Midnight Falcon

'I didn't expect to ride out,' admitted Bane. He glanced around at the waiting men. 'You'd better start thinking of limiting your numbers,' he added. 'Either that or start a new tribe. No way will you be able to feed many more than this.'

'I have been thinking the same,' agreed Wik.

The twin invasion was proving a logistical nightmare for Co

'You can rely on me, Co

'I do rely on you, my friend. But Jasaray is a cu

Meanwhile Bendegit Bran was gathering troops from all over the north, ready to march against Shard and his fifteen thousand Sea Wolves.

At Old Oaks Co

The king's mother, Meria, and the wives and younger children of Bendegit Bran and Fiallach were among several hundred people who travelled south to Three Streams in the second week of spring. They travelled with an escort of twenty Iron Wolves, led by Fi

'Is this a punishment?' he had asked the king.

Co

'No, sir. It is just that I will miss the fighting.'

Co

Fi

'Shall I get one of my men to take over?' he asked Meria nervously. The king's mother was a stern woman, her tightly braided hair the colour of iron, her green eyes cold and hard.

'You think I am incapable of driving a wagon?' she asked him.

'No, lady, of course not.'

'Then be about your business, Captain Fi

Bendegit Bran's five-year-old son Orrin peeped out from under the canvas canopy. 'Are we there yet, Uncle Fi

'Not yet,' he answered, with a grin. 'Soon. How is Ruathain?'

'He's sleeping again,' said Orrin. 'He's very hot.'

Fi

An hour later, just before dusk, Fi

Three Streams, and gazed down on the settlement. It was here that his father and mother had met. It was here that Co

Sixty miles to the east four of Shard's long ships beached in a secluded bay, and two hundred and fifty raiders waded ashore.

Their leader, Snarri Daggerbright, was a veteran of many raids. A hulking figure with deep-set eyes and a misshapen mouth – the result of a kick from a horse some years before, which had smashed out his front teeth and crushed his nose flat against his skull – Snarri relished this mission. Shard's informant had assured him that almost all of the fighting men would have been moved either north to face Shard or south to resist Jasaray. That left only the old men and the women. Snarri felt his blood rise at the thought of the Rigante women, and the days ahead of blood and rape and cleansing fire.

He marched his men across the sand, and up into the woods, halting at the tree line to scan the surrounding land.

'Where do we strike first?' asked Dratha, his second in command.

Snarri pointed to the west. Three Streams.'

'There must be closer settlements,' said Dratha.

'Aye, there are, but Shard says that Co

It was a source of sadness to Vorna the Witch that no matter how great the magic it could never change a human heart. Not the heart that was merely a giant muscle propelling blood through capillaries, veins and arteries, but the invisible heart at the core of every human soul.

Vorna sat at her window, watching the refugees leave their wagons and be welcomed into the homes of the people of Three Streams. Meria, and the brood of children and women with her, went to the old house that the first Ruathain had built, and soon smoke from the hearths drifted up from the chimneys. Vorna watched as two soldiers helped the boy Ruathain from the wagon. His legs all but crumpled beneath him, and they carried him into the house.

When the wagons had arrived Vorna had been standing by the first bridge. She saw Meria driving one wagon, but her old friend turned her head away as the wagon passed. It had hurt Vorna deeply. There was no reason she knew of that would cause Meria to treat her with such discourtesy. Had she not saved Meria's son from certain death? Had she not, through her magic, kept her husband Ruathain alive long after his heart should have failed?

She trudged back to the house, placed a kettle on the stove, and made herself a mug of camomile tisane.

There had been a seed of bitterness in Meria's heart ever since her first love, Varaco

Yet why she should shun one of her oldest friends was a mystery to Vorna, and a source of grief. Especially when one of her grandchildren hovered at the point of death. Meria knew Vorna was a healer, yet such was her apparent hatred that she would let her grandson die rather than come to the one person who might save him. Vorna sipped her tisane and moved away from the window. Banouin, she knew, had tried to heal Ruathain, and for some days he appeared to have succeeded. But then the boy suffered a relapse, his fever returning.