Jaochim turned a frown upon him. ‘No, you say?’

Orman shot a look to Vala, but she stood motionless, her arms wrapped around herself, her lips drawn tight. Obviously she was fearful but would not interfere; perhaps she saw the need, or the obligation. He swallowed his sudden dread and cursed himself. ‘There are twenty …’

Jaochim nodded, patted Jass on the shoulder. ‘All the more need for another spear.’ He urged Jass out. ‘You will leave at once. The Eithjar will guide you.’

Old Bear bowed. ‘At once, Jaochim.’ He waved Orman off. ‘Get your gear.’

He waited before the Greathall. He had little gear to ready: just his father’s travelling leathers, his knives, a sleeping roll and a pouch of dried meat and hard cheese. And Svalthbrul, of course. Keth and Kasson emerged side by side wearing their heaviest armour: boiled leather hauberks with mailed sleeves and vambraces. Helmets were pushed back on their heads. They carried shields on their backs, longswords at their sides, and spears in hand.

Old Bear came out escorting Jass, who now wore a leather hauberk that was a touch on the large side for his gangly frame. The sword at his side also looked rather too big for him, and he carried his spear.

Orman went to Old Bear’s side. ‘Is this it, then?’ he whispered, low and fierce. ‘Just we five?’

‘Six,’ Bear answered, grinning – foolishly, Orman thought. ‘Gerrun is probably with them.’

‘With them? What do you mean, with them?’

The big man winked, and the gesture – as if this were all in good fun – infuriated Orman. ‘Don’t you remember the hunting party that came chasing you? Gerrun joined it. He’s with most parties that come up from the lowlands. Offers his services as a guide, he does.’

Old Bar headed off, jogging down the path that led to the trail out of the valley. Orman followed. He thought now of Gerrun, offering to guide his uncle, or perhaps merely joining the party for coin. How many times had the man gone alone among enemies? He shook his head in admiration. And he’d thought him a coward!

Later, as evening darkened beneath the trees, their pace slowed. The uneven ground was treacherous, the path nearly non-existent. Orman had the rear and Old Bear had fallen back to join him, or rather, the party now kept the old man’s pace as he puffed and lumbered along. ‘I understand your reluctance regarding Jass, lad,’ Old Bear said as they descended a steep rocky stretch. Orman didn’t answer. ‘Don’t you worry now. We’ll all look out for him, won’t we? And you can bet the Eithjar will also.’

‘Can they stop a sword?’ Orman growled.

The old man hawked up a mouthful of phlegm and spat. ‘Well, no. But there’re other things they can do here on the lands of their Holding, you can be certain of that.’

Orman grunted, unimpressed. ‘Then they had better just stay out of my way.’