She leaned in close to him and he caught a whiff of lavender and sage. When she spoke, her voice was little more than a whisper.

‘Hear me, Lannigon Fetlanger, and mark my words well. One day, not too far from now, you will see a star with a serpent’s tail. Beware that moment. Run when you see that heavenly sign. Run for all you are worth. And trust your instincts on where to find safety, or those three years will never come to pass.’ She held his gaze for an instant longer, then turned, pulling the hood of her cape up over her head and sweeping out of the house into the rain and wind before he had a chance to ask her what she had meant.

The boy watched her leave; she strode past the smoking elm tree without giving it so much as a second glance.

Gord Fetlanger never recovered from his wife’s death; the following months saw him reduced to a shadow of his former self. He took to sitting about the farmhouse, staring into space and disregarding his work. Even when a wolf pack came on to his lands and killed some of his cattle, Gord could not be persuaded to set off in pursuit of the beasts. Instead, it was the young Fetlanger who joined Orlof, the head cattleman, and the others, camping out overnight in the cold and the rain in an effort to kill the predators.

Lann and his father had never been close, but now it seemed the boy could do no right in his father’s eyes, and when the pair were together in the house, the older man would ignore him completely, even leaving the room when the youngster entered. He drank more and more, the alcohol causing wild mood swings. Silent apathy would give way to fury in which he would tear the farmhouse apart, resisting Lann’s efforts to calm him down. ‘My wife and son are dead!’ he would howl. The boy knew better than to answer back when he was like this. But the words stung, and Lann wanted nothing more than to point out that he was still alive, that he was missing his mother and that he was in need of a father, now more than ever.

Two months after Lae’s death, things finally came to a head. His father, drunk on strong spirits, sat by the fire all day staring into the flames. Lann went about his chores as he did every evening, and when he’d finished, announced he was off to bed.

‘Wait,’ Gord muttered. He gestured for Lann to come over to him.

Lann did as he was bid and walked over to where his father sat, slumped by the fire. Gord said nothing, but there was an odd look in his eyes as he glowered back up at the boy.

‘What is it, Father?’ Lann asked.