‘Fight me,’ Roisin said. ‘Exile in these marshes is a death sentence, you all know it.’

‘Edana doesn’t need to fight you,’ Halion said. ‘She is Queen. She commands.’

Fight me now in the court of swords,’ Roisin snarled at Edana, ‘show the backbone a queen needs; or are you a coward, happy to let others do your dirty work?’

Edana hesitated.

‘I always knew that you were just talk, a spoilt, shallow child,’ Roisin spat.

Edana drew the sword at her hip. Blood was still upon it.

‘No,’ Halion and Vonn called out, both of them moving in.

‘Step back,’ Edana snarled, eyes fixed upon Roisin. They paused, then reluctantly did so.

Roisin twirled the sword in her hand. ‘Three older brothers who used to use me for practice,’ she said, a thin smile twitching her lips. Then she rushed at Edana, who blocked, retreated, parried again, stepped to the side and punched Roisin in the mouth.

Roisin staggered back, spat blood. ‘You’ll regret that, you little bi—’

Edana lunged forwards, deflected Roisin’s hurried block and chopped her sword into Roisin’s wrist. Blood spurted and Roisin screamed, collapsed to her knees, staring at Edana in surprise.

Edana stood above her, blade raised high, tip pointed at Roisin’s heart, quivering. A long silence stretched. ‘You lose,’ Edana said, lowering her sword. ‘Halion, get her out of my sight.’

Looks like the princess has grown up.

As Halion moved forward Camlin lowered his bow and slid his arrow back into his quiver. Then he looked about the glade, realized one of their number was missing.

Where’s Vonn?

CHAPTER EIGHTY-SIX

EVNIS

Evnis stumbled along the stream bank, pushing through tall reeds and hanging branches. The sun was sinking, a mist rising from the water, swirling lazily onto the bank. He was shivering, soaked to the skin, the clothes of his left side burned black, the skin on the back of his hand and the left side of his face prickling with pain.

But I still have my life. I will get out of this swamp, wait for the warband from Dun Carreg. He shook his head. Outwitted by that little bitch Edana, the humiliation. It must have been someone else’s plan – Pendathran, maybe. He was there, I saw him. And, let’s look on the positive side, with any luck Morcant’s dead.

He saw a movement up ahead, a flash of grey fur, disappearing amongst a reedbed.

A hound? Rafe? He’ll be able to get me out of this stinking dung hole.

He had lost everyone, his boat speeding after Edana so intent on catching her that he hadn’t seen the empty boat being pushed with poles straight into his vessel – not until it was too late, anyway. And then the flames. Jumping overboard had seemed the only sensible thing to do, particularly in light of the fact that his whole left side had been on fire.

Oh, the pain . . .