“Yes,” the Forge Born answered. He lay down on the litter and Deglan was struck by how agile the thing was despite its size. The litter Sir Corc had constructed held firm, its inclined design helping distribute Coltrane’s weight. Both the coburn helped push from the back while the mule pulled forward, and the litter got moving. It was a mile to Castle Gaunt, and Deglan waited with the coburn until Rosheen came back with the good news.

“Now for our part,” Sir Corc said.

Deglan nodded and went inside the ruined building. Blink was playing with the dogs while Madigan sat off against the wall, sharpening his spear.

“It is time,” Deglan told him, and the Sure Finder pierced him with his raptor’s eyes for a moment before rising smoothly.

They crossed the plain together, making no attempt to hide amongst the scrub and boulders. The coburn had donned their full arms. Bantam Flyn wore brigandine and mail, his greatsword unsheathed and propped on his shoulder. Sir Corc wore mail with steel plates covering his arms and torso, a shield across his back, sword, mace and dagger hanging from his belts. Deglan held Blink’s hand as they walked, and Rosheen flew next to them. Madigan led the group, with Sweat and Panic loping on either side. The Sure Finder’s stride was fluid, almost careless. Deglan wished he felt as confident.

The mile passed quickly and Castle Gaunt loomed ahead of them, the pale morning light staining the thick clouds above it an ugly yellow. Madigan turned before reaching the bridge and made for the horsemen’s camp. Tents and makeshift paddocks covered a large swath of ground in the shadow of Penda’s Rock. Deglan saw warriors, grooms, errand boys and serving wenches going about their morning chores while the warriors milled about. Fully half their number was mounted, ready to begin their first patrol around the Rock. A challenge went up from the sentries when they saw Deglan’s little group approaching, and he tightened his grip on Blink’s hand.

“Earth and Stone,” he swore under his breath. “What are we doing?”

Madigan walked past the slack jawed sentries and directly into the camp. Deglan and the others followed close behind with Sweat and Panic running a circular patrol around them. The warriors surrounded them now, some on foot and others mounted, but hesitance on every face. Deglan saw more curiosity than aggression, and something else. The men cast only furtive glances at him, the coburn, Rosheen and the child. Mostly they looked at Madigan. They knew him. They knew his dogs. And they feared all three. The Sure Finder stood, returning the men’s stares with placid savagery, his spear held loosely at his side. He waited. Deglan held his breath.