Corban frowned. ‘Me neither. The last time I saw her was just after we came out of the tunnel. She ran off with Buddai.’

Coralen raised an eyebrow at that.

‘I think I might know where they are, or at least what they’re doing.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I think Storm’s in season.’

‘What!’

Corban blinked, for a moment not understanding. Then Coralen’s words sank in.

In season? Are Storm and Buddai making pups? In hindsight it was so obvious that he almost slapped his forehead. Her change in behaviour, her playfulness with Buddai. Of course wolven have seasons, but I have noticed nothing. Too busy, too preoccupied to notice those around me. And she’s run off with Buddai. He thought about that a moment and then smiled. They would make fine pups. Or cubs?

‘Corban,’ Gar called to him and Corban hurried away, Gar throwing him a curved practice sword.

Corban loved the sword dance; it was like an old friend or a favourite place, such as the oathstone glade in the Baglun, somewhere that he would go where he felt safe and comfortable. Once he began, raising his sword high, two-handed into stooping falcon, everything else melted away. He did not even remember moving from one form to the next, flowing between them like liquid. The dance ended with a lunge and shout combined, a straight thrust that began in his ankles and ended with his blade through an imaginary opponent’s heart.

With the shout still ringing in the air Corban blinked and looked around, sweat dripping from his nose. The weapons court was full with what must have been every single person that had travelled to Drassil with him. Corban saw Balur and the rest of the Benothi, villagers of Narvon, Wulf and the survivors of Gramm’s hold, Javed and the oarsmen from the Vin Thalun ships, all mingled. Something white moved, and for a moment he thought it was Storm, but then he realized it was much smaller – the terrier, with Haelan standing beside it.

All of them were staring at him, and as he looked back he realized what a unique and varied warband they made, so many strengths and specialities amongst them.

We are a force to be reckoned with.

‘This is the weapons court,’ he heard himself cry out. ‘Come, join us, for here we will forge the warband that will slay the Black Sun and his followers, and set the Banished Lands free.’

Where did that come from?

A silence settled about him, and then a huge roar, starting, Corban suspected, with Farrell and Dath, but growing into a bellow louder than a hundred draigs. As it died out and people began stepping into the court Corban marched over to Balur, Gar pacing behind him.

He won’t let me get out of sparring, even if I am the Bright Star.

‘Balur, I would ask something of you,’ Corban said.