‘You’re welcome,’ Farrell said. He unslung his war-hammer and placed it on the ground beside him, patting its iron head lovingly, a habit that Cywen had noticed he did almost every evening. Farrell had taken to spending his nights with them – Dath was always out scouting, and Corban was permanently busy.

It’s funny how we all group together – the Benothi giants are always together, the Jehar, though they seem to be in two camps – Tukul’s lot, and those who rode with Nathair, led now by Akar. And us, a small remnant of Ardan. Perhaps Farrell takes some comfort in being around us – we are as close to home as he can find in this patchwork warband.

Pages passed and Cywen turned them quicker, until about halfway through the book something changed. A new hand took over the writing, for one thing, the runes taking on an elegant flow. Also diagrams started appearing, strange designs, and the giant runes changed from flowing sentences into something more fitful, appearing almost like lists. Cywen saw the giantish word for blood – fuil – and further down the page namhaid.

She felt her eyes drawn to the pages, almost as if she was sinking into them.

‘What does namhaid mean? Is it enemy?’

‘Hey,’ Brina snapped, making her jump. ‘I told you not to go so far.’ Brina snatched the book back. Cywen held on a moment, then thought better of it and let go.

‘What’s wrong with looking at that part?’ she muttered.

‘First of all, because I told you not to,’ Brina said acerbically, ‘and secondly, I don’t say things without good reason. I’m too old to start wasting my breath.’ She scowled at Cywen.

‘Too old,’ Craf muttered.

Brina’s scowl gravitated to Craf.

‘Sorry,’ Cywen and Craf said together.

‘Apology accepted. Just don’t do it again.’

‘I won’t,’ Cywen said. Not when you’re sitting right next to me, anyway. She was already desperate to have another look.

‘Is that Vonn’s book?’ Farrell asked. ‘The one he took from his da?’

‘It is,’ Brina said curtly.

‘Can I have a look at it?’ Farrell asked.

‘What, with your big sausage-fingers. Absolutely not,’ Brina snapped.

‘All right,’ Farrell muttered. He sounded hurt. Cywen caught him snatching a glance at his hand. He wiggled his fingers.