‘A pox on this. I’m wet, I’m cold, I’ve had enough of this wretched wood for one night. Will you come back with me? Please?’ I held out a hand toward him. He stood there looking at me, like a big shambling bear that had lost its way. ‘I don’t beg,’ I said. ‘I do have my limits.’

‘Thing is,’ Grim said, sounding more like himself, ‘you don’t need me. You don’t need anyone. Told me that early on. You like living on your own. Hoped if I made myself useful you might change your ways. Foolish. Wise woman and all, of course you don’t want a lump like me around. Didn’t take the hint. That’s why they call me Bonehead.’

‘Bollocks. Stop being sorry for yourself. You know quite well you’re capable at so many jobs everyone in Winterfalls wants to hire you. You can’t be blind to the way folk warm to you. They trust you. They trust you to do a good job, an honest job. Nobody around here’s calling you Bonehead or anything else of that nature.’

‘A man did, in the prince’s house. I bashed his head on a table and nearly killed him. Get a red rage sometimes. Makes me do bad things. If you knew –’

‘Enough! I’ve got enough ill deeds in my own past to fill a book. And now’s not the time or the place for you to tell me about yours.’ I struggled for the right words. ‘Listen, Grim. Yes, it’s true that when we met up, after Mathuin’s lockup, I let you come with me because of my promise to Conmael. You didn’t ask me for help any more than that dog did tonight. But cries for help don’t always come in words. I knew what I had to do, and I did it.’

He stood silent. His stance screamed, I knew it. I knew you didn’t want me.