‘Well met, Tain,’ Sig said to him, and he beamed to see her, a broad smile that seemed to take over most of his face. It was unusual to see a giant smile, never mind a smile so huge or teeth so bright they could dazzle a charging warband.

‘I am glad you are returned to us safely,’ Tain said, looking from Sig to her companions. He was the crow master of Dun Seren, overseeing the care of the birds like Rab that nested in Crow Tower, a few score rare and gifted crows that had mastered the art of speech. They were born and bred from Crow Tower, their talent passed on to them by their sire, who at this moment was sitting upon Tain’s other shoulder.

Half of the crow’s feathers were missing, patches of pink skin flaking, his beak long and curved, old beyond years. The crow regarded Sig and her companions with bright, intelligent eyes, though, undimmed by his age. Those eyes swivelled to the Kadoshim’s head upon Byrne’s desk, and he squawked and bobbed, excited.

No. Pleased with himself.

‘Well met, Craf,’ Sig said, keeping the fondness she felt for the old crow from her voice. It did not do any good to show the crow that kind of kindness, he was notorious for exploiting it, as Tain, the giant he was perched upon, would readily testify.

‘Craf right then,’ the bird squawked, ‘Kadoshim in Ardan.’

‘It’s called Ardain, now, but yes, Craf,’ Byrne said.

‘Ardain, Ardan,’ Craf grumbled.

The world has changed much since you were hatched, old crow, Sig thought. Realms come and gone. Ardan, Domhain, Narvon and Cambren in the west becoming one realm, Ardain. And the Land of the Faithful, ruled by the Ben-Elim. Once the realms of Tenebral, Helveth, Carnutan, Tarbesh and Isiltir. And still the Ben-Elim spread their influence ever wider.

‘Though, to be fair, we all thought it so, and sent Sig based on that decision,’ Byrne pointed out to Craf.

‘Craf’s fledgling bairns first to tell,’ Craf said, flapping his wings in annoyance, a black feather drifting to the ground. Craf watched it fall with a beady eye.

Now look what made Craf do,’ he muttered. ‘Cold enough, now one less feather.’

‘I’ll fetch a blanket for you after,’ Tain said quietly.

‘Kind Tain,’ Craf crooned.

Crow master we named him, but it’s more like crow servant, Sig thought, keeping the smile from touching her lips.

‘So there’s one fewer Kadoshim in Ardain,’ Byrne said, bringing their attention back to the severed head upon her desk.

‘Aye,’ Sig said, ‘though there was more to it than we would ever have expected. There is much to tell you, of acolytes, of sacrifice and incantations. Of a new strategy amongst the Kadoshim. The slumbering beast stirs,’ Sig said ominously. ‘Something dread is afoot.’

‘Tell me,’ Byrne said.

So they did.