Padric crawled up and saw Slouch Hat lying slack and motionless. Next to him was the small, crumpled form of the boy. The older coburn limped up the stairs, his eyes lost, searching for any other sight. He fell to his knees next to the boy and gathered him up in his arms, rocking back and forth. With a shaking hand he removed the iron crown from the small, scorched head and dropped it to the stones, brushing at the boy’s hair and looking into his still face. They all came up and surrounded the fallen child. The child who had saved them all. The knight clutched the limp body to his chest and threw his head back, shattering their hearts with his lament.

T WENTY S IX

TWENTY SIX

Deglan washed his hands in the bronze basin, drying them on a well-used cloth as he stepped out of the field tent. The morning was wet and grey, the air refreshing after the close smells of wounded men. Barely thirty of Orvin’s warriors had survived Castle Gaunt, and most of those were men lucky enough to take their wounds on the bridge battling the Red Caps. Of the riders who entered the castle, only two still lived, and Deglan could not say what injuries their minds had sustained.

The cairns for those who fell on the bridge were just outside the camp, raised with stones brought from the fields. The poor fools who died in the castle yard would molder where they lay. No one was willing to reenter that cursed place to retrieve them.

Deglan rubbed wearily at his eyes, grateful he had saved the ones he could. He ambled through the camp. There were more horses and grooms now than fighting men. A yawn snuck out, and Deglan considered doing the sensible thing and resting for a while, but ended up walking out of camp towards the castle bridge. He found Coltrane standing sentry as he knew he would. The Forge Born had not moved from the base of the bridge since emerging from the castle the day before. This morning, Curdle stood with him.

“You are very tired,” the mystic said as he approached.

“Keen observation,” Deglan grumbled back.

Curdle’s wrinkled face tried to smile.

It was Deglan’s turn to be observant. “You are leaving.”

“As soon as Muckle joins me, yes.”

“What will you do?”

“Go back to Toad Holm,” Curdle replied. “Search out the corruption and put an end to it, if we can.”

“We?” Deglan rolled his eyes. “That fat bastard going to be much use?”

This time the smile held. “In the Wisemoot, no. But in other tasks, our Jester is unequivocal.”

Deglan raised his eyebrows in dubious acceptance.

“And you?” Curdle asked.

“You already know.”

The seer said nothing for a long while.