‘I am a healer, which required that I also became scholar. There is much to learn, and more is written in the scrolls I have read than how to make a poultice or boil a herb.’ He shrugged.

‘So what did you say to them, that so convinced them to become such willing prisoners?’

Alben looked from Raina to Tain.

‘I told her that if she did not cooperate I would kill her son.’

Fidele blinked at that, then looked at him long and hard. He returned her gaze flatly, displaying no emotion.

I don’t believe you. She did not think the Alben she knew would resort to threats, but more than that, there appeared to be something between Alben and the giantess, not quite a familiarity, but they both seemed . . . comfortable with each other.

The door suddenly slammed open, Krelis bursting in, Ektor in his shadow. Raina and Tain leaped to their feet, Raina stepping in front of Tain.

Krelis looked from face to face, paused with his mouth open.

‘We’ve been looking for you,’ Ektor said to Fidele. ‘Marcellin is come.’

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

ULFILAS

The feast-hall of Dun-Kellen rang out with the clack of wooden swords. Ulfilas sat at a long table beside King Jael, who was leaning forward in his chair, head propped upon a fist. They were watching a pair of men swinging hard blows at one another. They were good: fast, strong, both veterans and evenly matched.

‘Are they better than you?’ Jael asked him.

Ulfilas shrugged. ‘Maybe. They are skilled, no doubt. Sword-crossing in practice is different from a real fight, though.’ In the sword-crossing ring not only do you have to win, but you have to make it look good. You can’t bite a nose off, or twist someone’s stones. In a real fight, though, all that counts is walking away alive.

It had been Maquin who had told him that, shieldman to Kastell, Jael’s cousin. He’d liked both of them, Maquin a little more than Kastell. They’d both been good men to share a cup of ale with. That hadn’t stopped him from standing by and doing nothing as Jael had put a sword through Kastell’s belly, though. Or made him feel bad about it.

We all choose the life we lead. We all know it’ll likely end in blood. Don’t see so many grey-haired warriors as you do smiths or tanners or fishermen.

‘Aye, that’s true. Perhaps I should take away their wooden toys and let them fight with iron.’

‘You’d end up with dead shieldmen, my King, and in these days good shieldmen that are sworn to you are better alive than dead.’

‘Huh,’ Jael grudgingly agreed. ‘I need a first-sword. Are you not tempted to enter?’

Ulfilas shrugged again. ‘If you wish me to, my King. I am happy as your shieldman and captain of your honour guard.’