At last he could place the howls that came loud over the wind. He’d heard them before, at Raven-Hill. Reavers were upon them. Brecki had sold them down the river after all. Bitter disappointment curdled in his gut. He’d genuinely thought she was softening toward him.

Shaking snow from his head, he rolled up onto his knees, then immediately dropped back to the ice as a shape flashed through the mist, moving too fast, too smoothly, travelling around him in an arc, all the time making a noise like grinding steel. It howled as it swung around him, the howl picked up by others, more shapes gliding in and out of his vision. The shouts behind him redoubled, joined by the braying of the terrified mules, the whistle of arrows fired at nothing. Somewhere Lemon was beating something against her shield, screaming incoherently.

‘They’re on fucken skates? Fucken skatey-skates?’

He scrabbled to his feet. He’d travelled further than he realized. White surrounded him, shaded blue and grey. Murky ice beneath, snow-dusted, nothing but white haze above it in all directions. Sounds of combat, clangs and cries, came from one direction, one that looked the same as any other. He ran for it, feet slipping on loose powder.

One of the mules was down, its blood staining the snow bright around it. The others were huddled together, Tarfel and Kosh at their centre, the five points of a star, wide-eyed and steaming. Circling them were the howling, skating reavers, pale-skinned in pale furs, dodging in and out of the mist, flinging half-axes and knives, whooshing in close to slash at the beleaguered defenders.

Chel bolted for the mule-circle, feet slipping against the carved ice. He skittered on approach, unable to stop, and slid past an astounded Lemon with arms waving, crashing against the side of a mule and back onto the ice.

‘Wee bear! Nice of you to join us!’ Her shield was prickled with thrown steel, and she had a thick wad of blood on one temple. ‘Did you find that Brecki bastard?’

‘Not as such,’ he confessed. ‘What do we do?’

She hefted a hand-axe, then ducked behind her shield as something metallic flashed out of the mist and slammed into its creaking woodwork.

‘We’re fucken stuck! Can’t get near the pricks! We’ve winged a couple but I’m low on rods and Whisp is running out of sticks. Can’t tell you how many more of those fuckers are out there.’

He ducked down, scrambling beneath the panicked mule, past the equally panicked Tarfel and Kosh, and popped his head out the other side.

‘How are we doing over here?’

Rennic glanced down at him, maintaining a neutral expression. ‘You’re alive, then. Thought you’d run off.’

‘I am. What’s the plan?’