I should have gone straight after Keld, not sat at Uthandun waiting for him, Sig berated herself, not for the first time, as she ran through the rain, each drop feeling like a chip of ice flung into her face by a spite-filled wind. She’d left Hammer in the stable at Uthandun, her paw not yet recovered enough for a hard run across the wind-blasted hills of Ardain. At the edge of Sig’s vision she glimpsed Rab, the albino crow flapping stoically onwards, a white blur amidst the sheeting downpour.

Cullen rode alongside Sig, head down and cloak up against the wind and rain. Sig had thought about ordering him to stay behind, but he was part of her crew. He’d splinted and bound his wounded arm with strips of wood and leather.

Elgin rode at Sig’s left, grim-faced, a score of men in column behind them. Nara had wanted to come herself, but Elgin and Sig had convinced the Queen of Ardain to remain at Uthandun. Rab had said that he’d found Keld’s hounds, not Keld himself. They’d left as soon as they could after Rab’s arrival, making the most of what day remained before nightfall. Since then Sig had hardly shared a word with the white crow, who had led them north-west, past the hill where the Kadoshim had been discovered, on into foothills that had once separated the realms of Narvon and Cambren, long united now by the marriage of Conall and Edana over a hundred years ago.

They’d made camp as darkness fell. Rab had disappeared, only rejoining them with a screeching admonishment to hurry up as dawn crept unannounced across the land, a grey, rain-soaked shroud. Now Sig guessed it was close to highsun, though that was hard to tell – a diffuse glow only hinting at a sun beyond the leaden sky. They were climbing steadily into the hills, the terrain a bleak mixture of exposed granite and stunted, twisted trees.

‘Sets a good pace, that crow of yours,’ Elgin said.

‘Aye,’ grunted Sig, concentrating on the loose rocks and rabbit holes at her feet. To her surprise and anger she was feeling the pace that Rab was setting, lungs burning, legs aching – she, who used to run for a ten-night as easy as rising.

There’s a lot to be said for riding bears into battle, but I’m going to have to do something about this.

Ahead, Rab began to circle a spot, spiralling downwards.

Sig wiped rain from her eyes, saw forms materializing upon the path where it narrowed before a sharp turn. To the right was a sheer rock face, to the left a steep drop to a fast-flowing stream. Sig slowed, loosened the sword sheathed across her back, Elgin and Cullen doing the same.