I like this girl. She will be a fine match for Corban, and they will have strong children. Well behaved, unlikely; wayward, perhaps; fiery and stubborn, definitely. He had said as much to her on their journey across Isiltir, but she had blushed as red as her hair and threatened to cut his tongue out with her wolven claws if he said such a thing to her again.

Fiery.

He smiled at the memory of it.

As soon as he’d seen the smoke rising from Gramm’s hold he’d known something was wrong. He had a hasty conversation with his sword-kin.

‘Do you want me to scout the hold out?’ Coralen had asked him.

‘That would be sensible,’ Enkara said.

‘Sensible be damned,’ Tukul said. ‘Gramm is my friend, and he may need help.’ He shrugged. ‘We will go and help him.’ He’d ordered the spare horses that they’d alternated riding across the length of Isiltir left in the pastures before Gramm’s hold, giving Shield a fond rub on the nose.

You’d make a good warhorse, my friend, but Daria and me, we know each other, like you and Corban, eh? So I shall ride her into battle, and she can tell you of her glory later. Shield had snorted at him and stamped a hoof.

And then Tukul was leaping into his saddle and kicking Daria into a ground-eating canter. Not a gallop, he didn’t want her blown if there was going to be a fight at the end of this last dash to the finish line.

They crested a rise in the road and saw the hold before them, black smoke billowing from the gate tower. From this distance Tukul could see figures on the wall, hear the blowing of horns, behind it all the faint din of battle. He thought of the last time he had been here, of Gramm’s friendship and hospitality, of learning to throw an axe and being gifted one by Wulf. He thought of Gramm’s huge laugh and crushing embrace.

I hope I am not too late, my friend.

They rode on, Tukul loosening his sword in its sheath, fingertips brushing the haft of the axe strapped to his saddle, then they were on the road that sloped up to the gates, meadow pastures to either side.

All-Father, may my sword stay sharp and my body swift.

He could see the gates had been smashed in.

Whoever did that will be regretting it, now that they cannot shut us out.

Horns blew from above the wall and riders issued from the gates, forty, sixty – more all the time. Tukul grunted his respect for whoever had made the decision to meet them in the open.

Better to keep us out than in, and brave not to hide behind their walls.

Tukul raised a fist and a hundred and fifty Jehar spread to either side of the slope, forming dark wings about him.