“We have come today to celebrate the life of Bruce McFoster,” Harvey said in a loud clear voice. “Although he has left our clan, he will not be forgotten by us and those who fight with us. When the time comes for this planet’s revenge upon its violator he will hear the song of joy that all peoples will sing, for it will be so loud as to rock the dreaming heavens themselves.”
Harvey placed a small engraver tool against the marble at the end of an unfinished line of names. The little unit buzzed as its tiny blades began cutting the programmed pattern. Fine gray dust started to trickle down.
“I remember your laughter, Bruce,” Harvey said.
Kazimir stepped forward. “I remember your friendship, Bruce, you are my brother and always will be.” It was difficult to get the words out as his voice cracked. Tears were leaking down his cheeks.
“I remember your stubbornness, Bruce,” Scott rasped. “Keep it with you always, lad.”
A woman stepped forward. Kazimir didn’t hear what she said. The infant boy that Samantha was cradling began to wail loudly as if he understood what was happening, that he would never see or know his father.
The tributes lasted for some time. Eventually, the last McFosters had their say and the infant found the comfort of his mother’s breast. The buzz of the engraver fell silent. Kazimir stared brokenly at the new name on the marble, then hung his head, unable to bear the sight any longer.
People drifted away, leaving him and Samantha alone.
“Thank you, Kaz,” she said quietly. “Sometimes I think you and I are the only people who really cared about him.”
“Everybody cared,” he said automatically. Samantha was a few years older than he was, which had always made him kind of awkward around her. Now with Bruce gone, and the baby born, he was even more uncertain.
She smiled, though it was clearly an effort. The infant was only three weeks old, and she looked very tired. “You’re so sweet. Everybody knew him, especially my sisters in all the clans. There’s a difference. But at least he made his mark on this world, I think.”
Kazimir put his arm around her shoulders and they walked out of the memorial garden together. “Have you decided on his name yet?”
“Not Bruce, that would be too much. I’ve chosen Lennox, that was Bruce’s grandfather, and I have an uncle called that as well.”
“Lennox. That’s good. I expect that’ll be shortened to Len.”
“Yes.” She stroked the infant’s head. Lennox had lolled back into sleep again. “You should find someone, Kaz.”
“Huh?”
“Someone for yourself. It’s not right for anyone to be so alone.”
“I’m fine, thanks. I get plenty of offers, don’t worry.” It was the kind of thing he used to say to Bruce. His mind went back to Andria McNowak, and his broken promise to Bruce. He never did try to bed her after that terrible raid. In fact, he’d never bothered with any girl since then. As always, he had the memory of Justine to comfort him through the long hours of every sleepless night.
Scott and Harvey were waiting on the path, along with another man Kazimir didn’t know. Harvey beckoned.
“I’ll see you before you go, won’t I?” Samantha asked.
“Of course you will. I want… If you need anything, help with the baby, or something, please tell me.”
“You’re not obligated, you know.”
“I want to see him, Samantha. I would have wanted that even if Bruce were still alive.”
“All right then.” She stood on her toes and gave him a light kiss. “Thank you again, Kaz, you’ll make a wonderful uncle.”
He watched her walk off back to the village, a whole range of emotions messing his head around.
“Nice girl,” Harvey said. “I remember training her for a while.”
“Yeah,” Kazimir said.
“This is Stig McSobel,” Scott rasped in his damaged voice.
Kazimir shook hands with the stranger, surprised by how strong the grip was. He could look the man level in the eye, so he was no taller, but his shoulders were wide enough to stretch the fabric of his simple lace-up shirt. The McSobel was in his early thirties, with skin lighter than Kazimir’s, and a broad face that regarded the world with considerable amusement.
“I’ve heard a lot about you, Kaz,” Stig said. “You’ve earned quite a reputation for yourself on your last few raids.”
Kazimir gave Scott and Harvey a sharp glance. “Is this another lecture?”
“About recklessness and personal vengeance?” Harvey asked. “Why should it be? Did you not pay attention last time?”
Kazimir started to push past. Stig put out a hand to stop him. Again, the man’s strength was very evident.
“If you can keep that temper of yours under control, I can use you,” Stig said. “Harvey here says you can. The ceremony should have been cathartic, and now you’ll start to accept his death. Is that right?”
“I saw Bruce’s death. I watched him die, and I could do nothing.”
