Conn smiled and shook his head. 'I do not understand all she had planned, my friend. But I know if I fail to keep this promise the Rigante will fail in their war with Jasaray. I cannot explain it. I saw so much . . . I saw Jasaray in many guises, on many worlds. He won every battle he fought. I saw visions of horror beyond belief, of worlds dying, the air poisoned by towers belching poisons into the air, of dead trees, their leaves scorched, and fertile lands turned into deserts. I saw men with grey faces and frightened eyes, living in cities of stone, scurrying like ants from day to day. In truth I wish I had never touched her!'

'You think these visions will come to pass in the lands of the Rigante?' asked the druid.

'I do not know. I only know what I must do. And that is ride to the circle. Alone.'

'They will kill you, Conn. I know this Guern. He is charismatic and men follow him, but he is a vile creature, and there is no honour in him. He is big – almost as big as Fiallach – and he can fight. He's killed several men in blood feuds. And he will not be alone. You will be.'

'I have always been alone,' said Conn. 'I think we all are.'

Bane saddled a chestnut mare, then walked back into the farmhouse. Gryffe and Iswain were waiting in the main room. 'When will you be back?' asked Gryffe.

'Some day,' Bane told him. Reaching into the pocket of his black, sleeveless jerkin, he produced a rolled parchment. 'I made this deed in Three Streams the day the army moved out. It has been witnessed by three elders.' He handed it to Gryffe. 'It deeds the farm and all cattle and land to you.' He grinned at the surprise on Gryffe's features. 'You are no longer Wolfshead, Gryffe. You are a landowner.'

'I don't understand,' muttered the red-bearded warrior.

'He's not coming back,' said Iswain. She moved in to stand before Bane. 'Why are you doing this?'

He shrugged. 'I have a need to wander, Iswain.'

'It is more than that,' she said.

'If it is, then I choose not to talk about it. You said you and Gryffe were dreaming of a place of your own. Somewhere to raise children, to watch sunsets as you grow older. This is a good place, and I think you will be happy here.'

'We are happy here,' said Iswain. 'And we would both like to see you happy.'

He drew her into an embrace and kissed her plump cheek. 'When I come back we will have a feast, and I shall regale you with my adventures.' He turned to Gryffe and thrust out his hand. Gryffe ignored it and stepped in, drawing Bane into a bear hug.