‘You’re quiet, Fossy,’ Lemon said as she and the other Black Hawks trudged along behind Chel and the prince. ‘You pondering life’s great mysteries, or is it bum-gas again? Just between us, that last bit of breakfast isn’t sitting too pretty in my down-belows either, and if someone sparks a flint at the wrong moment, I’m apt to go up like—’

‘I am reflecting, Lem,’ came Foss’s tired reply.

‘Like a puddle?’

‘I am reflecting that while God may have a plan for us, He has a certain humour about its implementation.’

‘Come again?’

‘Our young friend saved this woman, this reaver, and now she leads us downmap, toward the great unknown. Toward a savage land and savage people, or toward our own salvation?’

‘Aye, right, Fossy, this is a bit doom-flavoured even for me. Maybe their god is on board with yours, eh? Maybe it’ll all be sunshine and rainbows.’

Foss’s sigh carried the weight of centuries. ‘They have their own bloody pantheon, unlike anything ever described by the church.’

‘Who’s to say they can’t be friendly?’

‘They cut the limbs from their sacrifices and hoist them on sharpened poles, while still they live.’

‘… Oh. Bit short on manners, then.’

Chel dropped back a pace. ‘Is there any way we can trust her?’ he asked in a low voice, with a nod to Brecki at the head of the group.

Lemon made a face. ‘Can’t see how.’

‘But we’re getting her home, right?’

‘Do they even have homes? I thought Horvaun simply sprung forth from holes in the ground and set about chewing through livestock.’

‘Lemon!’ Foss admonished. ‘That’s a terrible thing to say about an entire people.’

‘Aw, come on, Fossy, have you ever met one who wasn’t a cast-iron bastard?’

Foss pursed his lips. ‘I’ve only ever met that one.’

‘Well, there you go.’

‘Wasn’t Tarfel’s mum from there?’ Chel said in a hopeful voice. ‘And his grandfather? You heard her,’ – another nod at Brecki – ‘saying “you’re of our blood”.’

‘Aye, just goes to show, doesn’t it?’

‘What?’

‘You can take the most wild and savage bloodline, and it can grow up to be … that.’

‘Will the three of you cease your prattle?’ Kosh’s peevish tones carried over the clear air. ‘This accursed wasteland you call a country is bitter enough without the constant chirping of small-brained mammals. Spirits curse this cold!’

‘Oh, cork it, Norty,’ Lemon called back with a chuckle. ‘Like the big man said, it’s all downhill from here.’

Chel resumed his place beside the prince, his thoughts dark and churning.

***