The sun broke through the clouds, momentarily lifting Finnigal's spirits, but the feeling was short-lived. People suddenly came streaming back down the hillside, dropping their provisions, shouting and waving. Finnigal removed his iron helm, the better to hear them. 'Outlaws!' he heard one man cry. 'Hundreds of them. Flee for your lives!'

Finnigal swore and shouted for his sergeant, a twenty-year veteran named Prasalis. The soldier came running from the direction of Nanncumal's forge. 'Gather the men,' ordered Finnigal.

'Here they come, sir,' said Prasalis, drawing his sword.

Finnigal strode out along the main street, past Eldest Tree, a colossal oak. He saw a man wearing a gleaming iron breastplate and helm leading the outlaws. The panic on the hillside eased as the advancing men showed no intention of attacking. Prasalis moved alongside his young captain. 'I make it a hundred and three,' he said. The Iron Wolves ran to line up alongside Finnigal, swords drawn.

The outlaws approached, and Finnigal found himself staring at their leader, open-mouthed. As he came closer he looked more and more like Connavar! It was uncanny. Even the eyes were the same, one green, the other tawny gold. There was no doubting who he was: the Bastard Bane. None of the outlaws had their weapons drawn. Even the archers had removed their bowstrings in a bid to keep them dry.

'What do you want here?' demanded Finnigal.

Bane smiled. 'Relax, captain. We are here to help you.'

'I need no help from a scurvy-'

Bane raised his hand. 'Say nothing more, captain,' he advised. 'Come, walk with me.' Turning away, Bane strode towards the forge. He did not look back to see whether Finnigal was following.

'If there's the first sign of trouble, attack them,' Finnigal told Prasalis. Then he moved after Bane, who was waiting by the forge fence.

'If you have come here to rob-'

'Shut your mouth, boy,' snapped Bane, 'and listen to what I have to say. There are two hundred Sea Wolves close by, and we have no time to bicker with one another. Now it is my intention to open Nanncumal's armoury and get mailshirts, swords and bucklers for my men. Then we will help you evacuate the settlement, and put ourselves under your orders for a rearguard. I have sixty bowmen, and forty other men who will fight with sword or axe. That gives us at least a fighting chance of protecting the refugees. You hear what I am saying?'

'I expect your price will be high for this,' said Finnigal. Bane's eyes grew cold and hard, and Finnigal felt the onset of fear.

'Aye,' said Bane, 'my price will be high. Now do you have a scout in the east?'

'Of course.'

'Then he should give us at least some warning when the raiders are close.' Bane scanned the settlement. 'Why are so many people still here?'

'The Lady Meria refused to leave. Others have followed her lead.'

'Is that so? We will attend to that presently. But first I will arm my men. Be so good as to advise yours to put away their weapons and continue with the evacuation.'

Finnigal reddened. 'Is this what you meant about putting yourself under my orders?'

Bane paused, and when he spoke his words surprised the young officer. 'You are quite right, Captain. How do you wish to proceed?'

Finnigal suddenly felt foolish, and a little ashamed. If the Sea Wolves were coming, he would need every fighting man he could find. He looked at Bane, and saw the contained anger in the man. 'This has been a tense day,' he said, by way of an apology. 'Take your men into the forge and arm them.' Turning to his men he called out: 'Put away your swords and continue with the evacuation.'

Leaving the bowmen outside Bane led the others through to the rear of the forge and the armoury beyond. The bald, stooped figure of Nanncumal stepped in front of the doorway.

'What are you doing here, Bane?' he asked. 'Bringing more shame upon the family?'

'Naturally,' said Bane. 'However, we have little time for debate, Grandfather. The enemy is coming and I need armour and weapons.'

'You are letting him do this?' Nanncumal asked Finnigal.

'I have instructed him to do it,' said Finnigal. 'Bane and his men are now under my orders.'

This is madness,' persisted Nanncumal. 'These men are robbers and killers.'

'Stand aside, Grandfather,' said Bane softly.

'Do it!' roared Finnigal. Nanncumal took a step to the left and Bane went by him into the armoury, his men trooping after him. Finnigal approached the elderly blacksmith. 'They are pledged to protect the refugees, and we badly need them, sir,' he said.

'But there are no Sea Wolves close by,' said Nanncumal. The Lady Meria insists that Vorna is mistaken.'

'I hope she is right,' said Finnigal, 'but I do not believe that she is.'

From inside the armoury came the sounds of whooping and laughter.

'Do you know,' asked Nanncumal, 'how much that armour is worth? Each mailshirt costs ten ounces of gold, and you are giving them away. You will have to answer for it.'

'I doubt that,' said Finnigal. 'I am charged with protecting the Lady Meria. If she stays, I stay. So it is likely that by dusk today I shall be dead.'

The old man looked at him, and his expression changed. 'You are a good man, Finnigal,' he said. More laughter came from inside. 'I'd better see what they are taking.'

Finnigal nodded and returned to the main street.

The evacuation was continuing at an even greater pace now and Finnigal smiled. Many of the people had dismissed the fears of a Vars force approaching, but they had no wish to remain in a settlement where a hundred outlaws had gathered.

Prasalis approached him. This may not be wise, sir,' he said. 'I know some of those men. The thin bowman by the wall there is Wik. He's a cold killer. He'd slit his grandfather's throat for a bent copper coin. Then there's the Norvii, Valian. The king has warrants out on him for rape and murder. There are at least a dozen others with no belly for a smash-skulls-or-die skirmish.'

'As matters stood this morning,' Finnigal told him, 'we had twenty men, and some fifty middle-aged volunteers facing a force above two hundred strong. Now we have one hundred and seventy men. Some of them may be cowards, but they are here, Sergeant.'

'And what if it is all a trick, sir, and they have come to rob and kill?'

'Then I will have made a dreadful mistake. I don't, however, think that will prove to be the truth. I looked into Bane's eyes. I do not think him treacherous.'

'Just because he looks like the king doesn't mean he will act like him,' Prasalis pointed out.

'By the gods, I actually feel like a soldier,' said Gryffe, holding out his arms and admiring the sleeveless mailshirt. He chuckled, then gazed up at the sword rack on the wall. He swung to Nanncumal. 'No battle axes?'

'No axes,' replied Nanncumal. Gryffe lifted down a longsword.

'This will do,' he said.

'It will not do,' said Nanncumal, striding forward and snatching it from Gryffe's hand. This is a rider's weapon. Do you know nothing? It is blade-heavy and meant to be swung downwards from the saddle.' Replacing the sword he pushed past several other outlaws and took down a longsword with a leather-covered grip and curving quillons. It was some eight inches shorter than the first blade. 'Here, numbskull!' he said. 'Feel the balance of this!'

Gryffe took it. 'I have to admit it feels better,' he said.

Nanncumal sighed. 'You expect these men to stand up to Sea Wolves?' he asked Bane. 'The Vars are born ready to fight. They are utterly ferocious. Gods, man, you know this. You've fought them yourself!'

'You are right, Grandfather,' said Bane. 'We'll send a messenger to the Vars asking them to wait for a week while we find better men to oppose them.' He smiled as he said it, and the old man suddenly chuckled. Then his expression hardened.