‘The horses-’

‘We will take care of the horses, now go!’

The twelve warriors hurried off and Morgeth shook his head. ‘Clan Bighorn always were a little thick.’

Arkan said, ‘Our horses are on the other side of the city.’ Looking at the large selection of mounts they had to choose from, he added, ‘Seems a fair trade.’

Picking a handsome gelding, Morgeth said, ‘You can’t possibly think of taking them all?’

Getting into the saddle on a bay mare, Arkan said, ‘I was thinking of it, but we have more pressing business. We should hurry back to camp before word of this fighting reaches them.’

‘Should we break camp?’ asked Morgeth.

‘That would draw too much suspicion. Narab has been planning this for a while, I think. He’s made arrangements: Bighorn is not one of his usual allies, which means he has added new ones. No, have our men stay close to the tents and tell my sons to be ready to fight, but we should keep our swords sheathed unless attacked first. No one is to look for trouble. Anyone who starts a fight, answers to me.’ He grew thoughtful for a moment as he gazed into the distance. Then he said, ‘I don’t think Narab is ready to crown himself yet. Tonight he was merely showing the unallied clans who held the most power here by breaking a few heads. I doubt more than two or three warriors will die before morning.

‘Tell Goran that if I discover his sword has been drawn before I get back I’ll personally make him eat it.’

‘Your son won’t like that.’ observed Morgeth with a wry, half-smile.

‘He doesn’t like a lot of things, which is why Antesh is my heir,’ answered Arkan. ‘Make sure Cetswaya stays close to my sons.’

Morgeth nodded. Cetswaya was their shaman and always a calm voice and wise counsel.

‘If I don’t return by sunrise tomorrow, have Goran and Antesh take the men north, then west. Find the rest of our people and take them back into the icelands, then wait until it’s safe to return to our normal range.’