They had rowed or poled their way deeper and deeper into the marshes, long after all sounds of Morcant’s pursuit had faded, eventually grouping together in this reed bank. Camlin groaned as he moved. His neck wasn’t the only part of him that ached. He scratched at a lump on his neck, and another, then looked at the back of his hand, saw more red bite marks trailing up his arm. I’ve been dinner for a warband of mosquitoes.

‘Don’t recommend sleeping in a boat,’ he muttered.

Edana stirred and Baird opened his one good eye. Instantly he was awake, sitting up, hand straying to his sword hilt. Brogan let out a snore as loud as a horse and Baird kicked him. He sat up too quickly, the boat almost tipping.

‘Morning,’ he said with a grin as he scratched his arse.

They gathered on the marsh bank.

Three men had died in the escape from the village. A few were wounded, though nothing seemed imminently fatal.

‘So where is this Dun Crin?’ Roisin said, looking between Edana and Camlin.

‘I don’t know,’ Edana said.

‘A giants’ fortress, how can you not know where it is?’ Roisin snapped.

Apparently a night spent sleeping rough in a boat in the marshes doesn’t improve her mood.

‘This whole marshland covers an area of fifty leagues or more, and the fortress is rumoured a ruin. Who knows what little is left of it. But Eremon received word that a resistance has taken root here, and what we saw and heard from Morcant would confirm that. They must be here somewhere.’

‘So your plan is to row around these stinking marshes until we bump into them?’

Y e s , thought Camlin, though that’s not the most diplomatic answer, right now.

Edana stared at Roisin for a few moments, their gazes locked. ‘Yes,’ she said.

Oh dear. Even princesses have an end to their patience.

‘I can’t believe what I’m hearing.’

‘If you don’t like it you can always go back to Domhain. Or back to your ship.’

Looks as if Edana isn’t so polite after a night as food for mosquitoes, either. Camlin tried not to laugh, but he could see ripples of anger flickering through their group, Cian and some other of Roisin’s shieldmen. Not a good sign. They’re obviously not used to hearing their Queen spoken to like this. I’ve seen men start putting knives into each other for little more reason than that they were tired and hungry. This could all turn ugly right quick.

Camlin was still trying to think of something to defuse the situation when Lorcan broke the sullen silence.

‘No point squabbling,’ he said. ‘We should be rejoicing in our glorious escape from Rhin’s henchmen. And I must say that to hear my two favourite ladies exchange such harsh words is almost more than I can bear.’