoulder with a thick neck and heavy beard streaked with grey. But his blue eyes were keen, the stare forbidding.
'Indeed I did.'
'State your business, Caswallon,' snapped the older man.
Caswallon pushed himself to his feet, a knot of anger deep within him. 'I don't think that I will,' he said softly. 'I am not the child who stole your knife, I am a man. I came here because Maggrig advised it, and it seemed sensible, but I'll not sit here swallowing your discourtesies."
Leofas raised his eyebrows, waiting as Caswallon reached for his cloak.
'Would you like a drink, boy?' he asked.
Caswallon hesitated for a moment, then dropped his cloak across the back of a chair and turned to the older man. 'That would be pleasant,' he said.
Leofas left the room, returning with two jugs of ale. Then he sat opposite Caswallon. 'Now will you state your business?'
'Before I do, let's clear the air. When you were young you raided all over the druin to build your herds. So why are you set against me?'
'That's easy answered, and I like a man who states his grievance swiftly. When I was a lad there was open warfare between the clans.
No man knew what it was like to be rich. Raiding was often the difference between starvation and small comfort. But times changed and clans prospered. I applauded you when you began, I thought you were spirited and cunning. But then you grew rich, and yet the raids continued. And then I knew that the raids were not a means to an end but the end itself.
'Sometimes in life a man must risk death for the sake of his family, but you risk it merely for pleasure. Most men in the mountains value their clan, for it is like a great family and we depend on one another to survive. Children of the mountains are cared for; no one man starves while another gluts himself. But you, Caswallon, you don't care. You avoid responsibility, and your very existence eats away at what makes the clan strong. Children imitate you. They tell tales of your exploits and they want to be like you, for you are exciting, like a clansman out of time. A myth from the past.
'Cuckoo Caswallon they used to call you, because of your amorous exploits. Women yearn for you and I can understand that and don't begrudge it. But when you creep into the bed of another man's wife, and sire him a son, all you have done is destroy that man's life. He cared for his wife deeply, loved her and cherished her. She surrenders all that for a few nights of passion with you. You don't stick by her, so she despairs. And her life is ruined too.
'As for your raids... you encourage other clans to copy you. Last autumn I caught three Pallides poachers making off with my prize bull. I had to mutilate them, it was the law. But why did they do it? Why? Because Caswallon had stolen their bull. Now state your business.'
Caswallon leaned back in his chair, his heart heavy for he could not refute a word of Leofas's damning indictment.
'Not yet, Leofas. First let me say this: Everything you accuse me of is correct and I cannot gainsay it. But I never intended evil. Cuckoo Caswallon? Sometimes a man gives in to selfishness, telling himself there is a nobler reason - he is bringing a little happiness into a dull life. But since I married Maeg I have been faithful, for I learned by my mistakes.
'As for the raids, they too were selfish, but I don't regret them for I enjoyed every moment. If men suffered by imitating me, then it is on their heads, for my risk was as great as theirs. But that too is now a thing of the past.
'I came to you because of the Aenir; that is my business with you. I seek not your friendship nor your approval. I care for neither. The Aenir are killers and they will invade the clans.'
'Cambil is Hunt Lord,' said Leofas guardedly. 'Have you seen him?'
'You know I have not. Nor will I. If I told Cambil that sheep ate grass he would deny it and feed his flock on beef.'
The older man nodded. 'That is true enough. And I agree with you about the Aenir, but Cambil thinks differently. He seeks new trade agreements, and he has invited an Aenir captain to watch the Hunt.'
'He didn't see the sack of Ateris,' said Caswallon.
'No. But you did and it changed you."
'I won't deny that.'
'How is the boy you brought home?'
'He is well. Your lads helped him, I think, though he has not spoken of it.'
'Neither have they, but I heard. They're good boys. Layne would not allow Agwaine to harm him and Lennox stood by him. That made me proud, for it's hard bringing up boys without a mother. And they've turned out well.'
'They are a credit to you.'
'As is Gaelen to you,' said Leofas, 'for he took them all on.'
'He is a credit to himself. Will you argue against Cambil on the Council?'
'On the question of the Aenir, I will.'
'Then I'll take up no more of your time.'
'Man, you haven't finished your ale. Sit and be comfortable for a while. I don't get many visitors."
For an hour or more the men sat, drinking ale and swapping stories. It came to Caswallon that the older man was lonely; his wife had died six years before and he had never taken another. On the death of Padris three years ago Leofas had refused to stand for Hunt Lord, claiming it was a young man's duty. But he remained on the Hunt Council, and his words were heeded.
'How long do you think we have - before they invade?' asked Leofas suddenly, his eyes clear despite the jugs of ale.
Caswallon fought to clear his mind. 'I'd say a year, maybe two. But I could be wrong.'
'I don't think so. They're still fighting in the lowlands. Several cities are holding out.'
'We need a plan of our own,' said Caswallon. 'The valley is indefensible.'
'Seek out Taliesen,' Leofas advised. 'I know these druids raise the hairs on a man's neck, but he is wise, and he knows much about events outside Druin.'
For two months Caswallon took Gaelen with him on every hunt, teaching him more of the land and the creatures of the land. He taught him to fight hand-to-hand, and to wrestle and to box, to roll with the punches, and to counter swiftly. The lessons were sometimes painful, and Gaelen was quick to anger. Caswallon taught him to hold his fury and use it coolly.
'Anger can strengthen a man or destroy him,' he told the youth as they sat on the hillside above the house. 'When you fight, you stay cool. Think with your hands. When you strike a blow it should surprise you as well as your opponent. Now pad your hands and we will see what you have understood.' Warily the two circled one another. Caswallon stabbed a straight left to Gaelen's face. Gaelen blocked it, hurling a right. Caswallon leaned out of reach, the punch whistling past his chin. He countered with a swift left that glanced from the boy's jaw. Off-balance, Gaelen hit the ground hard, rolled and rose to his feet with eyes blazing. Caswallon stepped in to meet him, throwing a right cross. It never landed, for Gaelen ducked inside the punch and caught the taller man with an uppercut that sent him reeling in the grass.
'Good. That was good,' said Caswallon, rubbing his jaw. 'You are beginning to move well. A little too well.' Reaching up, he took Gaelen's hand and the younger man pulled him to his feet. 'Let's sit for a while,' he said. 'My head is still spinning, I think you've shaken all my teeth.'
'I'm sorry."
Caswallon laughed. 'Don't be. You were angry, but you kept it under control and used the power of your anger in your punch. That was excellent.' The two sat together beneath the shade of an elm.
'There is something I have been meaning to ask you,' said Gaelen, 'about the bush you hid me in when the Aenir were close.'
'It was a good hiding-place.'
'But it wasn't,' insisted Gaelen. 'It was out in the open, and had they looked down they would surely have seen me.'
'That's why it was good. When they attacked their blood was up. They were moving fast, thinking fast, seeing fast. You understand? They didn't examine the clearing, they scanned it swiftly, making judgements at speed. The bush was small and, as you say, in plain sight. It offered little cover and was the last place, so they believed, that anyone would choose as a hiding place. Therefore they ignored it. Similarly that made it the best place to hide in.'
'I see that,' said Gaelen, 'but what if they had stopped to examine the clearing?'
'Then you would probably have been slain,' said Caswallon. 'It could have happened—but the odds were vastly against it. Most men react to situations of violence - or threatened violence - by animal instinct. Understanding that instinct allows an intelligent man to win nine times out of ten.'
Gaelen grinned. 'I do understand,' he said. 'That's why when you raided the Pallides you chose to hide in the village itself. You knew they would expect you to flee their lands at speed, and so they raced from their village to catch you.'
'Ah, you've been listening to the tales of my wicked youth. I hope you learn from them.'
'I am learning,' agreed Gaelen. 'But why did you choose the house of Intosh to hide in? He is the Sword Champion of the Pallides, and everyone says he is a fearsome opponent."
'He is also a widower with no children. No one would be in the house.'
'So you had it planned even before you did it. You must have scouted the village first.'
'Always have a plan, Gaelen, Always.
Later, as they sat on the hillside above Caswallon's house, awaiting the call to the midday meal, Caswallon asked the boy how he was settling in with the other lads in the small village.
'Very well,' Gaelen told him guardedly.
'No problems?"
'None that I can't handle."
'Of that I have no doubt. How do they compare with the boys of Ateris?'
Gaelen smiled. 'In the city I used to watch them play games: Hunt-seek, Spider's folly, Shadowman. Here they play nothing. They are so serious. I like that . .. but I always wanted to join in back in Ateris.'
Caswallon nodded. 'You joined us a little late for children's games, Gaelen. Here in the mountains a boy becomes a man at sixteen, free to wed and make his own life. It is not easy. Two in five babes die before their first birthday, and few are the men who reach fifty years of age. Childhood passes more swiftly here. Have you teamed yet for the Hunt next week?'
'Yes, I travel with Gwalchmai, Lennox and Layne.'
'Fine boys,' said Caswallon, 'although Gwalchmai is a little timid, I think. Are you content with the teaming?'
'Yes. We are meeting today to plan the Run."
'What problems will you face?'
'Lennox is strong, but no runner. We may not beat Agwaine's team to the first tree.'
'Speed is not everything," said Caswallon.
'I know.'
'Which of you will lead?'
'We're deciding that this afternoon - but I think it will be Layne.'
'Logical. Layne is a bright fellow.'
'Not as bright as Agwaine,' said Gaelen.