‘Sinister things are happening. Men and women abducted, bound and slain, a great bonfire. Newcomers with murder in their hearts. I don’t know what to do. I know that my da was part of your Order, once, though he walked away a long time ago, and he has spoken to me of you, Byrne, and you, Sig, with great affection. If that counts for anything, after so many years have passed, then I would ask for your help. I would ask you to help me bring my da justice. I have thought on leaving Kergard and coming to you in person, but my heart will not let me leave while my da is unavenged.’

Sig looked up, feeling her blood stir, a cold anger, a white flame in her belly. A silence filled the stable.

‘Little Drem,’ Keld whispered, ‘Byrne’s nephew. The Ben-Elim wanted him as a ward, and Byrne said no. You used to sit him on the Stone of Heroes so that he’d stop chopping at your shins while you were teaching sword-skills.’

‘Aye.’ Sig smiled at the memory.

‘What do you want to do?’ Cullen asked.

‘I’m going to do as he asks,’ Sig said, ‘Byrne wants her nephew back – I’ve had to talk her out of coming with me. She’s needed here with all that’s happening. It sounds as if the Kadoshim are moving in the Desolation as well, so I’m going to poke a nose in and see what I can find. And more than that, I’m going to find some justice for my sword-brother and friend, Olin, and I’m going to bring Drem back to Dun Seren. He’s one of us. Was born here. This is his home.’ She looked at them both. ‘I’m asking you both to come with me. You’re my crew.’ She shrugged. ‘You don’t have to. I know what the morrow is, would not think less of either of you for wanting to stay.’

‘Of course I’m coming,’ Keld said, tightening his belt and looking for a cloak, as if he were going to walk out and head north right then and there.

‘But, what about Midwinter’s Day? The Remembrance? The feast. The drinking!’ Cullen said.

‘We’ll leave on the morrow, stay for the Naming, be away right after, long before highsun.’

‘But, the evening feast, the toast to the fallen,’ Cullen said. He knew the weight that Sig put upon honouring their fallen sword-kin, but Sig suspected he also looked forward to the evening feast for his own reasons.

‘It is good and right to honour the dead,’ Sig said. ‘But I’ll not turn my back on a brother that needs us.’

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE: RIV

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

RIV