‘I know that, son, but other people, they can take it wrong, think you’re criticizing, being rude. Some people don’t react well if they think you’re disrespecting them.’

‘But—’

‘I know, you don’t mean any harm, but just think before you speak, eh? And hold your tongue if that’s at all possible. Even if you don’t understand why it’s important. Do it for your old da.’

Drem winced, knowing that it would pain him, but he nodded. ‘I’ll try,’ he conceded.

Olin smiled and patted Drem’s shoulder.

It was good to be home. Olin unloaded the packhorses in the yard, all except the rock they’d dug out of the elk pit. He led the horse with the rock still upon its back around the rear of the barn, telling Drem to carry on until he returned. So Drem did: fires were lit, cobwebs and rats were swept and evicted from rooms, the horses rubbed down and put out to paddock, and a stew was set to simmering in a pot over the hearth. As he was seeing to these routine tasks Drem thought on his da and the lump of black rock they’d dug up.

I wish we’d never found it, and bringing it home with us! If it is what Da thinks it is, then a war that consumed the world began over something very similar.

That was not a comforting thought, and Drem resolved to talk to his da about it. He was carrying their pelts into the barn when his da joined him, hands and boots sticky with mud. Drem gave his da an enquiring look but received no response, so he carried on moving the pelts, his da washing down in a rain barrel and then silently helping. Once all the skins were under cover Drem began sorting through their tools in preparation for tanning.

I hate tanning skins, he thought, wrinkling his nose as he got a whiff of lime milk. It felt as if it singed off all the hairs up his nose.

‘We’ll start the tanning on the morrow,’ Olin said. ‘Just prepare for it now, then we’ll go and put some hot food in our bellies.’

Watching his da rest a hand upon the pile of skins, bow his head and pinch the top of his nose, Drem thought he looked more troubled than he had ever seen him.

Because of that stone we’ve found? I’m troubled, too.

‘Da, should we have brought that stone here? It’s—’

‘It’s better with me than anywhere else,’ Olin said, cutting him off.

‘But we could have left it there, buried it again.’

‘I could not live with the knowledge of it out there,’ Olin said, ‘just waiting to be found. At least with me, I know it cannot be put to any great evil.’

Evil!

‘But—’