The dog, a fox terrier pup, is tied to an upright pole and just beyond its reach, in the shadows around the back of the hovel, under the hawthorn where the washing might dry should the sun ever shine, is Dafydd. They recognise his boots, salt-stained, a hole in the sole, and his hose, stitched at the knee after the fight in Kent. He is lying on his back in the dung and the wood chips.

His eyes are shut, the lids folded inwards over empty sockets.

‘It is him,’ Thomas says. ‘That giant. He is here.’

Katherine can only nod. Then she turns and looks down towards the sea where the mud and sand of the beach are only just visible through the twisting valley bluffs. Riven and that giant and the rest of them would have come up here, she thinks, once they’d come ashore. She wonders how many survived the storm? Five? Ten? Twenty? She wonders about their tracks. Surely they’d have left some? She thinks to go down to the sand to see.

‘We’ve no time to bury them,’ Walter mutters. ‘Take whatever we can use and let’s go.’

‘We can’t leave them here like this,’ she says, gesturing.

Walter looks at her.

‘If these bastards followed us from Lincoln, then they’ll be back here by this evening. How far d’you think we’re going to get with the girl here?’ He jerks his thumb in Margaret’s direction.

‘Margaret,’ Katherine says, and turns and runs. She is back in front of the cottage in a moment. Thomas’s footsteps come pounding after her, then Walter’s.

‘Margaret!’ she calls.

And Margaret peers loftily at her from the clearing before the orchard.

‘Yes?’

‘Thank God.’

They stop and look foolishly at one another.

‘Kit,’ Walter says. ‘You keep an eye on her.’

She nods.

‘But at least put them together,’ she says. ‘They’d’ve wanted that.’

Walter grunts in irritation, but Thomas leads the way and they carry the bodies from where they lie and place them together under an apple tree. Then they fetch Gwen from the cottage, Thomas gagging as he goes, and they lay her beside Owen and cover her with a straw mattress, the only thing they can find to do the job, and then they kneel and say the prayers over their bodies, though the smell from Gwen is so bad.

Afterwards they mount up and ride out in silence, following the path as it rises into the hills. Katherine cannot help but stare back over her shoulder, looking for that giant. Thomas does the same and their gazes meet and both nod in understanding.