We can’t fight it – look at the power of it. But maybe . . .

Coralen shouted to Teca and Yalric and then she was picking up speed, a trot to a canter, her mount back under her control now.

Enkara was still pinned, the weight of the draig upon the horse grinding her leg into the forest litter. Teca and Yalric rode at the draig, both of them sighting their weapons and loosing while their mounts were moving. Teca’s arrow sank into the soft flesh between its foreleg and torso, Yalric’s axe bouncing off of its head with a dull thud.

Thicker skull than a bear, then.

The draig swung its head about, confused for a moment, then bellowed, shifting its weight momentarily off of the horse. In an instant Enkara had pulled free and was on her feet, lurching into a hobbling run. Coralen guided her horse close and grabbed Enkara’s forearm, swinging her into the saddle behind her and then she was off, kicking her horse hard, letting it do exactly what it wanted most in the world – gallop as fast as it possibly could away from the draig. A hasty glance over her shoulder and Coralen saw that Teca and Yalric were following behind, the draig obviously deciding that more chasing was not necessary when it had a tasty meal under one claw.

‘Can we go back to Drassil, now?’ Enkara shouted in Coralen’s ear.

CHAPTER SEVENTY

CAMLIN

Camlin felt a sharp pain in his back, Braith’s sword-tip prodding him, directing him to walk on. The snow had stopped falling now and was turning to slush under his boots. Vonn trudged before him, blood matting one side of his face, his hands bound behind his back, just as Camlin’s were. Braith’s companion, a lad holding a long spear, was leading the way, two grey hounds at his heels. They were tall and sleek, and they looked hungry, too.

Long as I’m not the meal. Wouldn’t put it past Braith. He’s probably been starving them and promising them me for dinner.

‘You made it back home, then,’ Vonn addressed the lad with the dogs. He turned and looked at Vonn.

‘I did, no thanks to you.’

Camlin recognized him, then. The prisoner Coralen had caught in the hills of Domhain, the one who had told them about Cywen and Conall both being alive.

‘Strange, Rafe, that we’ve ended up on different sides, when we were once such good friends.’

‘Were we?’ Rafe asked.

‘I thought so.’

‘Well, friends or no, I chose to stand by my oath – the one I swore to your da.’

‘That’s strange, too,’ Vonn said, ‘because I chose to stand by my oath – the one I swore to my King.’

Rafe looked back and scowled at Vonn then, one of the hounds doing the same and growling.

‘Family should come before kings, or queens,’ Rafe said.