women.
Now there was the business of the lowland boy, and the almost perverse use of clan law to accommodate the act. How could he invoke Cormoach for such a one? The old law - crafted to allow for the children of a fallen warrior to be adopted by relatives of the hero - had never been invoked to bring a lowlander into the clans.
Cambil had refused to speak publicly against Caswallon, but privately he had voiced his disgust in the Council. Yet Caswallon, as always, was impervious to criticism.
It was the same when he caught two Haesten hunters on Farlain lands. He had thrashed them with his quarterstaff, but he had not cut off their fingers. That and his marriage to Maeg had left the Council furious: a slight, they called it, on every Farlain maiden.
Against their fury Caswallon adopted indifference. And in some quarters this fanned the fury to hatred.
All of this Maeg knew, for there were few secrets among the Farlain, and yet Caswallon never spoke of it. Always he was courteous, even to his enemies, and rarely had anyone in the three valleys seen him lose his temper. This was read by many as a sign of weakness, but among the women, who often display greater insights in these matters, there was no doubt as to Caswallon's manhood.
If he didn't maim the hunters, there was a reason that had naught to do with cowardice. And Caswallon's reasons, whatever they were, were good enough for his friends. Since no answer would justify his actions to those who hated him, Caswallon offered them exactly that - no answer.
It was a matter of sadness for Maeg that the result of the hatred would be the letting of blood and a death feud between Farlain houses. But that was a worry for tomorrow, and there were always more pressing problems of today to concern the women of the mountains.
Hawk Queen 2 - The Hawk Eternal
2
UNAWARE OF THE controversy, of which he was now a part, the boy Gaelen sat in the cave slowly unwinding the bandage around his head, gently easing it from the line of stitches on his brow and cheek.
With infinite care he rubbed away the clotted blood sealing the eyelid and gently prised the eye open. At first his vision was blurred, but slowly it cleared and perspective returned, though a pink haze disturbed him. By the hearth was a silver mirror. Gaelen picked it up and gazed at his reflection. No expression crossed his face as he looked upon his scars, but something cold settled on his heart as he saw the eye.
It was totally red, suffused with blood, giving him a demonic appearance. The top of his head had been shaved to allow the stitches to be inserted, though now the hair was growing again. But it was growing white around the scar.
A change came over him then, for he felt the fear of the Aenir drift away like morning mist, making way for something far stronger than fear.
Hatred filled him, instilling in his soul a terrible desire for vengeance.
For three weeks Gaelen stayed in or around the cave, watching the rain and the sunshine that followed it turn the mountain gorse to gold. He saw the snow recede from the mountain peaks and the young deer emerge from the woods to the fast-flowing streams. In the distance he saw a great brown bear stretching to claw his territorial mark on the trunk of a wiry elm, and the rabbits hopping in the long grass of the meadow in the pink light of dawn.
At night he talked to Oracle, the two of them sitting on a rug before the fire. He heard the history of the clans, and began to learn the names of the legendary heroes - Cubril, the man known as
Blacklatch, who first carried the Whorl stone; Grigor, the Flame-dancer who fought the enemy even as his house burned around him; Ironhand and Dunbar. Strong men. Clansmen.
Not all of them were from the Farlain, that was the strange thing to Gaelen. The clansmen hated each other, yet would glory in tales of heroes from other clans. 'It's no use trying to understand
Now there was the business of the lowland boy, and the almost perverse use of clan law to accommodate the act. How could he invoke Cormoach for such a one? The old law - crafted to allow for the children of a fallen warrior to be adopted by relatives of the hero - had never been invoked to bring a lowlander into the clans.
Cambil had refused to speak publicly against Caswallon, but privately he had voiced his disgust in the Council. Yet Caswallon, as always, was impervious to criticism.
It was the same when he caught two Haesten hunters on Farlain lands. He had thrashed them with his quarterstaff, but he had not cut off their fingers. That and his marriage to Maeg had left the Council furious: a slight, they called it, on every Farlain maiden.
Against their fury Caswallon adopted indifference. And in some quarters this fanned the fury to hatred.
All of this Maeg knew, for there were few secrets among the Farlain, and yet Caswallon never spoke of it. Always he was courteous, even to his enemies, and rarely had anyone in the three valleys seen him lose his temper. This was read by many as a sign of weakness, but among the women, who often display greater insights in these matters, there was no doubt as to Caswallon's manhood.
If he didn't maim the hunters, there was a reason that had naught to do with cowardice. And Caswallon's reasons, whatever they were, were good enough for his friends. Since no answer would justify his actions to those who hated him, Caswallon offered them exactly that - no answer.
It was a matter of sadness for Maeg that the result of the hatred would be the letting of blood and a death feud between Farlain houses. But that was a worry for tomorrow, and there were always more pressing problems of today to concern the women of the mountains.
Hawk Queen 2 - The Hawk Eternal
2
UNAWARE OF THE controversy, of which he was now a part, the boy Gaelen sat in the cave slowly unwinding the bandage around his head, gently easing it from the line of stitches on his brow and cheek.
With infinite care he rubbed away the clotted blood sealing the eyelid and gently prised the eye open. At first his vision was blurred, but slowly it cleared and perspective returned, though a pink haze disturbed him. By the hearth was a silver mirror. Gaelen picked it up and gazed at his reflection. No expression crossed his face as he looked upon his scars, but something cold settled on his heart as he saw the eye.
It was totally red, suffused with blood, giving him a demonic appearance. The top of his head had been shaved to allow the stitches to be inserted, though now the hair was growing again. But it was growing white around the scar.
A change came over him then, for he felt the fear of the Aenir drift away like morning mist, making way for something far stronger than fear.
Hatred filled him, instilling in his soul a terrible desire for vengeance.
For three weeks Gaelen stayed in or around the cave, watching the rain and the sunshine that followed it turn the mountain gorse to gold. He saw the snow recede from the mountain peaks and the young deer emerge from the woods to the fast-flowing streams. In the distance he saw a great brown bear stretching to claw his territorial mark on the trunk of a wiry elm, and the rabbits hopping in the long grass of the meadow in the pink light of dawn.
At night he talked to Oracle, the two of them sitting on a rug before the fire. He heard the history of the clans, and began to learn the names of the legendary heroes - Cubril, the man known as
Blacklatch, who first carried the Whorl stone; Grigor, the Flame-dancer who fought the enemy even as his house burned around him; Ironhand and Dunbar. Strong men. Clansmen.
Not all of them were from the Farlain, that was the strange thing to Gaelen. The clansmen hated each other, yet would glory in tales of heroes from other clans. 'It's no use trying to understand
Similar Books
The Letter
Sandra Owens
The Billionaire Boss's Innocent Bride
Lindsay Armstrong
Desire (#2)
Carrie Cox
By His Hand: Truly Yours Digital Edition
Jennifer Johnson
Father of the Bride
Edward Streeter
Cates, Kimberly
Briar Rose
Effortless With You
Lizzy Charles
The Ninth Man
Dorien Grey
Valkyrie's Kiss
Kristi Jones
Long Lankin
Lindsey Barraclough