It didn't help much that not everyone could make sense of everyone else. Of the Union, only West spoke Northern. Of the Northmen, only Dogman and Threetrees spoke Union. Tul might've caught the sense of what was being said, more or less.

Dow weren't even catching that. As for Grim, well, silence means pretty much the same in every tongue.

'What's he saying now?' growled Dow.

'Something about plans, I reckon,' said Tul back to him.

Dow snorted. 'All an arsehole knows about is shit.' Dogman saw West swallowing. He knew what was being said well enough, and he could tell some folk were running short on patience.

The Prince wasn't near so clever, though. 'It would be useful to know how many days you think it will take us to get to Ostenhorm—'

'We're not going south,' said Threetrees in Northern, before his Highness even finished talking.

West stopped blowing into his hands for a moment. 'We're not?'

'We haven't been since we set out.'

'Why?'

'Because Bethod's heading back north.'

'That's a fact,' said Dogman. 'I seen him today.'

'Why would he turn back?' asked West. 'With Ostenhorm undefended?'

Dogman sighed. 'I didn't stick around to ask. Me and Bethod ain't on the best of terms.'

'I'll tell you why,' sneered Dow. 'Bethod ain't interested in your city. Not yet anyhow.'

'He's interested in breaking you up into pieces small enough to chew on,' said Tul.

Dogman nodded. 'Like that one you was with, that he just finished spitting out the bones of.'

'Excuse me,' snapped the Prince, no idea what was being said, 'but it might help if we continued in the common tongue—'

Threetrees ignored him and carried on in Northern. 'He's going to pull your army into little bits. Then he's going to squash 'em one by one. You think he's going south, so he hopes your Marshal Burr will send some men south. He'll catch 'em napping on his way back north, and if they're few enough he'll cut 'em to pieces like he did those others.'

'Then,' rumbled Tul, 'when all your pretty soldiers are stuck back in the mud or run back across the water…'

'He'll crack the towns open like nuts in winter, no rush, and his Carls will make free with the contents.' Dow sucked his teeth, staring across at the girl. Staring like a mean dog might stare at a side of bacon. She stared right back, which was much to her credit, the Dogman thought. He doubted he'd have had the bones to do the same in her position.