They were lying on a slope amidst long grass and wildflowers, staring at a palisaded tower that was built upon a low hill, a massive pyre of wood piled high about a hundred paces from the gates. The setting sun was hot upon their backs.

‘The wall’s not more’n two men high. Two or three of us with a lift over’ll get those gates open.’

‘Is that possible? There are men on the wall, at the gates. And how many more inside?’

I’ve done it before. Many times. The last time had been at a hold south of Dun Carreg. He’d been leading the crew then, as well. It had gone smoothly at first – over the wall and gates open. Then they’d been heard and blood had been spilt. He felt a flush of shame as he remembered the women and bairns.

Feels like a different life. A different man.

‘There’s not many left in there. Most of them rode out with Morcant.’

They’d caught up with the chest of silver yesterday, after almost a ten-night of tracking it, Meg leading them through a confusing network of waterways that edged the marshes. Unfortunately, when they caught up with the wain carrying the chest, it had been surrounded by Morcant and a convoy of over two hundred swords. When Morcant had stopped in the open and made camp for the night Camlin had considered attempting to snatch the chest, but there had just been too many guards and Drust had refused to commit his men. So they’d followed Morcant and his chest of silver the next day to this tower.

Camlin and the three of them had spent half the day creeping closer to the fortification. When the sun was a shield of fire shimmering above the Baglun the gates had opened, Morcant riding out at the head of at least two hundred warriors. They had headed east, the sound of their horses hooves fading like distant thunder.

‘We should strike just before dawn,’ Camlin said, looking at Drust.

The ageing warrior stared at Camlin. ‘I’ll not risk my men’s lives for nothing. You are sure the chest is in there?’

‘Aye. We saw it carried in there upon a wain, and it hasn’t come out. And Morcant just left with his warband. No wain.’

‘He’d have left men to guard it, though.’

‘Of course, but not many. I’ve counted six on this watch – there’ll be double that, then maybe a dozen others to keep the place running, no more’n that. Remember, Morcant’s a proud, arrogant bastard and the chest’s in his tower, behind a wall and a score of men. He doesn’t think anyone’d have the stones to try and take his silver.’

Drust smiled at that. ‘Put that way it’s a hard challenge to resist.’