‘Least you don’t charge a flesh tithe for the service, like the Ben-Elim,’ he said, then shook his head. ‘I didn’t come here to grumble and complain. I was asked to deliver a package. To you,’ he added, looking at Sig. He bent down and rummaged in a bag at his feet, straightened with a package in his hand, about the size of a wooden plate, bound with twine, and held it out to her.

Sig turned it in her hands, saw it was some kind of spun wool, dyed black, though faded. With big fingers she undid the twine and let it fall away, unfolding the cloth. She stood there a moment, just staring.

Sig trod the spiral stairs of Crow Tower, torchlight flickering, her shadow stretching before and behind her. The cawing of crows grew louder, and then she was stepping into the chamber, a high-roofed room with a tree growing at its centre, spreading wide branches that were full of dark-shadowed nests.

‘Sig, Sig, Sig,’ a crow squawked, others joining until her name was ringing out like a manic battle-cry, Sig fighting the urge to cover her ears.

‘All right!’ she yelled and the crows fell silent.

She scanned the nests in the tree, saw black-feathered heads and glistening eyes staring down at her, eventually found what she was looking for. A gleam of white feathers in the highest reaches of the chamber, Rab peering out of a nest that teetered on the thinnest of branches. He puffed his feathers out, pleased to see her.

Tain was standing below a branch, having a conversation with a crow perched above him. Craf was sitting upon a table, one scabby wing over his head, sleeping. Sig thought she could hear snoring. Tain saw Sig and raised a hand, then came over.

‘Sten’s back from the east. More beacons and unrest,’ Tain said. He paused, looking at Sig’s face. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘I need to speak to Rab, and I’ve a message I’d like you to send to your da in Drassil.’

‘Cullen,’ Sig said, standing over the young warrior in the feast-hall. A dark-haired woman was draped across his lap and he was curling ringlets in her hair with a finger, his other hand emptying a horn of mead down his throat. Sig recognized the woman as one of Tain’s helpers from Crow Tower.

Ah, now that would explain why Cullen knows so much about the behaviour of crows.

‘Eh? What?’ Cullen said as his eyes focused on Sig.

She turned and walked away. When she heard Cullen swear and stumble to his feet, the slap of boots as he ran after her, she nodded to herself.