Free Ravenheart by David Gemmell Page A

asked Kaelin.
    “Aye. Is Jaim still in the front room?”
    “Yes, Aunt.”
    “Send him in to me and then be on your way.”
    Kaelin smiled at her, then swung away. Maev walked to thelarder and lifted down the stone milk jug. She filled a cup, then sipped the creamy liquid.
    “You wanted me, Maev?” said Jaim Grymauch. She finished her milk, leaving the huge, one-eyed warrior standing in the doorway. Then she turned and looked at him. Jaim normally radiated a physical power that was almost elemental, but he was nervous now under her gaze.
    When she finally spoke, her voice was hard and cold. “ ’Tis said that one of the Moidart’s men was killed when two raiders made off with his prize bull.”
    “Whisht, woman! No one died. ’Tis a terrible lie.”
    “It is also said that the Moidart has offered a five-pound reward for the naming of the criminals.”
    “Five pounds. That is a lot,” Jaim said with a grin. “By heaven, I’m tempted to hand myself in for such a reward.”
    “Wipe that smirk from your face!” snapped Maev. “Will you be smiling when they take Kaelin and put the rope around his neck?”
    Instinctively Jaim touched two fingers to his lips, then tapped them upon his chest in the sign of the Sacrifice. “Do not say such things. Not even in jest. Kaelin wasn’t seen. When I took the bull to the Pinance, I made the boy stay back in the woods.” He stepped in closer. “Now tell me the truth. Are you angry with me for stealing the bull or for carrying the sick woman here?”
    Maev was shocked. “Do you think so little of me, Grymauch? Bringing her here was to your credit. No, I am angry because of your stupidity.” Maev sighed. “It is more than the bull, Grymauch. I think you want to die. I don’t pretend to understand it, but there is a need in you to spit in the eye of the Devil. Had I known you were planning to rob the Moidart, I would have refused Kaelin permission to go with you. All cattle owners know that some of their stock will be lost. Largely they accept it. Not the Moidart. He will not rest until the thieves are found and hanged. You will take Kaelin on no more raids. You understand?”
    “He’ll be a man within the year, Maev. He’ll make his own choices then.”
    “Aye, he will. But until then no more raids. I’ll require your oath on that.”
    Lifting the black headband clear of his face, he rubbed at the stitch marks above the empty socket. “It troubles me still. Can you believe that?”
    Maev was unmoved. “Your oath, Grymauch.”
    “Aye, all right, woman,” he snapped. “You have it. No more raids until he is a man. Then perhaps you can find him employment licking the boots of the Varlish.”
    She stepped in close, her green eyes blazing with anger. Even so her voice was calm and controlled. “And what will you teach him, Jaim Grymauch? How to puke after too much ale? How to break the bones of men you do not know? How to hide in the heather while other men gather crops or tend cattle? Where is your home, Jaim? Where is your wife? Where are your bairns? You have none. So what are you?” Maev moved in even closer to the big man. “You’re a seed blowing in the wind. You cannot settle, you cannot change, you cannot grow. When you die, Jaim Grymauch, it will be as if you never were. You will leave nothing behind save a few memories, and even they will fade in time. Lick the boots of the Varlish, you say? How long would it take them to defeat us if all men were like you? One generation, Jaim. Then we’d all be gone.” She swung away from him and moved to the larder, returning the milk jug to its place on the shelf.
    “It might be better if we were,” he said softly. “Once we were wolves; now we are puppy dogs to be kicked and thrashed by the Varlish. And look at you, Maev. You are bright and intelligent. Aye, and you are rich. But you wear old clothes, and Kaelin has threadbare shirts. And why? So that you will not appear to
shine
before the Varlish. They