‘Shoglig told me the time, and the place, and the manner of my death. She whispered it, and made me swear to keep it secret, for magic shared is no magic at all. So I cannot tell you where it will be, or when, but it is not here, and it is not now.’ He stopped a few paces from the fire. ‘You boys, on the other hand …’ Whirrun’s hooded head tipped to one side, only the end of his sharp nose, and the line of his sharp jaw, and his thin mouth showing. ‘Shoglig didn’t say when you’d be going.’ He didn’t move. He didn’t have to. Wonderful looked at Craw, and rolled her eyes towards the starry sky.

But Hardbread’s lads hadn’t heard it all a hundred times before. ‘That Whirrun?’ one muttered to his neighbour. ‘Cracknut Whirrun? That’s him?’

His neighbour said nothing, just the lump on the front of his throat moving as he swallowed.

‘Well, my old arse if I’m fighting my way out o’ this,’ said Hardbread, brightly. ‘Any chance you’d let us clear out?’

‘I’ve a mind to insist on it,’ said Craw.

‘We can take our gear?’

‘I’m not looking to embarrass you. I just want your hill.’

‘Or Black Dow does, at any rate.’

‘Same difference.’

‘Then you’re welcome to it.’ Hardbread slowly got to his feet, wincing as he straightened his legs, no doubt cursed with some sticky joints of his own. ‘Windy as anything up here. Rather be down in Osrung, feet near a fire.’ Craw had to admit he’d a point there. Made him wonder who’d got the better end of the deal. Hardbread sheathed his sword, thoughtful, while his lads gathered their gear. ‘This is right decent o’ you, Craw. You’re a straight edge, just like they say. Nice that men on different sides can still talk things through, in the midst of all this. Decent behaviour … it’s out o’ fashion.’

‘Those are the times.’ Craw jerked his head at Scorry and he slipped his knife away from Birthmark’s throat, gave this little bow and held his open hand out towards the fire. Birthmark backed off, rubbing at the new-shaved patch on his stubbly neck, and started rolling up a blanket. Craw hooked his thumbs in his sword-belt and kept his eyes on Hardbread’s crew as they made ready to go, just in case anyone had a mind to play hero.