Dogman faked a nasty limp as he walked over, dragging one leg behind him and wincing like he was in pain. He shuffled under the lamp, dangling on its high pole with the warning bell beside it, and held up the jar so they could all see.

The old man grinned, and leaned his spear against the wall. 'Always cold, down by the water.' He came up, rubbing his hands together. 'Just as well we got you to keep us warm, eh?'

'Aye. Good luck all round.' Dogman pulled out the stopper and let it dangle, lifted one of the mugs and poured out a slosh.

'No need to be shy, eh, lad?'

'I guess there ain't at that.' Dogman sloshed out some more. The man with one arm had to set his spear down when he got handed his mug. The boy came up last, and looked Dogman over, wary.

The old one nudged him with an elbow. 'You sure your mother'd care for you drinking, boy?'

'Who cares what she'd say?' he growled, trying to make his high voice sound gruff.

Dogman handed him a mug. 'You're old enough to hold a spear, you're old enough to hold a cup, I reckon.'

'I'm old enough!' he snapped, snatching it out o' Dogman's hand, but he shuddered when he drank from it. Dogman remembered his first drink, feeling mighty sick and wondering what all the fuss was about, and he smiled to himself. The boy thought he was being laughed at, most likely. 'Who are you anyway?'

The old boy tutted. 'Don't mind him. He's still young enough to think that rudeness wins respect.'

''S alright,' said Dogman, pouring himself a mug then setting the jar down on the stones, taking time to think out what to say, make sure he didn't make no mistakes. 'My name's Cregg.' He'd known a man called Cregg once, got killed in a scrap up in the hills. Dogman hadn't liked him much, and he'd no idea why that name came to mind, but one was about as good as another right then, he reckoned. He slapped his thigh. 'Got poked in the leg up at Dunbrec and it ain't healed right. Can't march no more. Reckon my days at holding a line are over, so my chief sent me down here, to watch the water with you lot.' He looked out at the sea, flapping and sparkling under the moon like a thing alive. 'Can't say I'm too sorry about it, though. Being honest, I had a skin full o' fighting.' That last bit was no lie, at least.

'Know how you feel,' said One-Arm, waving his stump in Dogman's face. 'How're things up there?'

'Alright. Union are still sat outside their own walls, trying everything to get in, and we're on the other side o' the river, waiting for 'em. Been that way for weeks.'

'I heard some boys have gone over to the Union. I heard old Threetrees was up there, got killed in that battle.'