‘General fucking Jalenhorm?’ Hedges snorted. ‘Hearts and minds? You? Don’t make me laugh!’

‘Make you laugh?’ Tunny frowned. ‘Make you laugh? Trooper Yolk, I want you to raise your loaded flatbow and point it at Lance Corporal Hedges.’

Yolk stared. ‘What?’

‘What?’ grunted Hedges.

Tunny threw up an arm. ‘You heard me, point your bow!’

Yolk raised the bow so that the bolt was aimed uncertainly at Hedges’ stomach. ‘Like this?’

‘How else exactly? Lance Corporal Hedges, how’s this for a laugh? I will count to three. If you haven’t handed that Northman back his fur by the time I get there I will order Trooper Yolk to shoot. You never know, you’re only five strides away, he might even hit you.’

‘Now, look—’

‘One.’

‘Look!’

‘Two.’

‘All right! All right.’ Hedges tossed the fur in the Northman’s face then stomped angrily away through the trees. ‘But you’ll fucking pay for this, Tunny, I can tell you that!’

Tunny turned, grinning, and strolled after him. Hedges was opening his mouth for another prize retort when Tunny coshed him across the side of the head with his canteen, which represented a considerable weight when full. It happened so fast Hedges didn’t even try to duck, just went down hard in the mud.

‘You’ll fucking pay for this, Corporal Tunny,’ he hissed, and booted Hedges in the groin to underscore the point. Then he took Hedges’ new canteen, and tucked his own badly dented one into his belt where it had been. ‘Something to keep me in your thoughts.’ He looked up at Hedges’ lanky sidekick, fully occupied gawping. ‘Anything to add, pikestaff?’

‘I … I—’

‘I? What do you think that adds? Shoot him, Yolk.’

‘What?’ squeaked Yolk.

‘What?’ squeaked the tall trooper.

‘I’m joking, idiots! Bloody hell, does no one think at all but me? Drag your prick of a lance corporal back behind the lines, and if I see either one of you out here again I’ll bloody shoot you myself.’ The lanky one helped Hedges up, whimpering, bow-legged and bloody-haired, and the two of them shuffled off into the trees. Tunny waited until they’d disappeared from sight. Then he turned to the Northman and held out his hand. ‘Fur, please.’

To be fair to the man, in spite of any troubles with the language, he fully understood. His face sagged, and he slapped the fur down into Tunny’s hand. It wasn’t that good a one, even, now he got a close look at it, rough-cured and sour-smelling. ‘What else you got there?’ Tunny came closer, one hand on the hilt of his sword, just in case, and started patting the man down.

‘We’re robbing him?’ Yolk had his bow on the Northman now, which meant it was a good deal closer to Tunny than he’d have liked.

‘That a problem? Didn’t you tell me you were a convicted thief?’

‘I told you I didn’t do it.’

‘Exactly what a thief would say! This isn’t robbery, Yolk, it’s war.’ The Northman had some strips of dried meat, Tunny pocketed them. He had a flint and tinder, Tunny tossed them. No money, but that was far from surprising. Coinage hadn’t fully caught on up here.