friends, but they make even more deadly enemies.
Thankfully he was always more of a friend.'
'What do you mean brought her? She lived with her father and mother until...'
'The night of the slaughter... yes, yes, I know. But they were not her parents. Their child died in her cot. Sigarni was a... changeling.
But that is all beside the point. I take it the invasion is not under way yet? No, of course it isn't. I may be getting old, but I still have a certain Talent when it comes to Gateways. It is now six days from the end of summer, yes?'
'Four days, but you make no sense, old man,' said Fell, adding more wood to the fire. 'What invasion?'
'Four days? Mmmmm. Ah well, close enough,' said The old man, looking down at his gnarled hand and tapping his thumb to each of the fingers, as if working on some simple calculation. He stood and wandered to the doorway, pulling back the flap and looking up at the sky, scanning the bright stars. 'Ah yes,' he said, returning to the fire. 'Four days. Quite right. Now, what was your question? The invasion. Mmmm. Where to begin? The descendants of the Aenir, the conquerers of the Lowlands. What do you call them ... Outlanders? Yes, Outlanders. They will come in the spring with fire and sword. I know you suspect this already, young Fell. Still, that is not important at this moment, for we were speaking of Sigarni. Is she strong? Is she wilful and obstinate? Does she have a piercing stare that strikes fear into the hearts of strong men?'
Fell laughed suddenly. 'Yes, all of those.' His smile faded. 'But speak plainly, old man, for I wish to hear more of this invasion you speak of. Why would they invade?'
'Why indeed? What motivates the minds of evil men? Who can truly know, save another evil man. And, testy though I have been throughout my long life, I have never been evil, and therefore cannot answer your questions with any guarantee of accuracy. I can hazard a guess, however.'
'I never knew a man who could talk so long and say so little,' snapped Fell.
'Youth was always impatient,' Taliesen rebuked him mildly. 'There are two main reasons I can think of. One concerns a prophecy being talked of in the south, about a great leader who will rise among the peoples of the highlands. Prophecies of this nature are not usually welcomed by tyrants.
Secondly, and probably more important, is the fact that the Baron Ranulph Gottasson is ambitious.
He has two enemies, one is the King, and the other is the Earljastey. By raising an army in the Highlands he can make himself a power again in the capital - especially with a few victories to brag of.' - 'How can he achieve victories when there is no army to fight him?'
Taliesen smiled and shook his head. 'For that very reason, how can he not?'
'But there is no leader. God's teeth, this is insane!' 'Wrong again, boy. There is a leader. That is why I am here, sitting in this cold, inhospitable cave, with its dull company and worse porridge. There is a leader?
Fell stared at him. 'Me? You think it is me?
'Do I look like an idiot, boy? No, Fell, you are not the leader. You are brave and intelligent, and you will be loyal.' He chuckled. 'Butyou are not gifted to command armies. You have not the talent, nor the will, nor the blood.'
'Thank you for your honesty,' said Fell, feeling both aggrieved and relieved. 'Then who is it?'
'You will see. In three days, outside the walls of Citadel town a sword will be raised, and the Red will be worn again. Be there, Fell. In three days, at dawn. By the light of the new sun you will see the birth of a legend.'
The old man stood and his joints cracked like dry twigs.
Fell rose also. 'If you are some sort of prophet, then you must know the outcome of the invasion. Will my people survive?'
'Some will, some won't. But it is not quite so simple, young man. There is only ever one past, but myriad futures, though sometimes the past can be another man's future. Now there is a riddle to spin your head like a top, eh?' The
Thankfully he was always more of a friend.'
'What do you mean brought her? She lived with her father and mother until...'
'The night of the slaughter... yes, yes, I know. But they were not her parents. Their child died in her cot. Sigarni was a... changeling.
But that is all beside the point. I take it the invasion is not under way yet? No, of course it isn't. I may be getting old, but I still have a certain Talent when it comes to Gateways. It is now six days from the end of summer, yes?'
'Four days, but you make no sense, old man,' said Fell, adding more wood to the fire. 'What invasion?'
'Four days? Mmmmm. Ah well, close enough,' said The old man, looking down at his gnarled hand and tapping his thumb to each of the fingers, as if working on some simple calculation. He stood and wandered to the doorway, pulling back the flap and looking up at the sky, scanning the bright stars. 'Ah yes,' he said, returning to the fire. 'Four days. Quite right. Now, what was your question? The invasion. Mmmm. Where to begin? The descendants of the Aenir, the conquerers of the Lowlands. What do you call them ... Outlanders? Yes, Outlanders. They will come in the spring with fire and sword. I know you suspect this already, young Fell. Still, that is not important at this moment, for we were speaking of Sigarni. Is she strong? Is she wilful and obstinate? Does she have a piercing stare that strikes fear into the hearts of strong men?'
Fell laughed suddenly. 'Yes, all of those.' His smile faded. 'But speak plainly, old man, for I wish to hear more of this invasion you speak of. Why would they invade?'
'Why indeed? What motivates the minds of evil men? Who can truly know, save another evil man. And, testy though I have been throughout my long life, I have never been evil, and therefore cannot answer your questions with any guarantee of accuracy. I can hazard a guess, however.'
'I never knew a man who could talk so long and say so little,' snapped Fell.
'Youth was always impatient,' Taliesen rebuked him mildly. 'There are two main reasons I can think of. One concerns a prophecy being talked of in the south, about a great leader who will rise among the peoples of the highlands. Prophecies of this nature are not usually welcomed by tyrants.
Secondly, and probably more important, is the fact that the Baron Ranulph Gottasson is ambitious.
He has two enemies, one is the King, and the other is the Earljastey. By raising an army in the Highlands he can make himself a power again in the capital - especially with a few victories to brag of.' - 'How can he achieve victories when there is no army to fight him?'
Taliesen smiled and shook his head. 'For that very reason, how can he not?'
'But there is no leader. God's teeth, this is insane!' 'Wrong again, boy. There is a leader. That is why I am here, sitting in this cold, inhospitable cave, with its dull company and worse porridge. There is a leader?
Fell stared at him. 'Me? You think it is me?
'Do I look like an idiot, boy? No, Fell, you are not the leader. You are brave and intelligent, and you will be loyal.' He chuckled. 'Butyou are not gifted to command armies. You have not the talent, nor the will, nor the blood.'
'Thank you for your honesty,' said Fell, feeling both aggrieved and relieved. 'Then who is it?'
'You will see. In three days, outside the walls of Citadel town a sword will be raised, and the Red will be worn again. Be there, Fell. In three days, at dawn. By the light of the new sun you will see the birth of a legend.'
The old man stood and his joints cracked like dry twigs.
Fell rose also. 'If you are some sort of prophet, then you must know the outcome of the invasion. Will my people survive?'
'Some will, some won't. But it is not quite so simple, young man. There is only ever one past, but myriad futures, though sometimes the past can be another man's future. Now there is a riddle to spin your head like a top, eh?' The
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