Dath passed Cywen a skin of something. She sniffed it suspiciously – mead?

‘Where’d you get this?’

‘Rescued it from Rhin’s stores in Dun Vaner,’ Dath said with a grin. ‘That’s the last of it, now.’

‘It’s good stuff,’ Farrell said. ‘Especially on a cold night like this.’ He unslung the war-hammer from his back and laid it on the grass beside him. Unconsciously he patted its iron head.

That’s Da’s war-hammer, Cywen realized, felt her grief swell in her chest. Again. She took a sip of the mead, the taste of honey combining with a pleasant heat in her belly.

‘It’s good to have you back with us,’ Dath said to her, reaching out and squeezing her wrist. She fought the urge to pull away, felt tears threaten her eyes.

She took a deep breath.

‘It’s good to be here,’ she answered. Her eyes drifted about the fires that dotted their camp. She saw Corban emerge from the darkness with Gar and Tukul at his side. He sat beside Meical, who was talking to Akar. Behind them, at the edge of the firelight’s reach, Storm prowled.

‘Corban told me some strange things today. What the Jehar are saying about him.’

‘Gar started all that. At first we thought he’d gone mad,’ Dath said cheerfully. ‘Then Corban gets himself captured by Rhin and a warband of the Jehar ride up and carve seven hells out of Rhin’s warriors. They call Corban the Seven Disgraces, or something like that . . .’

‘Seren Disglair,’ Coralen corrected, not losing time with her whetstone.

‘Whatever.’ Dath shrugged. ‘Whatever it is, those Jehar seem on the edge, to me.’

‘Edge of what?’ Coralen asked him.

‘Insanity. It worries me.’

Coralen laughed at that, a touch of warmth melting the coldness in her face, just for a few moments.

‘Do you believe it?’ Cywen asked. ‘That Corban is this Seren Disglair?’

‘Aye,’ Farrell said without hesitation. They all looked at him.

‘There’s more to what’s going on than border disputes and a power-mad queen,’ he said to their inquisitive gaze. ‘Look at what we all saw back in Murias. That was the Kadoshim that came out of that cauldron . . .’

Dath shivered and made the ward against evil.

‘Asroth and Elyon, the Scourging, Ben-Elim and Kadoshim, we’ve all heard the tales.’

‘Aye, faery tales,’ Dath said.

‘There’s usually a fire that starts the smoke,’ Farrell shrugged. ‘What I’m saying is: there’s something big happening. You’d be a fool to ignore it.’ He looked pointedly at Dath. ‘So Corban’s part of it. Why not? And that would explain a lot of things: like why we’re here, with giants and Jehar all around us and Kadoshim a dozen leagues behind us. Besides, if anyone is going to be this Seren Disglair, I, for one, am happy it’s Corban.’

‘What do you mean?’ Cywen asked him. She noticed Coralen was staring hard at Farrell.

‘He’s the best of us,’ Farrell said with a shrug. ‘Honest, brave, fair. Loyal. I’d follow him into any fight.’