Vonn looked to him, the young warrior’s face all dark pools of shadow and flickering torchlight. Together they shouldered the bar from the gates and pushed them open.

Brogan’s grinning face greeted them, standing at the head of fifteen warriors, Drust amongst them.

Camlin held a finger to his lips and led them into the hold.

Between scaling the wall and killing the gate guards true dawn had arrived, and now buildings were materializing out of the uniform shadow. The men moved methodically, checking the buildings as they went. All were empty apart from one – a naked man and woman wrapped around one another in a cot.

Wife or whore? Probably whore, as there seem to be no families here, no bairns or other women, no signs of permanent settlement.

The man was snoring. A helmet and leather cuirass hung over the end of the bed, scabbarded sword leaning against a chair. His eyes flickered open and he opened his mouth to cry out but Camlin’s sword-point at his throat silenced him.

Kill him, move on. Time is short.

Camlin drew his arm back, tensed for the killing thrust, the warrior on the bed frozen. Yet he hesitated.

For a moment he felt as if he was back in Braith’s crew, knew he would have cut the warrior’s throat without a second thought.

I’m not that man now.

The door creaked and Vonn entered, eyes moving from Camlin to the two upon the bed.

The moment stretched.

‘Bind them,’ Camlin said, holding his sword ready as Vonn tore strips from the warrior’s cloak and bound and gagged the two on the bed.

They moved on, past a small smithy and a stable; beyond them was the tower that the fortification was built around. An open space ringed the tower and Camlin stopped in the shadows of the stable, gestured to Drust and the others to do the same, then nocked an arrow and waited.

It only took a few moments for the tower doors to swing open, revealing a small feast-hall. Warriors emerged, three of them, others clustered behind. Camlin’s first arrow hit one through the eye and he collapsed bonelessly; his second arrow punched into a warrior high in his chest, piercing leather vest and woollen shirt beneath, sending him stumbling back into someone behind. Others came out, shields raised. Camlin sent another arrow into an exposed thigh. Another dinged off an iron helm, the man staggering, and then Drust’s men were amongst them. Camlin dropped his bow and drew his sword.