In spite of his splinted hand and his stitched chin, Calder didn’t have to work too hard to get the smirk onto his face now. He didn’t have to work at all. He might not have been the tallest man about, but still he was the biggest in the valley. He was the next King of the Northmen, and anyone he told to eat his shit would be doing it with a smile. He’d already decided who’d be getting the first serving.

Caul Reachey’s laughter echoed out of the night. He sat on a log beside a fire, pipe in his hand, spluttering smoke at something some woman beside him had said. She looked around as Calder walked up and he nearly tripped over his own feet.

‘Husband.’ She stood, awkward from the weight of her belly, and held out one hand.

He took it in his and it felt small, and soft, and strong. He guided it over his shoulder, and slid his arms around her, hardly feeling the pain in his battered ribs as they held each other tight, tight. For a moment it seemed as if there was no one in the Heroes but them. ‘You’re safe,’ he whispered.

‘No thanks to you,’ rubbing her cheek against his.

His eyelids were stinging. ‘I … made some mistakes.’

‘Of course. I make all your good decisions.’

‘Don’t leave me alone again, then.’

‘I think I can say it’ll be the last time I stand hostage for you.’

‘So can I. That’s a promise.’ He couldn’t stop the tears coming. Some biggest man in the valley, stood weeping in front of Reachey and his Named Men. He would’ve felt a fool if he hadn’t been so glad to see her he couldn’t feel anything else. He broke away long enough to look at her face, light on one side, dark on the other, eyes with a gleam of firelight to them. Smiling at him, two little moles near the corner of her mouth he’d never noticed before. All he could think was that he didn’t deserve this.

‘Something wrong?’ she asked.

‘No. Just … wasn’t long ago I thought I’d never see your face again.’

‘And are you disappointed?’

‘I never saw anything so beautiful.’

She bared her teeth at him. ‘Oh, they were right about you. You are a liar.’

‘A good liar tells as much truth as he can. That way you never know what you’re getting.’

She took his bandaged hand in hers, turning it over, stroking it with her fingertips. ‘Are you hurt?’

‘Nothing to a famous champion like me.’

She pressed his hand tighter. ‘I mean it. Are you hurt?’

Calder winced. ‘Doubt I’ll be fighting any more duels for a while, but I’ll heal. Scale’s dead.’

‘I heard.’

‘You’re all my family, now.’ And he laid his good hand on her swollen belly. ‘Still—’

‘Like a sack of oats on my bladder all the way from Carleon in a lurching bloody cart? Yes.’