Chapter 5
The Highlands
Year 3 of the reign of King Uthgar
Exile year 6
Llêw corNial tugged at the girth straps of the saddle, then tugged on the straps that tied his saddle bags to the rings on the back of the saddle. Everything was snug and tight. After a moment, he shrugged. He was ready; no sense in putting it off. He looked around from where his fellow travelers were beginning to gather, reins in hand.
Llêw’s father Nial was standing near to him. He led Brightwing to where his father stood. “I’m off, Da.”
“Aye.” Nial said nothing more for a moment. “I’ll not be repeating all that blather your mother said when we left the camp to meet up with the troop. But just you be remembering it—your mother is more than a bit wise, and can see farther into a stone than most folk.”
“Aye, Dad,” Llêw said.
“For my own self, here is my rede: serve the king well; keep your weapons cleaned and oiled; treat all men with courtesy and older men with respect. Double that for women. Don’t be a drunkard; don’t be a borrower or lender of money.
“Regardless of what the Guards’ captain and lieutenants call for in the way of drill, you know what you must do to keep your own edge. If they don’t drive you that hard, then you must drive yourself.
“And above all, remember that you are of Clan Ailane. No one can take that from you, but don’t you be giving it up, either.”
“I won’t, Da. I’ll make you proud.” And Duncan, too, went unspoken, but not unthought.
Nial reached out to cup the back of Llêw’s head and draw him into a fierce embrace, which Llêw returned with equal strength. For all that he was as broad as his father, and of equal mass, he was a couple of fingers’ width shorter, which made it just that little bit easier for Nial to draw his head down and bestow a kiss on the crown of it.
“You will swear the oath of fire, salt, and blood when you enter the king’s court,” Nial said quietly. “Be worthy of that oath, be worthy of your salt, your blood, and it will be enough for pride and love alike.” He looked up, then back at his son. “Now be off with you. Ander corFarin is trying to muster the lot of you going down to the city and he has that look of trying to contain yearling lambs. Mount up, son, and don’t look back.”
Nial bent and cupped his hands, giving Llêw a boost into his saddle. Llêw settled into the saddle, feet in the stirrups. He looked at his father; there was nothing more to say. He lifted his hand up in a gesture of farewell, and urged Brightwing into a walk toward where Ander corFarin, leader of the replacements contingency for the Highland Guards in Nika, was sitting his horse trying to bring order to a milling pack of mostly young men.
Llêw urged his horse through the throng, until Brightwing stood almost nose to nose with Ander’s horse, then stopped. It wasn’t long before another rider slipped into place to his left. They exchanged glances and nods.
“Llêw corNial, Clan Ailane,” Llêw tendered the introduction.
“Kai corGoladh, Clan Ramessey.” It was too loud to have an extended conversation, but they exchanged a quick handclasp, then sat together facing Ander corFarin. Together they formed a nucleus around which the other travelers began to form up. It took some time, but eventually they were gathered, and still, and all facing Ander.
“I am Ander corFarin, Clan Argidh, and for my sins I have been made leader of this company by the council of clans. From this moment,” Ander bellowed, “you’re under raiding party discipline—no wandering off on side trips, no wandering off alone, you obey any orders given by me or by Casadin corGault, Clan Argidh,” a dour compact man ranged behind Ander with a couple of others half-lifted a hand in acknowledgment, “Drystan corErich, Clan Shilean,” a nod from that one, “and Gawdroch corBranalt, Clan Lhear.” That one offered a huge grin, and nodded as well. He at least would not be hard to remember—he was far and away the largest clansman Llêw had ever seen—a full head taller than Duncan was, and Duncan was well nigh the tallest Llêw knew of from their clan. Gawdroch was also burly—enough so that Llêw decided this was one man he never wanted to wrestle if he had a choice.
“Sort yourself out in a column of twos,” Ander shouted. “Put the baggage mules in at the end of the column for today. Starting tomorrow, baggage goes in the center and we’ll put out advance and rear guards and scouts to the sides where the terrain allows it.
“Hope you’ve said your goodbyes,” Ander concluded. “Head out, now.”
With that, Ander turned his horse and moved toward the head of the trail. Llêw and Kai looked at each other. Kai shrugged, Llêw nodded, and they toed their horses into motion, following Ander.
Llêw didn’t look back.