Cywen smiled and Pax looked relieved. Brina explained to Laith what she had to do.

Laith gripped the cord and looked to Brina for the nod.

‘Don’t pull his arm off,’ Brina said. ‘Slow and steady.’

‘Slow and steady,’ Laith repeated. Then she pulled.

The bone disappeared, sliding smoothly back into the wound. Laith made it look as easy as stretching dough for bread.

‘You have to go further than the break,’ Brina said, ‘then it should slot into place. You’ll feel it.’

Laith’s face was knotted with concentration. She continued to pull, then she smiled.

‘I felt it,’ she said and let go of the cord.

Gorsedd sagged in their arms.

‘You know what to do,’ Brina said, then stood and walked away. Her hand was pressed tightly to her side, the outline of the giant book clear under her cloak.

Cywen frowned as she watched Brina leave, then groaning from Gorsedd drew her attention. She washed out the wound, drizzled it with honey, gave him some more poppy milk, then pulled out her fish-hook and thread ready to stitch the wound. She couldn’t hold his arm still for the rocking of the ship. She looked to Laith but she was playing with Buddai, completely oblivious to Cywen now.

She has a short attention span.

‘Here,’ said Pax, and he took Gorsedd’s arm.

Cywen began her work, stitching it loose to allow it to drain, then bandaging it. As she did, her eyes wandered to Pax. He was fine featured, high cheekbones on a tanned face, close-cropped hair and stubble for a beard. And bright blue eyes. There was something in them, a haunted look that seeped from them. Something niggled at Cywen about him. Something missing.

‘Where’s your warrior braid?’ Cywen asked him.

His eyes touched hers and then looked away.

‘Lykos cut it off.’ His hand rose to a ragged tail of hair.

‘Why?’ Cywen was horrified at the thought.

‘Did it to all of us on our first day at the oar-bench. Said we were less than men, let alone warriors. He gave me this, as well.’ He pulled up his linen sleeve and twisted to show her a circular lump of sliver flesh, a burn-scar. Part of it was scabbed and weeping a mixture of blood and pus. ‘His mark, to show me as his property.’

‘Why’s it bleeding?’

His face twisted, part shame, part embarrassment. ‘I tried to cut it off. I couldn’t; it hurt too much.’

Laith laughed at that from over with Buddai. ‘I am not surprised,’ she said, laughing some more.

This giant lacks any sense of sympathy.

Pax scowled.

‘Here, let me clean it for you.’ Cywen asked Laith to take Gorsedd to his cot.

‘After,’ she said. ‘I like your puppy.’