Rowena

  ‘But I swear it cannot have been them. We encountered them around noon that day. They couldn’t have travelled that quickly even if they could fly!’ Finn protested.

  Rowena opened her mouth to inquire if he was sure they couldn’t, but then chided herself for being a fool. Instead, she said, ‘The wounds were made by very sharp blades like theirs. I had a look at the boar that the woman killed. Did you see how little blood there was? It was like the metal of the blade was heated so it cauterised the wound instantly.’

  ‘I believe you, but it can’t have possibly been them. Ask the druids. The strangers are mighty but simple-minded creatures. There is no malevolence in them.’

  Gwydre cleared his throat. ‘It makes no sense to come here to buy iron if they have already stolen a good amount of it. ‘

  ‘Maybe it wasn’t enough. That is why they had to kill everyone. So no one would recognise them as thieves when they came under the guise of traders. Even if it wasn’t those five, they may have accomplices.’

  ‘Maybe they are willing to submit to a Soul Gaze?’ Brin suggested.

  ‘Fine. Call them in. I want to see those strangers myself,’ Oengus decided.

  Finn went to fetch them. Rowena wondered if she could ask about her own trial now, but decided it wasn’t the right time.

  ‘Do they look like they can pay?’ Oengus asked Gwydre.

  The druid smiled. ‘They look like they can buy King Brannor and his whole kingdom, chieftain. You are lucky they are looking for iron here and not further north.’

  ‘I wonder why anyone would cross the sea for something like iron. Surely they must have their own mines. It is not a scarce ore and very difficult to transport,’ Oengus mused.

  ‘Maybe they need more than they can mine in their kingdom.’

  ‘Why would anyone transport heavy loads of iron across the sea instead of land?’ Oengus muttered.

  ‘Well, they do seem a bit simple-minded and not very practical,’ Brin admitted.

  That cheered the chieftain up instantly. Rowena was sure he was calculating how much he could overcharge them for the iron.

  Finn returned with the visitors and Taliesin. Once they were informed of the events at the mine and Brin’s suggestion, the four knights looked to Killian, who declared himself willing to submit to a Soul Gaze.

  Gwydre enveloped him in shiny white mist and asked, ‘Have you or one of your companions killed the miners of this village?’

  ‘No. We have never killed any miners anywhere.’

  ‘Do you know who did it?’

  ‘I don’t.’

  ‘Do you intend to harm the people here?’

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  ‘No. We just want to buy iron.’

  Gwydre looked at the chieftain to see if he wanted more questions asked, but Rowena could see that the old man was already consumed with greed. His eyesight might be failing, yet even he could see how costly the visitors were dressed.

  ‘Are there any others of your tribe around?’ she quickly inquired.

  Oengus shot her a dirty look, but Gwydre repeated the question.

  ‘No,’ Killian replied readily.

  ‘Are you sure or do you just not know?’ she insisted.

  ‘I am not aware that anyone of my … tribe is here other than the five of us in this room. It is very unlikely since the journey here is not one that can be undertaken lightly.’

  ‘What do you need the iron for?’

  Gwydre frowned at her and put the question differently. ‘Do you intend to forge the iron into weapons to use against this tribe?’

  The bastard looked as if the idea alone was beneath him. ‘Most definitely not,’ he replied with a condescending smile.

  ‘That’s enough. I am satisfied,’ Oengus growled from his seat.

  ‘Wait!’ Rowena called out.

  ‘That is enough!’ the chieftain thundered, and Gwydre removed his Soul Gazer magic.

  ‘How much iron can you sell us?’ Killian asked immediately.

  The chieftain frowned. ‘Depends. What quality and grade? Are you aware of its value? How long are you prepared to wait?’

  ‘How much can we take with us now? How many of these do you require in exchange for one cart of a size that can be drawn by two horses?’ Killian replied calmly and got a large golden torque of exquisite workmanship from somewhere about his person.

  Rowena thought that alone should get him at least two carts, but Oengus declared, ‘Two such torques per cart.’

  ‘That is too much!’ Fin protested, earning himself a hateful look from his chief.

  ‘That seems higher than the usual price, chieftain,’ Gwydre agreed with Finn.

  ‘Fine. Three for two carts,’ Oengus grumbled.

  Finn opened his mouth to protest again, but Killian spoke first. ‘That is a reasonable price. How many do you have?’

  ‘We have one right now, but if you are willing to wait until the next full moon, we’ll have three.’

  ‘Fine. We will stay until then. And if we can help you find out who murdered your people, we are at your service as well.’

  Rowena left them to their negotiations about the quality grades, eager to escape the stifling hall. The druids followed her.

  ‘Are you willing to talk to me about what happened to you? Maybe after the funeral or tomorrow morning?’ Brin asked kindly.

  Rowena agreed, and the younger druids left to help prepare the rites. It was a comfort to have them there to help the spirits of the murdered on their way. Gwydre, however, stayed behind.

  ‘Could you show me what you found at the mining site? I’ve travelled a lot, maybe I can help,’ he suggested.

  ‘Gladly. I’ll fetch it in a moment. But may I ask you something first?’ He nodded, and she said, ‘I mean no disrespect, but are you sure your power works on those strangers?’

  The druid smiled. ‘I am sure now, but I must admit that I was worried when I first encountered them. Did you notice that golden glow when you started asking questions?’

  Rowena frowned. ‘I didn’t. What do you think it was?’

  ‘I am not even certain that I didn’t imagine it. Maybe it was just a trick of light. It was just a shimmer – there one moment, gone the next,’ he admitted.

  Rowena hesitated, almost too afraid of the answer to ask the question. ‘Why were you worried?’ she finally managed to say.

  He looked at her curiously. ‘You must have heard those stories about strange beings appearing out of nowhere around that cave.’

  ‘I know that old legend of a beautiful golden-haired goddess who wanders the forest in the spring and sings like a skylark. But nothing about silver-clad warriors.’

  ‘My grandmother lived near there as a young woman before she was captured by raiders and sold as a concubine to a Welsh chieftain. When she was deep into her cups, she used to tell us all kind of stories about the magic cave. But her favourite was about a young god decked out in silver, chasing through the woods on a water horse, surrounded by howling wolves. She and her girlfriends would often steal away to try and catch a glimpse of him because he was so handsome and laughed so beautifully that the whole forest echoed.’

  ‘Weren’t they afraid the wolves would eat them?’ Rowena asked with a frown.

  The druid burst out laughing. ‘You have a good head on your shoulders, young witch,’ he said with approval.

  ‘I don’t think they are gods. Especially the one with amber eyes who tried to eat flowers,’ she said sceptically.

  Gwydre smiled. ‘I agree. Now let’s see about that medallion before the funeral starts.’