Having been witness to previous sessions, Jehar, giants and off-duty oarsmen scattered from the rear half of the deck. Coralen had not taken to knife-throwing like the natural she’d expected to be. From the corner of her eye she saw Javed lean against the ship’s rail to watch them.

She took aim, setting her feet as Cywen had taught her, bringing the blade back to her ear, then—

A sword slammed into the wooden outline, almost exactly where Coralen had been aiming.

‘Hah, Laith is getting better,’ a voice laughed from just behind her, deep and almost deafening her.

‘Stop boasting,’ Cywen said, smiling up at the giantling. Laith’s head was bandaged from the wound she’d received during the battle. It didn’t seem to dampen her enthusiasm, though.

‘I’m speaking truth,’ Laith said with a frown. ‘Look.’ She pointed at her handiwork. ‘And it’s not stuck, see,’ Laith said, bounding over to the sword and tugging it free. ‘Laith has been thinking,’ she said, puffing her chest out. ‘I listen to Cywen – skill not strength.’ She tapped the side of her head. ‘And a bigger blade.’

Despite herself, Coralen laughed, then shook her head. Laughing with a Benothi giantling; me, who rode with Rath and his giantkillers. How things change.

‘Where’d you get that sword?’ Cywen asked Laith.

‘From the dead,’ Laith replied. ‘They do not need them now.’

Coralen looked closer, saw that it was one of the short swords that the Vin Thalun favoured. The giantling lifted a leather coat to reveal another half-dozen of them secreted about her body.

Cywen shook her head, still smiling. She grasped it, testing its balance.

‘It’s weighted wrong,’ she said. ‘When we get to Drassil I’ll ask Farrell to make you something this size and weight, but balanced and weighted for throwing.’

Laith grinned. ‘I am a smith, too,’ she said, ‘but I’ve only made bigger things – wheels, axles for wains.’ She shrugged. ‘Will Farrell do it?’

‘If he says no to me, we can always get Coralen to ask him,’ Cywen said.

Coralen scowled at that, well aware of and unimpressed by the smith’s feelings for her.

‘Drassil?’ Javed said loudly. He sauntered closer. ‘Did you say Drassil?’

Cywen looked at him, frowning. They’d all forgotten he was there. She ignored him and turned away.

‘Hey,’ Javed said, reaching out and grabbing Cywen’s shoulder.

A huge hand clamped around Javed’s wrist and wrenched him off of Cywen.

‘You do not touch her,’ Laith said. Her playful, cheerful expression was gone, replaced by jutting brows and flat eyes. Javed’s face twitched and he exploded into movement, faster than Coralen could see. Javed’s free hand lashed out, his feet shifting, a flurry of movement, and then Laith was falling like a felled oak. She crashed to the timber deck, Javed crouched above her, a knife in his hand, hovering over the giant’s throat.