and few are the men who reach fifty years of age. Childhood passes more swiftly here. Have you teamed yet for the Hunt next week?'
'Yes, I travel with Gwalchmai, Lennox and Layne.'
'Fine boys,' said Caswallon, 'although Gwalchmai is a little timid, I think. Are you content with the teaming?'
'Yes. We are meeting today to plan the Run."
'What problems will you face?'
'Lennox is strong, but no runner. We may not beat Agwaine's team to the first tree.'
'Speed is not everything," said Caswallon.
'I know.'
'Which of you will lead?'
'We're deciding that this afternoon - but I think it will be Layne.'
'Logical. Layne is a bright fellow.'
'Not as bright as Agwaine,' said Gaelen.
'No, but you are. You should enjoy yourselves.'
'Did you lead when you ran in the Hunt?'
'No. Cambil led.'
'Did you win?'
'Yes.'
'Was Cambil a good leader?'
'In his way. He still is. And he has been a good Hunt Lord for the Farlain.'
'But he doesn't like you, Caswallon. Everyone knows that.'
'You shouldn't listen to idle chatter. But you are right. He doesn't like me - but then he has good cause. Three years ago I robbed him of something. I didn't mean to, but it worked out that way, and he has not forgotten.'
'What did you steal?' asked Gaelen.
'I didn't actually steal anything. I just refused to stand against him for the position of Hunt Lord. I didn't want the role. So he was voted to it by the elders.'
'I don't understand. How can he hold that against you?'
That's a difficult question, Gaelen. Many people assumed I would try for Hunt Lord. In truth I would have lost, for Cambil is -and always was - worthy of the role. But had I stood and lost, he would have known he was considered the better man. Because I did not stand he will never know.'
'Is that why Agwaine doesn't like me?' asked Gaelen. 'Because his father doesn't like you?'
'Perhaps. I have been very selfish in my life, doing only that which I enjoyed. I should have acted differently. If I am nominated for the Council again I shall accept. But that is not likely.'
From the house below they heard Kareen calling. Gaelen waved at her, but Caswallon remained where he was.
'Go and eat,' he said. 'I will be down soon.'
He watched the boy running down the hillside and smiled, remembering his own Hunt Day fifteen years before. Every lad in the Farlain over the age of fourteen, and not yet a man, was teamed with three others and sent out into the mountains to recover a 'treasure'. Skilful hunters would lay trails, hide clues and signs, and the teams would track them down until at last one team returned with the prize. For Caswallon the prize they had sought was a dagger, hidden in a tree.
Often it was an arrow, or a lance, or a helm, or a shield. This year it was a sword, though none of the lads-knew it.
Every year Caswallon helped lay the trails and delighted in his work. But this year was special for him, for Gaelen would be taking part.
He removed from his pouch the strip of parchment Taliesen had given him and he re-read the words written there.
Seek the Beast that no one finds,
always roaring,
never silent,
beneath his skin,
by silver wings,
bring forth the
long lost
dream of kings.
After the meal Caswallon would read the verse to his new son, even as, all over the Farlain, fathers would be doing likewise. There were times, Caswallon considered, when tradition was a wholesome thing.
In the wide kitchen Caswallon's young son Donal lay on a woollen blanket by the hearth. Beside him slept the pup Gaelen had brought home; it had grown apace in the last two months, showing signs of the formidable beast it would be in the years ahead. Kareen sat beside Maeg opposite Gaelen, and they were all laughing as Caswallon entered.
'And what is amusing you?' he asked.
'Rest your poor bones at the table,' Maeg told him, 'and tell us, gently, how Gaelen here dumped you to the earth.'
'It was a wicked blow and I was unprepared,' he answered, seating himself beside the boy
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