Everything was still. The world had stopped reeling. Spots of snow filtered gently down into the clearing, settling across the wet earth, the scattered gear, the stretched-out bodies, and the men still standing. Tul was not far away, staring at him. Threetrees was behind, sword in hand. Pike's pink slab of a face had something close to a wince on it, one bloody fist squeezed round his arm. They were all looking. All looking at him. Dow raised his hand, pointing at West. He tipped his head back and started to laugh. 'You bit him! You bit his fucking nose off! I knew you were a mad bastard!'

West stared at them. The thumping in his head was starting to subside. 'What?' he muttered. There was blood all over him. He wiped his mouth. Salty. He looked at the nearest corpse, face down on the earth. Blood was trickling from underneath its head, running down the slope and pooling around West's boot. He remembered… something. A sudden cramp in his guts bent him over, spitting pink onto the ground, empty stomach heaving.

'Furious!' shouted Dow. 'That's what y'are!'

Grim had already stepped out of the bushes, bow over his shoulder, and was squatting down, dragging a bloody fur from one of the corpses. 'Good coat,' he muttered to himself.

West watched them all pick over the campsite, bent over and sick and utterly spent. He listened to Dow laughing. 'Furious!' cackled his harsh voice. 'That's what I'll call you!'

'They got arrows over here.' The Dogman pulled something out of one of the packs on the ground, and grinned. 'And cheese. Bit dusty.' He picked some mould off the wedge of yellow with his dirty fingers, bit into it, and grinned. 'Still good though.'

'Lots o' good stuff,' nodded Threetrees, starting to smile himself. 'And we're all still going, more or less. Good day's work, lads.' He slapped Tul on the back. 'We'd best head on north quick before these lot are missed. Let's get what there is fast and pick up those other two.'

West's mind was only just starting to move again. 'The others!'

'Alright,' said Threetrees, 'you and Dow check on them… Furious.' He turned away with half a smile.

West lurched off through the trees the way he'd come, slipping and sliding in his haste, blood pulsing again. 'Protect the Prince,' he muttered to himself. He waded across the stream almost without noticing the cold, struggled onto the far bank and back uphill, hurrying towards the cliff where they had left the others.