A WHUMPH as the barrel ignited and he kicked it over, hairs singeing, the men behind him skidding, one pushed by those behind him into the flames, screeching in agony, and Drem was running on, grabbing the reins of the pony he’d left saddled and tethered at the back of the barn and kicking at the boards he’d cut partway through last evening. He crashed out into bright daylight and snow, his pony only too eager to follow and escape from the flames and screams. Drem clambered onto his mount, dragging on the reins and cantered round the side of the barn to the front of his yard. Shouts behind him, the crunch of footsteps in snow told him there were at least some that still chased him.

A handful of men were still in the yard, three or four. More staggering out from the barn. One of them was on fire, a human torch.

Six still standing in the yard, at least, and more behind me, and I’m out of tricks. Too many for me to take. Time to ride for Kergard, and get this lot to chase me. If I make it, then Ulf, Hildith and the Assembly will have to get involved, will have to protect me. It could lead to them doing something about the mine.

He put his heels to his pony and she neighed and leaped forwards, a dozen strides and she was close to a gallop, wind ripping tears from Drem’s eyes, the gateway of his courtyard looming closer.

An impact, a scream from his mount and he was falling, threw himself clear and grunted as he hit the snow, saw his pony rolling, a spear protruding from her chest. She screamed again, tried to regain her feet, but her strength was failing her, blood staining the snow pink.

Drem staggered to his feet, looked about wildly, saw Wispy and a handful of men running at him, the sound of men behind.

Some detached, analytical part of Drem’s mind hoped that the goats and chickens were all right, that they’d escaped from the fire that was now blazing through the barn, black smoke belching into the sky.

Almost made it.

He drew his sword, felt a comfort in the knowledge he’d put up a good fight, more than good. Enough to make his da proud. He just wanted to take Wispy Beard with him now. Wispy was running towards Drem, sword in his fist, screaming orders, spittle flying, almost incoherent.

‘Why don’t you come and kill me yourself?’ Drem shouted, surprising himself with the passion he felt, and he strode towards Wispy. Was pleased to see a flicker of fear in the man’s eyes. But then others were flanking him, spreading into a half-circle about Drem.