
MacMalkom. He has stood at Starn's back in every battle, and for every man his chief has killed, Flann
has slain two. When the sorcerers of Sarlow raised the demon-host against the Tumbalian hills a few
years gone, Flann wrought great deeds with the enchanted blade that the elves gave him; and it was he
alone who sought out and slew the dragon-bird, S'thagura, who ate a hundred men in one day. Not a
champion in Y'gora has more songs about his deeds, saving only Carroll Mac Lir: the songs of the
harpers ring with his name."
"Except for Tahion," said Istvan, "I know no one here. And what songs from Y'gora cross the ocean
usually tell of things long past, so I know little of living heroes. Tell me, who is that at the next table? The
islander there, with his war-flail? And the other, with the scythe?" He gestured at the gaunt, big-boned
redhead, who wore the long tartan robe of an islander from east of Airaria. Across his table lay the
bladed war-flail, which Istvan had seen used in battle: a tricky weapon, that only an expert might use
safely, with a- long flattened iron bar attached to a longer handle by a length of chain, part of the bar filed
to a chisel-edge.
"That is Ingulf, Son of Fingold," said Arthfayel, "of the Clan Hua-Eliron from Tray Ithir in the Eastern
Isles. Some call him 'the Wanderer,' but others call him Ingulf the Mad. He is a strange one: they say he
served in the Emperor's army for some years, but came west and wandered about the Three Kingdoms.
Some say he has been to the City of the Sea-Elves, where men do not go, and that it was there that he
got the enchanted sword that he calls Frostfire. It was he, with Carroll Mac Lir, who led that wild raid
into Sarlow which freed so many men and women from slavery. The other islander is Fithil of the
Curranach, Swordmaster of the Clan MacAran, from the Isle of Tongorem. Some say he is the best
swordsman of the Isles."
The man he indicated was blond: his eyes pale blue on each side of a nose hooked and lean, that stood
out like a beak from the thin face. His red-and-blue checked robe was held shut by a broad leather belt
with ornate buckle. The handle of the scythe stood up by his chair.
A GATHERING OF HEROES 11
"Being from the continent yourself," said Arthfayel, "you may not know how deadly the war-scythe of the
Curranach may be—"
"I've seen it used in Airaria," said Istvan.
"Ah, have you indeed?" White teeth flashed in the black beard. "During this last Raiding Season, no
doubt. I hear tell of a grim battle there against Norian Raiders, and of great deeds done by your kinsman,
Istvan the Archer."
Istvan looked away, wordless, but Tahion's voice cut in. "There is another islander here," he said,
gesturing toward the shadows near the back of the hall, "whose face is not known to me, nor is his plaid
familiar. Do you know him?" As Arthfayel turned to see, Istvan shot Tahion a silent look of gratitude.
The third islander sat alone in a far, dark corner of the room, away from the fire, and with no candles
near. He was a short, heavy-set man, black-haired, with skin as brown as ale, and the dark checks of his
tartan robe were set aslant, in strange diamond shapes. He seemed ill at ease, gripping a short spear or
staff in his brown fist, and casting wary glances around him.
Arthfayel's brow crinkled, and he turned back with a puzzled shake of his head.
"He must be from far away indeed, from the Duvgall Islands, or beyond. His sword is straight, or I might
guess his Clan some kin to the McDymio. But I do not know the plaid. It is not the MacRu nor the
MacArik, but those are the only Clans from that far away I have seen."
"Is there no rumour of any such traveler in Elthar?"
"None, unless it be that brawler, Karik Mac Ulatoc," Arthfayel snorted. "He is not one the Elf-Lords are
likely to summon!" He rubbed roughly at his beard. "I wonder, now—?"
"But who is that, at the table beyond?" Istvan asked quickly, waving.a hand at the black-bearded man he
had ;; passed on his way to the table.
|; "Yon black-beprded bull of a man? That is Fergus Mac f. Trenar, the Champion of the King of Elantir.
Ruro Halfbreed, if famed wizard-smith of the dwarves, wrought that glittering ^ sword of heroes,
Aibracan, that Fergus had from his father, and with which he has again and again stood off invaders from
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