'I'm working at it, pig.' Dow jerked his head at the two Carls by the door. 'You two going to pitch in or what?' They looked at each other, none too keen. Then they came forward into the hall, their round shields up, their eyes on Logen, herding him towards one corner.

Logen bared his teeth as he backed off. 'That's how you'll get it done, is it?'

'I'd rather kill you fair. But kill you crooked?' Dow shrugged his shoulders. 'Just as good. I ain't in the business o' giving chances. Go on then! At him!'

The two of them closed in, cautious, Dow moving off to the side. Logen scrambled back, trying to look scared and waiting for some kind of chance. It wasn't long coming. One of the Carls stepped a touch too close, let his shield drop low. He chose a bad moment to raise his axe and a bad way to do it. There was a click as the Maker's sword took his forearm off, left it hanging from his elbow by a scrap of chain-mail. He stumbled forward, dragging in a great wheezing breath, making ready to scream, blood spurting out of the stump of his arm and splattering on the boards. Logen chopped a great gash out of his helmet and he dropped down on his knees.

'Gwarghh…' he muttered, blood pouring down the side of his face. His eyes rolled up to the ceiling and he flopped on his side. The other Carl jumped over his body, roaring at the top of his lungs. Logen caught his sword, their blades scraping together, then he barged into the man's shield with his shoulder, sent him sprawling on his arse. He gave a wail, the Carl, one boot sticking up. Logen swung the Maker's sword down and split that foot in half up to his ankle.

Quick footsteps came up under the Carl's shriek. Logen spun, saw Black Dow charging at him, face crushed up into a killing grin.

'Die!' he hissed. Logen lurched away, the blade just missing him on one side, the axe on the other. He tried to swing the Maker's sword but Dow was too quick and too clever, shoved Logen back with his boot and sent him staggering.

'Die, Bloody-Nine!' Logen dodged, parried, stumbled as Dow came on again, no pauses and no mercy. Steel glinted in the darkness, blades lashing, killing blows, every one.

'Die, you evil fucker!' Dow's sword chopped down and Logen only just brought his own round in time to block it. The axe came out of nowhere, up from underneath, clattered into the crosspiece and tore Logen's blade spinning from his numb hand. He wobbled back a couple of strides and stood, heaving in air, sweat tickling at his neck.