‘Shouldn’t we be going the other way, finding somewhere dark and small to sneak through?’ he asked, though part of him was glad that Trigg was leading him towards the gates, maybe the knowledge that this was all happening because of him, and the very least he could do was not hide from it.

Mam never hid from anything.

‘It’s madness at the gates, easier to slip through,’ Trigg hissed down at him. Then they were around the corner of the hall and looking at the gates.

They stood frozen for a moment, then Trigg gestured and they ducked behind the wheel of a wain, both of them peering through it at the scene before them.

Dark silhouettes of warriors strode the walkway on the wall, more of them appearing through thick smoke. One of the gate towers was on fire, flames crackling into the sky, clouds of smoke billowing across the courtyard. People were running, a chain of them passing buckets of water in an attempt to douse the flames. The gates were still closed and barred, though there were cracks in the thick timber and the bar across them was twisted and buckling. They shuddered at another impact. Warriors stood in a line before it, shields and spears ready.

Haelan saw Gramm on the wall, above the gates, bellowing, pointing with his axe-head. As Haelan watched he saw Gramm and a few others lift the cauldron hanging suspended over the fire and empty its steaming contents over the wall. Screams rang out. The crashing against the gate stopped.

There was a loud crack, and part of the flaming tower collapsed, charred wood tumbling into the courtyard, pinning someone beneath it. Their shrieks of pain made Haelan cover his ears.

Then something strange happened.

Everyone on the wall stopped moving.

They were staring, out beyond the wall. Then Gramm turned and bellowed.

‘GIANTS!’

There was a rumbling from beyond the gates, like the pounding of drums, marching, and then an unmistakable sound, one that Haelan had heard before, that day in the meadow close to Forn when he’d been helping to repair the wall. A roar, ear-splittingly loud, the vibration of it reverberating through his chest.

Something colossal crashed into the gates. The wood cracked, the bar bucking in its rests, hinges screaming protest. Gramm was yelling himself hoarse, throwing another spear over the wall, ordering the cauldron filled and back on its spit, shouting at a few huntsmen with their bows nocked to shoot faster.

Another impact on the gates. There was another crack as the bar bowed in its rests. In the courtyard before the gates warriors yelled and shuffled closer together, spear-points wavering.

Then the gates shattered, a huge explosion of splintered timber and iron, a cloud of dust and smoke blown into the courtyard, smothering everything, billowing as far as the steps of the feast-hall.

Haelan covered his mouth, blinking. Beside him Pots growled.