Razi grinned, delighted at Christopher's sudden warmth. He straightened expectantly, waiting for someone to offer a board.

Embla was staring at him. "Tabiyb," she whispered. "I want ..."

"We will play the game now!" said Ashkr loudly. Embla's eyes darted to him. "We play chess, Sol and me. We beat the trousers off your man and then we see who has the biggest balls! We drink to it," said Ashkr. "Yes? We drink to beating your man in chess."

"Aye," whispered Embla. "Aye, Ash, we drink to that."

"Coinin," said Solmundr flatly. "You get drinks now."

Wynter caught Christopher's eye as he rose to his feet. He was desperately unhappy. She tried to question him with her eyes but he turned away, rubbing his hands on his trousers, scanning the shadows at the back of the tent.

"You drink, a chroi?" murmured Embla, running her hand along Razi's face. "Drink to victory?"

Razi nodded uncertainly.

"Come help me, Embla," said Christopher. "I don't know where everything is."

As Embla rose to help Christopher, Razi looked across at Wynter. His dark eyes were troubled. Like Wynter, he felt this odd charge between the Merron. Outside, the dogs shifted, their chains clinking in the empty silence of the camp, Wynter turned to listen to the quiet sound. Ashkr's soft voice drew her attention back to the company.

"Tell me what you do this winter, Sol."

"I not want tell that now," said Solmundr, pulling his head away from Ashkr's caressing touch. His friend drew him close, whispered please. Solmundr closed his eyes. "I not want to, Ash," he whispered.

Embla and Christopher were coming around the edge of things now, a tray of six tiny silver beakers and a jug carried between them. Embla glanced at Solmundr as she picked her way across the mats. "You tell it now, Sol," she said. "Make Ash happy." She knelt on one side of Razi, and Christopher knelt on the other. Between them, they began to set out the little beakers.

Solmundr laid his head back against Ashkr's shoulder and stared up at the smoky ceiling. Ashkr kissed the side of his neck. "Tell me what you do this winter, Sol," he murmured again. "Tell me where you go."

"I go with the tribe to the winter hunting ground," began Solmundr softly.

Ashkr smiled and sat back against the cushion, his eyes closed. "Yes," he said. He pulled Sol closer. "Then what you do?"

"Then I leave the tribe in the valley," continued Solmundr, "and I go to our lodge on the mountain."

"Yes," murmured Ashkr.

Christopher uncorked the jug and began to fill the little beakers with thick, amber coloured liquid. Embla placed them, one at a time, before each member of the company.

Solmundr's eyes were very bright now, gazing at the ceiling. His hoarse voice was as soft as the gentle-hiss of the fire-basins. "I hunt the little red deer," he whispered. "I hunt good and I get much food for the winter. Much hide. I maybe hunt also the bear, and make for me a black fur coat." Ashkr nodded. "And there not be any licence men, not either any cavalry, to harry us and spoil our winter rest."

"Ash," said Embla softly, leaning forward and offering her brother his drink. Solmundr and Ashkr straightened, took their beakers, held them solemnly, waiting. Embla lifted hers. Wynter and Razi glanced at Christopher. When he took his, and, without looking up, raised it, they followed suit. Wynter looked down at her drink. It was very heady, smelling strongly of resinous honey.

"Croi an Domhain," toasted Ashkr. "Ar fad do Chroi an Domhain!"

The Merron and Christopher downed their drinks, emptying their cups in one swallow. Razi and Wynter hesitated. They glanced at Christopher. He nodded, and they downed the drinks.

Wynter gasped as honeyed fire burned its way to her stomach. Jesu, she thought, that is unbearably sweet!

"Gah!" spluttered Razi, "that is bitter!" Wynter stared at him. He tried valiantly to hide his disgust and couldn't. One eye closed and his entire face puckered in reaction. "Gah!" he said again, laughing. "Woman! Are you trying to kill me?"

Embla laughed shakily. Christopher took the beaker from Razi's hand, carefully laying it behind him on the floor.

Ashkr pulled Solmundr back against him. "Finish the story, a chroi," he murmured, wrapping his arms around his friend. "What you do, in our lodge, all the long winter, when firelight paint the walls and the snow pile heavy on the door?"

Razi gasped, working his tongue around his mouth to rid himself of the bitter taste. "Oh, Embla! he said, "I... I think I need some water."

Christopher rose to his knees and placed a hand on his friend's shoulder.

Ashkr glanced at him, then murmured once again to Solmundr, "Tell me what you do, Sol, this winter in the lodge."

Solmundr closed his eyes. Two bright tears made an unexpected trail down his cheeks. "I ..." he said, "I ..."

"You be happy," insisted Ashkr, squeezing tightly. "Say it, you be happy."

"I... be happy."

"And you have beautiful blond man to warm your bed."

Solmundr sobbed, shaking his head.

"Yes," insisted Ashkr. "Yes. Beautiful man. As many as you wish."

"No," whispered Solmundr. "No, Ash. No."

"But who warm your heart, a chroi? While that man warm your bed?" Ashkr wrapped himself around Solmundr and buried his face in his friend's neck. "You tell me," he moaned, "tell me, who warm your heart?"

"You," sobbed Solmundr. "You. Always you. Never anyone but you."

Wynter stared at the two men, shocked by their sudden distress.

"Embla!" The alarm in Razi's voice snapped Wynter's attention back to him. At the sight of him she lurched to her knees, her eyes wide. He was bent forward, clutching his chest. "Christopher," he gasped. "Chris... What...?"

"Shhhh," soothed Christopher, rubbing his back. He glanced at Wynter and she hunched warily, her hands closing to fists.

"Christopher?" she snarled.

"Shhhh," he said again. "It will be all right."

Razi stared around him with unfocused fear. He tried to rise, and Christopher and Embla leapt to catch him, supporting his head and shoulders as he collapsed backwards. Razi cried out and gasped, his arm flying out in aimless self-defence.

"It's all right!" said Christopher, his voice breaking in a sob. "It's all right, Razi... Please ..."

"You've poisoned him!"

"No! No, Iseult! Trust me!"

But Wynter was already flinging herself backwards, rolling across the furs, and scrambling for the pile of weapons they had left by the door. She scrabbled around in blind panic for a moment, before realising that the weapons were gone. She came to a despairing halt, feeling the air pour through the narrow gap where someone had reached in under the hide wall and drawn their weapons outside.

Behind her, Razi kicked out and sent the tray of little beakers flying. Christopher was trying to soothe him, repeating that it was all right, everything was all right. Razi lashed at him in rage and fear. Wynter remained hunched by the door, staring in horror through the gap under the wall. The tent was surrounded by Merron, all silently waiting in the rapidly encroaching dusk. Her stomach shrank to a cold walnut at the realisation that this was what Christopher had been doing, that time he had stood here, his shadow thrown against the wall. He had been showing the others where the weapons were, letting them know what part of the wall to lift.

She turned on him, snarling through furious tears. "God curse you for a traitor, Christopher Garron," she hissed. "God curse you! What are they going to do with him?"

"No," he moaned, shaking his head. "No, lass. Please. It's to keep him safe. That's all. I promise you, it's the only way."

Razi weakly lifted his arm, then let it fall. His head and shoulders were supported across Christopher's lap and he was trying in vain to push the young man away. His eyes rolled beneath heavy lids, closed briefly, opened again. Gasping, he made one last attempt to grab the front of Christopher's shirt. He succeeded only in batting at his friend's chest, and then his arm slithered down to fall slackly between them and his body went limp in Christopher's arms. Wynter cried out in despair.

Ashkr called out something and bright light flared across the hide walls as a ring of torches roared to violent life outside the tent.

"You come take care of Tabiyb, Iseult," said Embla. She was helping Christopher lay Razi down onto the furs, rolling him gently onto his side, propping him into position with cushions at his back. "This herbs very strong. They may to make him sick, and if you not careful, he can to choke."

Wynter watched, frozen, as Christopher passed his hand over Razi's curls. He glanced at her. "Come on, lass," he said softly. "Come take care of our lad."

Behind her, Ashkr whispered to Solmundr, "Let me go now, a chroi. You know I got to go." He still spoke Hadrish, and Wynter wondered if it were so that the Merron outside would not understand.

"Iseult," said Christopher urgently. "Come here. Please."

"We got no time," said Embla. "Come here."

Wynter scrambled across the mats and pushed Embla to one side. "Razi!" she cried, shaking him and peering into his slack face. "Wake up!"

Christopher grabbed her arm and she jerked away from him with a cry. He grabbed her again and pulled her up to face him.

"There's no time!" he yelled. Wynter snarled at him, and his fingers dug into the tops of her arms. "I want you to look after Razi," he hissed urgently. "Don't leave him on his own." He pulled her closer. "And don't leave Sol on his own. I don't trust what he told Ash, I don't think he does intend going on. Don't let him out of your sight."

Wynter blinked at him in frantic confusion. She could feel her anger draining from her, leaving only fear.

Embla had crossed to the others, and when she spoke, her voice was soft and persuasive. "Ash," she said. "Let him go. Ash, let Sol go. He not part of this no more."

She guided her brother to his feet, but Ashkr kept hold of Solmundr's hand, stretching his friend's arm up as he stood. The men were not looking at each other, their faces curiously vacant, but their hands remained joined as if welded.

"Let go," murmured Embla, prising their fingers loose. "Let him go, a chroi."

Christopher got to his feet and Wynter was too stunned to do anything but watch as he crossed the tent and crouched to look into Sol's face. "Let go now, Sol," he said. "You're out of time."

Abruptly Solmundr shook Ashkr's hand away. Ashkr stumbled backwards, his face despairing, then he seemed to gather himself, and, with a deep breath, straightened and stiffly turned to face the door. Embla joined him. Outside the tent there was no sound but the gutter and flare of torches and the soft clink of the warhounds' chains. After a moment, Embla reached out and took her brother's hand.

Christopher stayed crouched by Solmundr, gazing into his eyes.

"You not have to keep your promise," whispered Solmundr, his empty fist clenched to his chest. "I know it too much to ask."

"I shall fulfil my promise, Solmundr. I swear it."

Solmundr's face softened in desperate gratitude. "You not let them see you, Coinin," he warned. "You know what they do if they catch you. Ulfnaor, he will not be able save you from it."

Christopher nodded.

Wynter rose to her knees. "Chris ..." she whispered, very frightened for him suddenly. She understood now that Christopher meant to join the Caoirigh. He intended to leave with them and to hand himself over to that silently waiting throng.

There was a murmur from outside. Embla looked back. "We need to go, Coinin."

"Christopher!" cried Wynter, surging upwards.

Christopher lurched to his feet and dashed across the tent to her. He grabbed her and she clenched her arms around him, pulling him in. "Don't go!"

He whispered into her hair, speaking only for her. "Stay in the tent, girly," he whispered. "You'll be safe in the tent." He pulled back, glaring into her eyes. "Listen, no matter what happens... no matter... no matter what happens, these people will look after you now. I promise you that. I want you to promise me that you will accept their protection. Promise me that you'll force Razi to accept it."

"Oh God, Christopher! What are they going to do to you?"

He shook his head, his eyes full. "Promise, Iseult! Please! Tell me you'll accept their protection, no matter what. Even if... Iseult, just promise me you won't fall prey to the mastery of the Wolves!"

Wynter gripped Christopher by the tops of his arms, the silver of his bear-bracelets cold beneath her hands. "Stay!" she hissed. "What could they do to you if you stay?"

He shook his head.

"Stay! Please, they can't make you go."

Christopher gently shrugged free of her grip. He kissed her fingers. "They ain't making me do aught, lass. It's my choice. Once we decided to stay, I couldn't just stand by and... I can't let him down, lass. If you knew, you wouldn't either." He glanced down at Razi. "You'll tell him I'm sorry, all right? Tell him it was all I could think of to keep him safe."

"Tell him yourself!" cried Wynter. "Where are you going that you can't tell him yourself?"

"Coinin," Ashkr's whisper made them both turn. A dark shadow had fallen across the door. Embla glanced back at Razi, she looked at Wynter, then turned away. Ashkr did not look back at all. Solmundr stared expressionlessly at the dancing flames of the firebasins, his hand still clenched over his heart.

Ashkr bowed his head. His hand tightened briefly on Embla's and they parted. The pale lady stooped, lifted the door flap and ducked outside. As soon as Embla and Ashkr had stepped out into the flaring light, Christopher turned and walked after them.

Wynter didn't try and stop him, she didn't reach for him or speak in any way. She was simply too numbed by confusion and fear. So Christopher ducked through the door and passed outside and Wynter silently watched him go. He took his place beside the twins. For a moment he was outlined darkly against the torches and the waiting Merron. Then a figure stepped in from the side, the tent flap was dropped, and he was gone.

A Promise Kept.

Wynter sank to her knees beside Razi, her eyes on the door. Outside, there was the unmistakable noise of many people shifting quietly about. Wynter listened, trying to make out voices. There was nothing. She flicked a glance at Solmundr, who was leaning back against one of the tether poles, staring blankly at the walls. He looked like a man who had been hollowed out and left an empty shell.

"Sol," whispered Wynter, "what will become of them?"

He didn't reply.

Suddenly Razi gasped and drew up his knees, startling her. He curled desperately and groaned. Wynter was certain he was about to vomit, but as quickly as it had hit, his distress drained away and he relaxed again into sleep. She pushed the cushions tighter around him and took his hand. Outside the tent, a man spoke, and a shadow passed rapidly across the wall. The torches bobbed about for a moment and then the light began to fade as they were carried away.

No! Wynter scrambled forward. Christopher! Peering through the gap, she was alarmed to see the crowd padding away into the darkness. Already the torches were nearly out of sight. Soon the Merron would disappear into the forest and that would be it. She would have to sit here and wait, not knowing.

Wynter laid her hand on the door. She glanced across at Solmundr. The warrior just continued to gaze at nothing, not caring whether she stayed or went. Behind them, Razi moaned in renewed discomfort. He drew up his knees, clenched his fists again, then slowly relaxed once more. Wynter waited, listening as Razi's breathing evened out. She shouldn't leave him. Christopher had begged her not to leave him. Christopher. Gritting her teeth, Wynter ducked under the door flap and ran into the gathering darkness.

The warhounds rose to their feet, and Wynter felt them rush forward as she ran past. There was a sharp, metallic clink as they reached the ends of their chains. She glanced back. There were only three of them, and they stood in a row watching her, their heads cocked in canine curiosity, blessedly silent. Good dogs, she thought, stay quiet. Then she rounded a tent and they were lost from sight.

Sliding to a halt, she crouched in the shadows at the edge of camp. The Merron were at the tree line already, just a bobbing line of orange torches. Before she could even catch her breath, the forest sucked the torchlight into itself and she lost sight of the procession.