‘That is all?’

‘Mostly. A couple of servants, Leal and Ham. And one other spear, Bernal Heavyhand – heard of him?’

Orman felt his brows rise in surprise. ‘Yes. Father spoke of him. I thought he was dead.’

‘Not yet. Works as our smith. Game in the leg from the battle of Imre’s Ford.’

Orman glanced away. That battle had seen the shattering of Queen Eusta’s supporters – his father included. He helped himself to a drinking horn and a share of the warm ale. He sipped the rich malty beer while studying the faded tapestries, the smoke-darkened rafters, the floor of packed dirt covered in straw, and the hounds growling and gnawing on bones under the table. He decided that he’d probably just made a very great mistake. He didn’t know what he’d been expecting. But this certainly wasn’t it.

Should’ve taken the gold and his chances down south.

He glanced to the Reddin brothers, but their faces were always so closed it was impossible to see whether they shared his dismay. They sat quietly, peering about the hall, neither eating nor drinking.

Old Bear finished the dregs in his drinking horn and wiped the back of his hand across his beard. ‘Well,’ he announced. ‘It has been a long day’s journey.’ He gestured to the rolls of furs and blankets against the wall. ‘I plan to sleep soundly this night.’ He stood, stretching and groaning, and crossed to a pile of bedding which he dragged next to the hearth. He wrapped his old bear cloak about himself and lay down. Two of the huge shaggy hounds padded over and curled up next to him. Orman could only tell which was which from the colours of the ragged pelts: the hounds were an iron-grey, while Old Bear was a ruddy brown.

The brothers shared a glance then followed suit. They unrolled blankets on opposite sides of the broad hearth, set their spears down next to the bedding and began unbuckling their leather hauberks.

Orman, however, did not feel the call of sleep. Restless, he walked down the hall to the doors and stepped out into the gathering dusk. The air was already quite chill. The cold of night came quickly in the heights. Below, the sweep of dark forest descended on and on to end at an arc of glimmering black – the Sea of Gold. Beyond, he thought he could make out the jagged silhouette of the Bone range.

Above, the sky was clear but for a few passing scraps of cloud. The stars seemed so bright and crisp he again had the impression that they were gems he could reach out and pluck. He stood still, enjoying the cold breeze upon his face. While the hall was enormous, far larger than his uncle’s, which was the largest outside Mantle town, he’d felt enclosed and uncomfortable within. He much preferred to be outside.