‘Help me,’ a voice cried. The old warrior in the sinking hole. He was submerged to his chest now. Maquin and Fidele walked to the hole’s edge and stood silently watching him. He begged and pleaded, offered money, his oath, safe passage through the forest. Maquin and Fidele kept their silence, just watched him as he sank deeper. They did not move or speak until his head slipped beneath the mud.

CHAPTER TWELVE

CYWEN

Cywen rose to the sound of sparring, swords wrapped in leather to protect their edges and mute the noise of a few hundred Jehar warriors sparring with one another.

They were camped in the fringes of a wood nestled in a wide, steep-sided valley. Mountains surrounded them, their peaks wreathed in cloud. They marked the border between Benoth, the giants’ realm, and Narvon to the south, once the realm of Owain, now ruled by Rhin – as were all the kingdoms of the west.

Buddai lay beside her until he saw Storm, a shadow in the woods, and bounded after her. She smiled at them tumbling together, a flash of fur and teeth.

‘They act like pups around each other,’ Brina said from behind her. Cywen looked to see Craf was perched on her shoulder and another shape fluttered out of the sky to land on a branch close by.

Fech.

‘Some bonds can never be broken,’ Cywen told her. She turned back to watch the sparring, nearly three hundred warriors in a meadow, but her eyes picked out Gar and Corban almost immediately, the two of them moving in a blur, too fast to track individual blows. By some unspoken agreement they stopped, all those around them doing the same, then moved on to new opponents. Corban turned, and Coralen, the girl from Domhain, was standing in front of him. They shared a brief smile and set at each other. It was as fast as the combat with Gar, though with more kicking and punching, Coralen always moving close, using elbows and knees to gain any advantage. It still ended with Corban tripping her and his sword at her throat.

Cywen could relate to that, more often than not she had been in the same position when she had practised with Corban back at Dun Carreg. I remember that feeling. It’s annoying. That was until Dath had joined them, and she had started putting him on his back. But here even Dath was sparring as if he knew what he was doing. She saw him partnered against Farrell, using his size and speed to swirl around his larger friend. And Farrell was holding his own, confident blocks merging with smooth attacks. The last time I saw him he was a clumsy auroch. What’s happened to everyone? I spend the year with my hands tied together, and everyone else has become a warrior. She felt her face creasing in a scowl.