‘Balur!’ Cywen spluttered again. Try as she might, she just could not imagine the giant warrior dispensing advice about love.

‘Aye – and can you stop doing that? Balur said to me that sometimes people can’t see things as plain as the end of their nose, but once it’s been pointed out to them they don’t know why they went so long without seeing a thing.’

‘That’s very wise,’ Cywen said. ‘In fact, Laith, you’re very wise. How old are you, exactly?’

‘I’ve seen forty-two summers,’ Laith said with a wave of her hand. ‘But we mature slowly, us giants, or so I’m told. Like usque. Ah, there he is.’ She pointed at Farrell and stood, swaying ever so slightly. ‘Any advice?’ she asked.

‘Try arm-wrestling him,’ Cywen said. ‘I hear he likes that.’

Laith smiled. ‘A man after my own heart. Will I have to let him win, though?’

Cywen was still laughing when Laith disappeared into the thinning crowd.

The bench creaked again.

This time it was Brina.

‘I need to talk to you,’ the healer said.

‘Feel free,’ Cywen said with a wave of her hand.

Brina frowned. ‘Are you sober?’ she asked, then her hand darted out and she pinched and twisted flesh on Cywen’s arm.

‘Ouch.’

‘Well, you’re still feeling pain, so that’s good enough,’ Brina said. She stood up and walked away, then paused and looked back. ‘Well, come on then, what are you waiting for?’

Muttering, Cywen rose and followed.

Eventually they ended up in Brina’s chamber, small and sparse, a bed and chair, a table with a half-melted candle upon it and a jug of water.

Only one cup, though.

‘I don’t get visitors,’ Brina said with a shrug, seeing where Cywen was looking. She dug around in her cloak and pulled out the book.

‘Isn’t that heavy to carry around all the long day?’ Cywen asked.

‘Of course it is,’ Brina snapped, ‘but I’m hardly going to leave it lying around for someone to just come along and take, am I? A book hundreds of years old, containing wisdom both wonderful and terrifying?’

‘I suppose not.’

‘Sit down and pay attention,’ Brina said. She sat on the bed, Cywen on the chair, and Brina opened the book at the back and started to read.

When she finished they both looked at each other. The worry and concern on Brina’s face, she knew, was reflected in her own. ‘We need to tell Corban,’ Cywen said.

CHAPTER EIGHTY-EIGHT

CORBAN