'That's my winter covering,' argued Gryffe. 'Protects me from the cold. Like a bear.'

'Aye, well, it is spring now,' she told him, 'and time for bears to wake up.' She walked out into the kitchen. Bane settled back in his chair.

'What's been happening?' he asked.

'Ah, we'll talk in the morning,' said Gryffe. 'You'll be in no mood for all the boring details now.'

'Bore me,' said Bane.

Iswain returned with more broth. Bane took it, ate a few spoonfuls, then looked at Gryffe. 'Talk to me,' he said.

Gryffe swore, then glanced up at Iswain. 'The man asked you a question,' she said.

'Lorca and his gang came out of the forest three days ago and drove away twenty steers and a good old bull. Boile and Cascor tried to stop them, reminding them of the agreement they had with you. Lorca said he was renegotiating that agreement. Cascor tried to argue. Lorca accused him of disloyalty – and they killed him.'

Bane finished the broth, then laid aside the wooden dish. 'I'll find Lorca tomorrow,' he said.

'He has more than seventy men with him now. I think that's why he needed the extra beef. It might be wiser to let it pass.'

'The beef I can afford to lose,' said Bane. 'But no-one comes to my home and kills one of my men without facing the consequences.'

Grale sat quietly in the doorway of the roughly built roundhouse, listening to the arguments among the group of men squatting by the central fire. He had not been with Lorca's band long enough to have a say in the debate. Asha, one of the camp's three whores, came and sat next to him. Her dark hair was matted and filthy, her clothes ingrained with dirt. 'You look in need of a little company,' she said. He looked into her dark brown eyes. They were lifeless.

'That is kind of you. Maybe later.'

'If you have no coin you can pay me another time – after a raid.'

He turned towards her. 'Come back in a little while, dearheart,' he said. 'Once the sun is down.'

She moved away. Grale rubbed at the empty socket of his left eye. Sometimes it still pained him, and he would wake at night, stifling a scream as he recalled the druid cutting free the mutilated orb and sewing shut the lids.

'We don't need Bane,' he heard Lorca say. 'It is not as if he is popular among the Rigante. We could move on the farm, gather the herds and drive them to Pannone land. There has been starvation there, and beef prices are higher than ever before.'