Logen felt the eyes of the group all fixed on him. 'Few years later I nearly killed my father. Stabbed him while we were eating. Don't know why. Don't know why at all. He healed, luckily.'

He felt Longfoot easing nervously away, and he hardly blamed him. 'That was when the Shanka started coming more often. So my father sent me south, over the mountains, to look for help. So I found Bethod, and he offered me help if I'd fight for him. I was happy to do it, fool that I was, but the fighting went on, and on. The things I did in those wars… the things they told me I did.' He took a long breath. 'Well. I'd killed friends. You should have seen what I did to enemies. To begin with I enjoyed it. I loved to sit at the top of the fire, to look at men and see their fear, to have no man dare to meet my eye, but it got worse. And worse. There came one winter that I didn't know who I was, or what I was doing most of the time. Sometimes I'd see it happening, but I couldn't change it. No one knew who I'd kill next. They were all shitting themselves, even Bethod, and no one more scared of me than I was.'

They all sat for a while in gaping silence. The ruined building had been seeming like some kind of comfort after all that dead and empty space on the plain, but it didn't any more. The empty windows yawned like wounds. The empty doorways gaped like graves. The silence dragged on, and on, and then Longfoot cleared his throat. 'So, for the sake of argument, do you think it's possible that, perhaps without intending to, you might kill one of us?'

'It's more likely I'd kill all of you than one.'

Bayaz was frowning. 'Forgive me if I feel less than entirely reassured.'

'I wish at least that you had mentioned this earlier!' snapped Longfoot. 'It is the type of information a travelling companion should share! I hardly think that—'

'Leave him be,' growled Ferro.

'But we need to know—'

'Shut your mouth, stargazing fool. You're all a long way from perfect.' She scowled over at Longfoot. 'Some of you make a lot of words and are nowhere near when the trouble starts.' She frowned at Luthar. 'Some of you are a lot less use than you think you are.' She glared at Bayaz. 'And some of you keep a lot of secrets, then fall asleep at bad times and leave the rest of us stranded in the middle of nowhere. So he's a killer. So fucking what? Suited you well enough when the killing needed doing.'

'I only wanted to—'

'Shut your mouth, I said. 'Longfoot blinked for a moment, then did as he was told.