Camlin sucked in a breath, biting back an angry response. ‘You’re not understanding,’ he said slowly. ‘Morcant will use that silver to bribe the villages surrounding these marshes. I heard him say as much. No matter how loyal a soul, there’s not many that’ll choose torture closely followed by death over a bag of silver. Even if no one knows your whereabouts now, once the population around here gets a sniff of that silver there’ll be eyes on you, searching for you. It’ll only be a matter of time before Dun Crin is betrayed. Eventually someone somewhere will offer to guide him and a lot of sharp iron to Dun Crin – it’s just too much silver. If we don’t find and take it from him, you and all your men are dead. Just not yet, that’s all.’

Drust frowned at him, the silence growing.

‘We don’t know these marshes well enough. We’re as likely to get lost as find this chest of silver.’

‘I might have a solution to that.’ Camlin looked around the edge of the courtyard. ‘Meg,’ he shouted. There was a silence, then a shadow emerged from a building, Meg stepping into the sunlight.

Least she’s got the manners to look guilty.

‘Thought you might follow us,’ Camlin said.

Drust scowled.

‘She’s only a bairn, but she’s also part water rat. No chance of Morcant or his lads ever catching her. And she knows the marshland. Ready-made guide.’

Drust thought some more, scratched his beard, blue eyes narrowed.

‘You need to take that silver,’ Camlin said. ‘It’s self-preservation.’

‘Think you might be right,’ the ageing warrior said, frowning down at Meg. ‘All right then. We’ll follow your marsh rat.’ He gripped Camlin’s arm before he could stride away. ‘Pendathran told me what you were – a brigand from the Darkwood. Edana may be convinced of your worth, but I’m not. I’ve bitten too many rotten apples in my time. I’ll be watching you.’

‘Didn’t expect anything different,’ Camlin said. He pulled his arm free and walked away.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

HAELAN

Haelan gripped the boulder and heaved, wobbling as he stood upright, almost toppling back into the stream that the boulder had been hauled from. He looked into the meadow, at the piles of rock spaced around it at regular intervals. He took a deep breath and started into the meadow, Pots running circles around him, enjoying the game.

It’s all right for you. You’re not carrying a rock.

Pots seemed to have adopted Haelan since he had saved the dog from the rat. Haelan was puffing and panting when he reached the pile of rocks and dumped his on the top. His hands throbbed and upon inspection he found three blisters.