Pax was standing to one side, watching. He looked almost as pale as the man with the broken arm. Cywen swayed as the ship rode another swell, the one huge sail tight and snapping in the wind. They’d been at sea for two days now, early the first day leaving the sluggish marsh river behind and entering a wide bay that they’d continued to row through, the sea tame and relatively docile. The second day they had rowed into open sea, skirting the coast. A strong wind had almost immediately caught them and Dath had yelled for their sail to be unfurled. The wind had freed them all from the oar-benches, at first everyone relieved and thankful, but after half a day on the open sea over a score of people had lined the ship’s rails, vomiting into the slate-grey and foam-speckled waves. Cywen had been one of them. She’d sailed across the straits between Ardan and Domhain with no problem, but this sea was another beast entirely, as different as a wild horse from one broken to ride. She’d hardly seen Dath as he hadn’t left his post on deck since they’d left the wide-mouthed river estuary and entered the sea. Fortunately a good dozen of the oarsmen had worked on a ship’s crew before, and so Cywen was vaguely confident that they had the skill required to avoid sinking by incompetence. That was something.

‘Come on, then,’ Brina said, appearing suddenly and squatting down beside Gorsedd, one hand on his shoulder, the other about his elbow. She looked into Cywen’s eyes.

‘You ready for this?’

More than he is, Cywen thought. She took a deep breath and nodded, then wound a leather cord around Gorsedd’s wrist. She gritted her teeth and pulled.

Gorsedd screamed.

No amount of poppy milk can dull that pain.

The bone sank back into flesh, like a shattered ship sinking into the sea. Why am I thinking of ships sinking. Cywen tugged harder, waiting for the click that Brina had told her would signal that it had settled back into its proper place. Sweat dripped into her eyes. She glanced up at Brina, willing her to say that it was done.

Brina didn’t, just held on to Gorsedd’s elbow.

The leather cord slipped in Cywen’s hand, the bone poking through flesh again.

‘Rest a moment,’ Brina said. ‘Dry your hands. Try again.’

Cywen released the cord as gently as she could, Gorsedd howling, eyes rolling.

‘You could lend a hand, as you’ve time to stand around watching,’ Brina snapped at Pax. He winced but nodded, looking more scared of Brina than the blood and bone oozing from the injured man’s arm.

‘Can I help?’ a grating voice said above and behind. The giantling Laith looked curiously over her shoulder at the wound. Buddai wagged his tail at Laith’s voice, though he seemed to otherwise still be asleep.