Kingsdale's mercenaries were greeted by Callan at the gates of Danvegen with a good deal of drunkenness. To the surprised McLaughlins, with unsteady voice but proudly he declared, his hand pressed to the sides.
"I just nodded with my little finger and those rascals followed me. Show them where to sleep and feed them, I'm tired and I'll go to bed." McLaughlin glared at him.
Osgar and Oisin lifted Callan on the shoulders and, revered as a hero, carried up the stairs of Danvegen.
"Yes, yes," sniffed the hero, "carry me, lift me, put me on the softness of the bed!"
The next morning, Callan woke up with a terrible hangover. His head was dizzy, his legs were like a jelly, his body was shaking with chills. Sir Malcolm stood in the doorway and watched with a smile as yesterday's hero tried in vain to hit his foot in his pants.
"For God's sake, Malcolm, bring something to cure this!" Callan groaned and fell back into bed with pants only on one leg. Malcolm left and returned a moment later, carrying a wide silver cup, from which fragrant vapor rose.
"Our priests know great medicine for such cases."
He handed the cup to Callan, who, with great agony, had managed to lift himself up to half-sitting position and watched the offered drink with swollen eyes distrustfully. The boy took the cup out of Malcolm's hand, sniffed suspiciously, and, with both hands wrapped around the container, emptied the contents in one go. Then, burping loudly five times, Callan jumped out of bed and exclaimed.
"Wonderful remedy! Like nothing had ever happened! Hey, couldn't you give me a recipe?"
"It's quite simple – liquid pig dung, ground bat bones, dried mouse tongues and butterfly larvae are mixed in equal parts. It's all laced with linseed infusion and the drink is ready," Sir Malcolm's face was unshakably calm.
Callan shot his hand at the throat and swallowed. Malcolm loudly laughed. "I'm joking, my boy. In fact, all the recipes are kept secret by the druids, but, believe me, they use mainly various healing herbs."
Callan grinned crookedly. "I'm happy with your sense of humour. If those priests of yours love to joke like that, then the things here are flying high."
"You'll be able to see for yourself right now, because we'll go to them as soon as you're dressed. There you will tell you what you heard and saw yesterday in Kingsdale."
"Oh yes," Callan recalled, "I have extremely important news. All together and also for you separately. While I'm dressing, sit back and listen."
And Callan told Sir Malcolm in short words what he had heard from Daiermed. As Callan spoke, Sir Malcolm's face grew pale and contorted.
"So, it comes out that Daiermed is Conan's half-brother, the son of the woman you've loved more than anything in the world. And you're going to kill her son in the next battle?"
Sir Malcolm, immersed in deep thought, with his eyes lost in a haze of pain and contemplation, was silent for a moment. Then he looked into Callan's eyes, smiled sadly, and said.
"I wouldn't want to believe that Daiermed could be Lady Ryanon's son. Sir Engus is my old enemy, and once upon a time we both competed for the lady's love... But her heart was leaning towards me from the beginning, just like mine to her. Lady Ryanon left her tribe out of love for me, and on a marvellous day, when a bright summer sky was shining in the waters of Lake Danvegen and the blooming heather covered its flaming purple blanket over the hills, I carried my fair wife to Danvegen. For more than a year, we lived in great happiness and harmony. My love for Lady Ryanon was so great that I quit hunting and other amusements so that I could be near her every moment."