The Hawk Eternal (16 page)

Gaelen ran in to attack, screaming at the top of his voice. The beast's black eyes flickered toward the charging boy and in that moment Lennox struck, stepping forward to thunder the oak club against the creature's head. It staggered, but blocked Lennox's next blow with a raised arm. Gaelen's spear sliced into the flesh above its hip, then broke, pitching the boy to the ground at the monster's feet.

Now only Lennox remained in the fight. The young giant hit once more, but his time the beast was ready - it parried the blow with its paw and a taloned hand gripped the youth's upper arm, smashing the bone and ripping the flesh from the shoulder. Lennox staggered back but did not fall. Transferring the club to his right hand, he waited for the beast's next attack.

An arrow cut deep into the monster's thigh, causing it to bellow in pain and rage. A second glanced from its thick skull. Lennox crashed his club into the creature's mouth, but a back-handed blow hurled him from his feet.

Injured though the beast was, none of the wounds were mortal, and the battle had turned. From his precarious position in the tree, Gwalchmai fired a third shaft which buried itself in the ground by the beast's right foot. Leaning out for the fourth shot, the young archer toppled from the branch, landing on his back.

Running behind the beast, Gaelen grabbed Layne's spear and plucked it from the creature's back. As it turned he stabbed at its face, the point slashing a jagged line up and into the sensitive nostrils. To Gaelen's right Layne gathered up Lennox's club and tried to help, but the monster turned on him, slashing the boy's chest. The talons snaked out again. Gaelen leaped backwards, tumbling to the earth.

The beast's jaws opened and another terrifying howl pierced the air.

The boys were finished.

'Ho, Hell spawn!' shouted the Queen. The beast swung ponderously, glittering black eyes picking out the tall, armoured figure at the centre of the clearing. 'Now face me!'

She stood with feet apart, her silver sword before her.

The beast reared to its full height - eight feet of black, merciless destruction. Before its power the woman seemed to Gaelen a frail, tiny figure. The monster moved forward slowly - then charged, dropping to all fours. The Queen sidestepped, her silver sword swung arcing down to rebound from the creature's skull, slicing its scalp and sending a blood spray into the air. The beast twisted, launching itself in a mighty spring, but the woman leaped to the right, the sword cutting across the creature's chest to open a shallow wound.

Agwaine crawled to where Gaelen crouched.

'She cannot win,' whispered the Hunt Lord's son.

'Run, boys!' yelled the Queen.

But they did not. Gaelen scooped up the broken spear, while Layne helped Lennox to his feet and gathered once more the club of oak.

The old woman was breathing hard now. Taliesen had stitched her wounds, but her strength was not what it was. Under the breastplate stitches had parted and blood oozed down her belly. Sweat bathed her face and her mouth was set in a grim line.

Once more the beast reared above her. Once more she hammered the sword in its face. The creature shook its head, blood spraying into the air.

The woman knew she could last but a little longer, while the creature was only maddened by the cuts it had received. A plan formed in her mind and weighed down her heart. It had been her hope to return to her realm and lead it out of the darkness of war. Now there would be no going home. No future. No golden days of peace watching the nation prosper.

In that final moment, as the creature prepared to attack once more, it was as if time slowed. Sigarni could smell the forest, the musky brown earth, the freshness of the breeze. Images leapt to her mind and she saw again the handsome forester, Fell, the first great love of her life. He had died in the battle against the Baron, cut down by the last arrow loosed in that fateful battle. Faces from the past glittered in her memory: Ballistar the dwarf, who had sought a new life in a new world; Asmidir, die black battle captain; Obrin, the renegade Outlander; and Redhawk - above them all, Redhawk.

'I will never see you again,' she thought, 'though you promised to be with me at the end. You gave me your word, my love. You promised!'

Talons lashed towards her. Ducking beneath them she leapt back, lifting her sword towards the beast. It sprang forward, but this time the Queen did not side-step. With a savage battle-cry she launched herself into its path, driving the blade deep into die creature's huge chest. The silver steel slid between its ribs, plunging through its lungs and cleaving the heart.

As it screamed in its death throes its great arms encircled the woman. The breastplate buckled under the immense pressure and the Queen's ribs snapped, jagged bone ripping into her. Then the beast released her and toppled to the earth. The woman staggered back, then fell. She struggled to rise, but agony lanced her.

The boys ran to her side, Gaelen kneeling by her and raising her

head to lay it on his lap. Gently he stroked the silver hair from her eyes.

'Give the word to Taliesen," whispered the Queen, blood staining her lips. She coughed weakly and swallowed. 'We did it, lads,' she said. 'You did well, as I knew you would.'

Agwaine knelt on her right, taking her hand.

'You saved us; you killed it,' said Gaelen.

'Listen to me, for I am dying now, but remember my words. I shall return to the Farlain. You will be older then. Men. Warriors. You will have suffered much and I will aid you again.'

Agwaine glanced at Gaelen. 'What does she mean?'

Gaelen shrugged. The sound of running feet echoed in the clearing as Caswallon, Cambil and the clansmen raced into view. Caswallon knelt by Gaelen. 'Are you all right?'

'Yes. She saved us. She slew the beast.'

'Who is she?' asked Caswallon.

The Queen's eyes opened.'Ah, it is you,' she whispered, smiling. 'Now the circle is complete, for you told me you would be with me at my death. How well you look. How young. How handsome! No... silver in your beard."

Caswallon gazed down into the bright blue eyes and saw that the woman was fading fast. Her hand lifted towards him and he took it, holding it firm.

'Did I do well, Caswallon? Tell me truly?'

'You did well,' answered Caswallon. 'You saved the boys.'

'But my kingdom? Was I... truly the Queen you desired me to be?'

'Yes,' answered Caswallon, nonplussed.

She smiled once more, then a tear formed and slowly fell to her pale cheek. 'Poor Caswallon,' she whispered. 'You do not know whose hand you hold, but you will.' Tears filled her eyes. Lifting her hand to his lips, he kissed the fingers. 'I know you are brave beyond words,' he said, 'and I do not doubt you were a Queen beyond compare."

Her eyes closed and a long broken sigh hissed from her throat. Caswallon sat for a moment, still holding onto the hand. Then he laid it gently across the Queen's chest.

Cambil knelt beside him. 'Who was she?" asked the Hunt Lord.

Caswallon stared down at the dead warrior woman. 'Whoever she was, I mourn her passing.'

'She was the Queen Beyond," said Gaelen, 'and she always won.' Then he began to weep.

LENNOX SAT WITH his back against a tree as they stitched his shoulder and strapped his broken arm. His face was grey with pain, but he uttered no groan, merely squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth.

His father Leofas said nothing, but pride shone in his eyes. Layne lay beside his brother, enduring the stitches in his chest in the same stoic fashion. Away from the others sat Badraig, tears flowing and head in hands. His son Draig had been killed the day before.

Even through his own immense relief Cambil felt the other man's sorrow and, leaving his son Agwaine, he walked over to sit beside the hunter. He put his hand on Badraig's shoulder.

'I am sorry, my friend. Truly.'

The man nodded, but neither lifted his head nor answered.

Caswallon stood with the other clansmen looking down on the beast. Even in death it was a terrifying sight, its great jaws drawn back in a last snarl, its fangs, as long as a man's fingers, bared and bloody.

'I have never seen the like,' muttered Caswallon, 'and I pray I never shall again.'

They buried the Queen deep, marking the grave with flat white stones. Cambil promised to have a headstone carved. Then the men split into two groups, Badraig leading the five hunters back to the falls and burying what was left of the bodies; Cambil, Leofas and Caswallon staying with the boys. It was decided they would rest in the clearing until morning and then attempt the long walk back to the village.

The main worry was Lennox, who had lost a great deal of blood. Gwalchmai, though stunned by his fall, was back on his feet and unhurt. He alone of the boys had missed the Queen's last battle.

That night around the camp-fire the boys were unnaturally silent.

Lennox, in great pain, sought refuge in sleep, but the others sat together staring at the flames. Agwaine had lost friends and suffered the terror of being hunted; Layne had seen the leadership of the group taken quietly from him by the former lowlander; and Gaelen had discovered in his heart a strength he had not known existed. Only Gwalchmai was untouched by the drama, but he remained silent, for he sensed his friends' needs.

Caswallon prepared a strong broth for them all. His own thoughts were many. Through his sorrow at the death of the three lads he felt a surging pride at the way the others had tackled the beast, and a sense of joy at the manner in which Gaelen had conducted himself. Thinking back, he did not know if he could have duplicated the feat at Gaelen"s age. But overriding these thoughts he could not help but remember the words of the Queen. At first he had thought the woman delirious, but her eyes had been clear.

Caswallon had always enjoyed an ability to read character truly, and he knew instinctively that the dying warrior was a great woman, a woman of courage, nobility of spirit and great inner strength. That she was a queen was no surprise.

But Queen of where? And how did she know him?

Beyond the Gate. What was beyond the Gate?

Only Oracle knew. And Taliesen.

The night wore on and Caswallon strolled away from the fire, seeking solitude and a place to think. But Cambil joined him and they sat together on a high hillside under the clear sky.

'Badraig is a broken man,' said Cambil softly, gathering his green cloak about his broad shoulders.

'Yes. What can one say?'

'I feel a burden of guilt for it," said Cambil. 'Last night I prayed that Agwaine would survive. I would willingly have exchanged any life for his. When I saw he was alive I didn't care anything for Badraig's loss; it only struck me later.'

That is understandable.'

'Don't patronise me, Caswallon!' snapped the Hunt Lord, eyes blazing.

'I was not trying to. How do you think I felt when I saw Gaelen?'

'It's not the same thing, is it? You may be fond of the boy, but he's not of your blood. You didn't watch him take his first faltering steps, hear his first words, take him on his first hunt.'

'No, that is true,' admitted Caswallon, realising the futility of the arguement.

'Still Gaelen did well,' said Cambil. 'He proved his right to be a clansman.'

'Yes.'

'But he can never be Hunt Lord.'

Caswallon turned then, catching Cambil's eye, but the Hunt Lord looked away, staring into the woods. At once Caswallon understood the man's meaning. Gaelen had planned the battle with the beast, had taken over leadership from Layne. Agwaine had done his bidding. On such talents were future Hunt Lords built. Cambil's dream was that Agwaine would succeed him, but now he was unsure.

'Be content that your son is alive,' said Caswallon. 'The future will look to itself.'

'But you agree it would not be fitting for a lowlander to lead the clan?'

'The Council can decide on the day you step down.'

'So, it is your plan to supplant Agwaine with this boy?' accused Cambil, face reddening.

Caswallon sighed. 'Nothing could have been further from my mind.'

'It was Agwaine who found the sword.'

'Indeed it was.'

A long silence enveloped them, until at last Cambil stood to leave. 'We will never be friends, Caswallon,' he said sadly.

'You see ogres where there are none,' Caswallon told him. 'I have no ambition, cousin - not for myself, nor my sons. They will be what they desire to be, and what they are able to be. I want to see them happy, married well, and content. All else is dross, for we all die and there is no evidence we take anything with us when we go.'

Cambil nodded. 'I wish I could believe you, but I see a different Caswallon. I see a man who could have been Hunt Lord. Children imitate your walk, tales are told about you around the camp-fires. And yet what have you done? You steal other men's cattle. What is it about you, Caswallon?'

'I have no idea. I never listen to the stories.'

Caswallon watched as Cambil walked slowly down the slope towards the fire. Gathering his own cloak about him, he stared at the stars, mind wandering.

After about an hour he felt a cold wind blow against his neck, but the leaves about him did not stir. He turned. Behind him stood Taliesen, wrapped in his cloak of shimmering feathers and holding a staff of oak entwined with mistletoe.

Three boys are dead,' he told the druid, gesturing to a place beside him on the flat boulder. The druid sat, leaning forward on his staff.

'I know. The Queen also.'

'Who was she?'

'Sigarni the Hawk Queen. Did she say anything before she died?"

'She said she would come again, so the boys tell me. And she thought I was someone she once knew.'

'The old man you know as Oracle brought this upon us,' said Taliesen. 'I only hope I can make it right.'

'What are you talking about?'

'Seek Oracle and tell him you have spoken to me. Tell him that it pleases me for you to know his story. But when you have heard it, promise me you will repeat it to no one. Do you agree to this?'

'I do.'

Maeg ran from the house, Kareen beside her, as the men appeared on the far hill. Other women streamed from crofts and homes. Men working in the fields dropped their tools and joined the rush.

Within minutes the hunters and the boys were surrounded. Cambil answered all questions and Caswallon led Gaelen through the throng to where Maeg waited. She moved forward, cupping Gaelen's face with her hands.

'Are you well, my bonny lad?"

'Yes.'

She read the sorrow in his eyes and linked her arm in his for the long walk to the house. He had suffered so much in his life and now it was obvious that he had endured more pain. Her heart ached for him.

At the house the crofter Durk was waiting for Kareen. He asked after Gaelen and then left, taking the girl with him to walk up the hillside.

Gaelen was exhausted and stumbled to his bed while Caswallon

and Maeg sat together by the hearth. The clansman told her of the ordeal in the mountains and how well the boys had handled themselves.

'He is a lad to be proud of, Caswallon,' she said.

He grinned sheepishly. 'I know. I was close to tears as he told me the tale.'

'He'll be a fine man.'

'Sooner than you think,' said Caswallon.

'And how did you fare with Cambil for so many days?'

He shrugged. 'The man fears me, Maeg. He thinks I plan to supplant Agwaine with Gaelen. Is it not madness? His doubts must sit on his shoulders like a mountain.'

'He is a sad, lonely man. I'm glad you harbour no ill-will.'

'How can I hate him? I grew up with him. He was always the same; he believed his father liked me more than him. Always he strived to beat me, and he never did. Had I been wiser, I would have lost at least once.'

'It's not in you to lose,' she said. 'You are a clansman. And a proud man - too proud, I think.'

'Can a man be too proud? It harms no one. I have never insulted another man, nor abused my strength by destroying a weaker opponent. I do not parade my talents, but I am aware of them.'

'Nonsense. You're as vain as a flamingo. I've seen you trimming your beard by the silver mirror and using my brush to comb it flat.'

'Spying on me now, is it?'

'Yes, it is. And why shouldn't I? Am I not your wife?'

He pulled her to his lap and kissed her. 'Indeed, you are the best thing I ever stole from the Pallides. Except for that bull of your father's."

'When I think that Intosh proposed to me,' said Maeg, tugging his beard, 'and instead I ended with you, I wonder if the gods hold a grudge against my family.'

'Intosh? He was my rival? You'd have hated it, Maeg. The man has ticks in his bed. I was scratching for days after I stole his sword.'

'You dog! So that's where they came from."

'Now, now, Maeg my love," he said as she pulled from his grasp, eyes blazing. 'Let's not have a row. The boy needs his sleep, he's been through much.'

'You've not heard the last of this, my fine Farlain,' she said softly.

'And now, while you're quiet for a moment,' he said, pulling her to him once more, 'perhaps you'll welcome me home. It's been a tiring journey.'

'Then you'll be wanting to sleep?'

'Indeed I do. Will you join me?'

'You can bathe first. I'll have no more of your ticks.'

'Is there any heated water?'

'There is not.'

'You'd not expect me to bathe in the yard in the cold?'

'Of course not. You can sleep down here and bathe tomorrow in the warm water.'

'Sleep here?' Their eyes met and there was no give in her.'It's the yard then,' he said.

Later, as Caswallon slept, Maeg heard Gaelen moaning in his sleep in the next room. She rose quickly, wrapping a blanket around her naked body, and made her way to his bedside. It was a familiar nightmare and she knew he was once more running from the Aenir, his legs leaden, his wounds bleeding.

She sat beside him stroking his hair. 'It's all right, Gaelen,' she whispered. 'You're here with Maeg. You're safe. Safe.'

He groaned and rolled to his back. 'Maeg?'

'I'm here.'

'Dreaming,' he whispered and his eyes closed once more.

She remembered the first time Caswallon had brought him home. He had been nervous then, and his eyes had flickered from wall to wall as if the house was a prison. And he had avoided her. When she showed him his room, his delight had stunned her.

This is my room?'

'Yes.'

'My very own? To share with no one?'

'Your very own.'

'It's wonderful. Thank you.'

'You are very welcome.'

'You cannot bewitch me,' he said suddenly.

'I see,' she said, smiling. 'Caswallon has told you about my spells?'

'Yes.'

'But he didn't tell you my powers faded soon after we were wed?'

'No.'

'It happens to women once they've snared their men.'

'I see,'he said.

'So let us be friends. How does that sit with you?'

'I'd like to be friends," he said, grinning. 'I've never had friends.'

'It'll be nice to have someone to talk to,' she told him.

'I don't talk very much,' he said. 'I never had anyone to practise with. I'm not terribly clever at it.'

'It's not clever that counts, Gaelen. Clever comes from the mind, truth from the heart. Now I will begin our friendship by telling you the truth. When Caswallon first rescued you I was worried, for we have a son. But I have thought long about it, and now I am glad. For I like you, and I know you will be happy with us. For our part, we will teach you to be a clansman.'

'I may not be very good at that either,' admitted the boy.

'It's not a matter of being good at it. Merely being is enough. It will not be easy for you, for Caswallon is not a popular man, and some will make it hard - perhaps even unpleasant - for you.'

'Why is he not popular?'