Rennic pushed himself back upright. ‘Let’s hope our fates don’t rest on this little piss-cloth,’ he muttered. ‘Let’s get where we’re going, get to someone who can actually make a difference.’

With a pointed look at the prince, Sab led them into the woods. Before long, they reached a clearing, where she came to a hesitant stop. It looked deserted, and the sun had long since disappeared behind the hills; if it had been cold before, the coming night promised something altogether worse.

Rennic strode ahead, into the clearing, fierce eyes scanning the trees in the dying light.

‘This is the place?’

‘It should be.’ Sab crinkled her nose. ‘I’ve never actually been out here …’

‘But?’

‘But I left a message in the usual drop. They should know we’re coming.’

‘Depends if there was anyone left to listen. As our friends along the road can attest, King Corvel has been busy.’

Something rustled in the gloom beyond the clearing, and Rennic froze, hands gripping the glaive. Chel felt his pulse quicken but nothing more. His muscles were spent, his very bones exhausted, and he’d long since given up on the idea of food. He wanted to lie down on the ground and let the world wash over him. Beside him, Tarfel whimpered.

A hoot came from somewhere around them, a formless owl, too loud, too imprecise. Rennic unfroze, a broad grin spreading across his face in the twilight. He visibly relaxed, letting the end of the glaive rest on the ground, then put one hand to his mouth and hooted in return.

A figure detached from the darkness of the trees, striding across the clearing with a sun-bright smile. Even in the low light, Chel could recognize Whisper’s lithe gait anywhere, the springing confidence in every step. She raced to Rennic, embracing him with silent affection, while he let the glaive fall.

The bushes beside him rustled and crackled, then an orange-haloed figure emerged blinking into the clearing. ‘All right, wankers?’ said Lemon. ‘How’s tricks?’

FOUR

Talking surrounded them, a happy gabbling of steaming breath in the nascent moonlight. Rennic and Whisper engaged in one-sided conversation, the mute scout straining to slow her cheerful gestures to maintain their clarity in the low light. Lemon expressed joyous disgust for their collective state, accused Chel of both improper diet and hygiene, bobbed a quick bow to Tarfel then demanded introductions to the others. She was delighted to meet Sabina, doubly so when she learnt of Sab’s crucial role in their escape. Sab herself was particularly tickled to find that the mercenaries also called her brother ‘Bear’, or derivations thereof.

Chel was not tickled, and turned quickly to the Nort.