Feet drummed at the doors, warriors strode in, half a dozen at least. They saw Camlin and his companions, froze a heartbeat or two and Camlin put an arrow through the first man’s throat. He fell back in a spray of blood, crashing into those behind him. Draw, breathe, release, and Camlin put another arrow into them. Then they were charging, calling to their comrades outside as they came.

Vonn was through the hole.

Camlin nocked, drew, released, another warrior stumbled to the ground, tripping others behind him.

One of Lorcan’s shieldmen shouted a battle-cry and ran at the warriors. He swung his sword two-handed, gutted the first man he reached, ploughed into the others shoulder first, sending them all staggering.

‘Come on,’ Vonn yelled through the hole.

‘Time to go,’ Camlin said to Lorcan, grabbing him by the shoulder and shoving him through.

‘You next, big man,’ Camlin told Brogan, at the same time drawing his bow and releasing. More warriors in black and gold were crowding through the roundhouse doors. Brogan grunted, stuck in the gap, as the barrel on his back wedged tight. Camlin took a step back and hurled himself at the warrior, both of them exploding through the wall. Camlin rolled on the ground, looked back, saw feet pounding towards them and caught a glimpse of the chest full of silver. He gave one last wistful look at it. Once upon a time . . . Then he was running. Vonn and Lorcan were just ahead of him, swerving between wattle-and-daub buildings, Brogan hard on his heels. Hooves were drumming, warriors yelling somewhere behind him, far too close for Camlin’s liking.

The river, find the river. It was near dark, a bluish tinge to the air as the sun faded. Camlin heard the sound of water, ran around a hut, stopped to yank open the gate of a pig pen and then ran on. There was a stampede of feet and squealing pigs, followed almost immediately by swearing, crashing, falling. Camlin grinned and then burst out of the village onto the riverbank.

The boats were tied along the bank, Roisin and Cian already in a canoe, a dozen others sat in boats, pushing away from the bank into the wide, sluggish river.

‘Lorcan,’ Roisin cried out when she saw her son, and he clambered in beside her.

Baird stood over Edana in a larger flat-bottomed boat, gesturing frantically to them. Then a hand was slipping into his, Meg, tugging him towards the boat. He didn’t need much encouragement, rushed to the riverbank and boarded.

Horses thundered along the bank, warriors yelling. Spears whistled past them, splashing and disappearing into the river. Close by someone screamed and fell from a boat.

‘Upriver, into the marshes,’ Camlin yelled as he saw a coracle with two warriors in it start to paddle downriver.

It’ll be faster going downriver, but they’ll track us with no problem. Only chance is to head into the marshes.