‘My old mam used to say that,’ Tahir muttered, looking into his empty cup.

‘Please go with him,’ Haelan said. ‘I want you to go. Swain is my friend. I’ve never had a friend before. Not a real one.’

Tahir turned his gaze upon Haelan.

‘Neither of you understand,’ he said. ‘I swore an oath. To Maquin and Orgull, my sword-brothers. We were the last of the Gadrai, we three. Now I am the last. To leave you here, go off on a task that risks me never coming back . . .’ His shoulders slumped. ‘I’m not afraid,’ he growled, ‘in fact, I like the idea. It’s suicidal enough to earn its own song. But to break my oath when there is no one left to take it up for me.’ He shook his head.

‘You’d not be breaking it,’ Haelan assured him. ‘I’m safe as I can ever be here, whether you’re here or not. I don’t mean any insult, Tahir. I saw your bravery, on the walls of Dun Kellen. I saw you, Orgull and Maquin keep Jael’s men from taking the walls, time after time. But you are one man. If trouble comes here, Gramm has warriors aplenty. You would make little difference.’

‘Nicely said.’ Tahir’s lips twisted in a brief smile. ‘But you are wrong. Every man here serves Gramm as his lord, has given their oaths to him. Gramm would be their first priority. Whereas me, I swore an oath to protect you; not Gramm, or Wulf, or any other soul living in these Banished Lands. You. And I would give my life to do it. Can any other say such a thing?’

Haelan was moved by Tahir’s words.

‘Will you be my shieldman when I am king?’ Haelan asked.

Tahir smiled. ‘Aye, lad, if we get that far, I’ll be your shieldman.’

‘Do you mean that, or are you just humouring a bairn?’

Tahir looked at him seriously. ‘I mean that, Haelan.’

‘Then swear it now. I’m likely to die, I know. Probably before I see my twelfth nameday. But just in case.’ He shrugged.

Tahir regarded him a good long while. ‘Do you know what is involved? It’s not just words. Blood seals it,’ he eventually said.

‘I’ve seen many an oath sworn to my mam and uncle. I know my part,’ Haelan said. He felt a lot older than his eleven years, suddenly.

‘We would need a witness.’

‘Wulf could bear witness.’

‘Aye,’ Wulf agreed. ‘An oath is no small thing,’ he added.

The silence stretched again.

‘I’ll give you my oath,’ Tahir said and drew a knife from his belt, laid it on the table between them. ‘Wulf, will you say the words?’

‘Aye, if you’re sure.’

‘I am.’

‘Tahir, will you bind yourself to Haelan ben Romar, become his sword and shield, the defender of his flesh, his blood, his honour, unto death?’