‘My da used to tell me, don’t hit if you can help it, but if you have to, hit fast, and hit hard.’ Corban saw a grin split Gar’s face and he heard Cywen grunt. They remember him saying that, too.

‘That makes sense,’ Meical agreed. ‘But how? Ride straight at them? Many will likely be lost.’

‘I’ve had a few thoughts about that.’ Corban said. ‘I think I have an idea.’

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CAMLIN

Camlin peered through a crack in the roundhouse’s shutters, loosely holding his bow and a nocked arrow. The sound of hooves was growing louder. He swore quietly.

I wanted them to ride around. Why the hell do they want to come back to this stinking hole? And he didn’t mean that metaphorically. The roundhouse stank of death, flies buzzing in lazy circles around half a dozen corpses of villagers who had obviously sought refuge there. He’d had a superficial look around, wondering why Rhin’s warriors had been in here, but a quick glance had revealed little, and the sound of hooves bearing down upon them outside hadn’t helped his concentration. When the news of riders approaching had reached them, Edana had looked to Camlin. He’d been frozen for a moment, conflicting interests warring in his brain, then ordered them all into the roundhouse, pausing a few moments to unclasp a few of the black and gold cloaks from Rhin’s fallen warriors.

Once upon a time it would have been a simple decision – prepare for an ambush, use the buildings around the town square. Spread our swords. If it came to it, kill and run. Regroup at an appointed spot.

Now, though, he had twenty-six lives other than his own to think of. That included a deposed king and queen and an eight-year-old girl. Meg, the bairn they’d found hiding in the stables, was sitting by his leg. She didn’t talk much, but every time he moved she moved with him, straying no further from him than his shadow.

He frowned as he glanced down at her now.

The shutters started to shake, the drumming of hooves becoming deafening.

There’s a lot of them. Just gets better.

So his plan had been to stick together and hide. Hide and hope they passed through.

He looked over his shoulder, saw pale, serious faces staring back at him. Roisin stood at the back of the hall, a dozen of her shieldmen tight about her. Lorcan was close to them, sitting on a blanket-covered chest, his feet dangling. He glimpsed Vonn and Baird, backs bent, digging at the wattle and daub wall with spear and sword. Always need an escape route. If they find us . . .

We’ll deal with that if it happens.

He peered through the crack in the shutter again. It was sunset, the sky was a wash of pink and orange clouds, shadows long and wide. That’s in our favour, at least.