And just like that, the warm friendly atmosphere vanished.

Joe didn’t answer. Milla had told him how hard it used to be, for anyone who wasn’t Norlander. She’d said the old days had been unfair and unequal.

‘Not this shambles we all saw yesterday,’ Yannic went on. ‘A woman can’t be a general – we all saw her fail to restore calm.’

‘That was my fault, not my sister’s!’ Joe felt hot and squirmed uncomfortably on the hard bench. Everything took on a sinister light now he knew he didn’t belong. Exactly what were they doing here? What were they planning? 61

‘Not so,’ Asa growled.

Joe waited. What would they do, now they knew who he was, now they knew he was only a – what had Noah said? – a halfie? Now Joe thought of him, Noah did sound a bit like the Brotherhood, always going on about the old days and how important Norlanders were.

‘You had the courage to speak up,’ Asa said to Joe. ‘Then and now.’ He paused a beat. ‘We value that skill.’

Hardly listening any more, Joe looked around the room, trying to work out how he could escape. The back window would be his best route. He’d only have to get past more than a hundred people who had reason to resent him, first.

Asa was watching him, his blue eyes glittering in the lamplight. ‘Right, that’s enough for your first visit.’

Joe felt trapped in that gaze. What were they going to do with him?

‘We’ll only bore you, with our reminiscing,’ Asa said smoothly. ‘You don’t want to hear old men talking about better days.’

Joe shivered. Better days? Better for whom? He hoped he looked less alarmed than he felt.

‘Leave us now.’ Asa’s tone changed, turned commanding. ‘But think about what we’ve said. We could use a lad like you in the Brotherhood.’

Joe’s head shot up, surprised. Use him how? Against his sister? How could they even think he might want to join them? Then he recalled how they’d watched him yesterday, at the ceremony. 62

They’d seen him at his worst and seen someone they wanted to work with.

While he was having these thoughts, he found himself hustled to the door. He half heard their muttered comments as he passed:

‘Why they letting him go?’

‘Better use if he’s willing.’

‘You sure that’s the one?’

Then the guards returned his knife and bundled him into the street.

Joe tripped and fell hard, grazing the burns on his hands so they seeped blood and a pale ooze which he wiped on his half-dried clothes. Alone again. He didn’t belong here. He didn’t belong anywhere. He was a fool to have thought anything else, lulled by good food and strong ale.

He was engulfed by a wave of exhaustion, and it was hard to think through the pain in his hands.

There was only one place he could go now.

Joe got up and limped through the streets, till he found one he recognised. He took a long route to be sure he wasn’t followed and slowly wobbled his way back towards the cave.