“One or the other.” Madeleine leafed through the Bible. “Love to know where they got some of this stuff from. The old St Alkmund’s, maybe, before it burned down. It’s a treasure trove, anyway. There’s a piece here – mediaeval, looks like. Says a group of Danes – Vikings – came and tried to plunder the Thursdale barrow. Only one of them came back, and he’d gone half-mad. Said the giants were sleeping underground and the Fimbulwinter’d begin there.”

“The what?” Charlotte again.

“The Fimbulwinter.” Everyone looked at Kate. “In Norse myths, it’s the great winter, heralds the end of the world. The giants wake up and...” She coughed and shrugged. “Had a Norwegian boyfriend in my first year. He was into all that stuff.”

Charlotte shook her head. “Giants? I mean, seriously?”

“‘The Dane, by name Floki,’” Madeleine quoted from the book, “‘pleaded to straightway be baptised a Christian; this being granted, he settled on Redheath to watch over the accursed place, and built a church there.’ You know, ‘Kirk’ is Old Norse for ‘church’, and ‘Flockton’ – well, ‘ton’ means homestead or estate, and ‘Flock’ –”

“Could be Floki,” said Kate Beck. “And I suppose Rudheath would have been the old name for Fendmoor?”

“Before Kirk Flockton sank into it,” said Ellie.

“Pretty much.” Madeleine sniffed, still leafing back and forth through the book. “Pity this is all we’ve got from those days. I’d love to know what they had to say about the Bad Winter.”

“The what?” said Jess.

“There was one winter where nearly everyone in the village died,” said Ellie.

“Starved or froze, supposedly,” said Madeleine. “At least, I’d always assumed that. But you’ve got to wonder, haven’t you? If maybe something like this happened before?”

Whatever else they’ve got down there, underground seems to be where they all come from. Makes sense when you think about it. No light.”

“Okay, but… giants?”

“The Saxon word thyrs can mean giant, but it can mean monster, too, or demon. Thing is, the thyrs were supposed to be able to change size as well as shape.”

“Thyrs?” said Milly. “Like Thursdale?”

“Might be. Anyway, far as I can tell, all this got taken pretty seriously well into the Middle Ages, maybe beyond. And they seemed to be more worried about Thursdale – looks like the Blackfield barrow was considered safe by then. Must have been, really – village is practically built around it.”

“Maybe the village started as a place to keep watch,” said Kate.

“Could have,” agreed Madeleine. “But if it did, over time attention shifted to the new barrow in Thursdale. Apparently they kept watch on it for years, and gave the farmstead in the valley to the bravest warriors, because they’d be the first to fight and the ones to give warning. Hence, Barrowman Farm.”