'Faithless, me?' Dow snorted as he came on slow down the steps, one at a time. 'I'm a dark bastard, aye, I know what I am. But I'm nothing to you. I know my friends from my enemies. I never killed my own. Bethod was right about one thing, Bloody-Nine. You're made of death. If I can put an end to you, d'you know what? That'll be the best thing I've done in my life.'

'That all?'

Dow showed his teeth. 'That, and I'm just plain sick o' taking your fucking say-so.'

He came on fast as a snake, axe swinging over, sword flashing across waist high. Logen dodged the axe, met the blade with his own, metal clanging on metal. Dow caught him in his sore ribs with his knee and sent him gasping back towards the wall, then came at him again, blades leaving bright traces in the darkness. Logen sprang out of the way, rolled and came up, strutting out into the middle of the hall again, sword hanging loose from his hand.

'That it?' he asked, smiling through the pain in his side.

'Just getting the blood flowing.'

Dow leaped forward, made to go right and came left instead, sword and axe sweeping down together. Logen saw them coming, weaved away from the axe, turned the sword off his own and stepped in, growling. Dow jerked back as the Maker's blade hissed through the air right in front of his face, stumbled away a step or two. His eye twitched, some red leaking down his cheek from a nick just under it. Logen grinned, spun the grip of his sword round in his hand. 'Blood's flowing now, eh?'

'Aye.' Dow gave a grin of his own. 'Just like old times.'

'I should've killed you then.'

'Damn right you should've.' Dow circled round him, always moving, weapons gleaming in the cold light from the tall windows. 'But you love to play the good man, don't you? Do you know what's worse than a villain? A villain who thinks he's a hero. A man like that, there's nothing he won't do, and he'll always find himself an excuse. We've had one ruthless bastard make himself King o' the North, and I'll be damned before I see a worse.' He feinted forward and Logen jerked back.

He heard the click of Calder's flatbow again and saw the bolt flash right between them. Dow scowled over at him. 'You trying to kill me? You loose another bolt and you're spitted, you hear?'

'Stop pissing around and kill him, then!' snapped Calder, cranking away at his flatbow.

'Kill him!' bellowed Scale, from somewhere in the shadows.