‘It’s dangerous, Betty,’ Edmund said, trying to pacify his wife. ‘There’s a town full of brigands. And my companions aren’t exactly the professionals we’re used to working with.’

  ‘And I haven’t faced countless dangers in the past?’

  ‘This is different.’

  ‘How? We used to take on our enemies together.’

  ‘Because I can’t afford to lose you again.’

  She said nothing to that. Her silences were getting more frequent, and longer.

  They left Avolo for Eisenberg. There were eight of them, sent to defeat a force of twenty. Edmund was reluctant to take on the role of leader of their group. All the same, he knew they were reliant on him. Ashlyn and Twerk offered solid support. But the three of them were the only fighters in the group, and it was fighters who were needed for this mission.

  When they stopped for the night, he and Ashlyn went through their sword drills. She was learning to fight with Greenblade. It had a longer reach than her previous sword, which took some getting used to.

  ‘It’s no heavier,’ she declared, seemingly pleased with her new weapon.

  ‘Try it with your shield,’ Edmund suggested. ‘That’s where things can get tricky.’

  She did as he suggested. He had already noticed that about her—she accepted tuition well, with none of the defensiveness that was common amongst warriors. He struck out with Slayer, forcing her to defend, then let her move on to the attack.

  ‘What?’ she asked. ‘I can tell by your expression I’m doing something wrong.’

  ‘Not wrong, exactly. But you’re very aggressive with the shield.’

  ‘I was always taught to use the shield as a second weapon.’

  ‘Which is true. But think of it like this. Your sword—even more so now you have one with magic—will get you your kills. Use your shield strike in a way that opens up your opponent to your sword strike. And make sure you can bring it in for defence. You’ll do more damage in a battle if you can preserve your hit points.’

  ‘Makes sense,’ Ashlyn conceded.

  The Bowman had returned from target practice and watched them train. ‘When will I learn the blade?’ he asked.

  ‘When you’ve mastered the bow,’ Edmund suggested.

  ‘Huh. What about this sword, then, Ashlyn? Have you worked out what it does yet?’

  She frowned. ‘No.’

  The green jewel in the pommel was the only clue they had as to what magic had been imbued into the weapon, and it had revealed nothing so far.

  ‘Perhaps you’ll find out when the fighting begins,’ Edmund suggested.

  ‘That’s your concern?’ Twerk demanded.

  Edmund hadn’t noticed the gnome was there.

  ‘At least you were given a magic item! I’ve been left empty handed!’

  ‘But none of the weapons were the right size for you,’ Ashlyn said. She held her sword out, as if offering it to Twerk.

  ‘Exactly! It’s discrimination.’

  ‘It’s discrimination that the barrow had no gnome-sized weapons?’ Edmund asked, genuinely confused.

  ‘Of course it is! Humans don’t notice it, because everything in the world is human sized. Makes everything ten times harder for the likes of us.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Ashlyn said. ‘Next time, we’ll look out for something for you.’

  Twerk couldn’t find anything to object to in that statement, and wandered away, grumbling to himself.

  Next morning, they took it easy. There was no point in tiring themselves. They would attack at night, when the brigands were in bed. Even if they had a night watch set up, Edmund didn’t expect it to be very serious.

  The Explorer led the way. Twerk walked with him. Edmund couldn’t tell whether that was because the gnome thought he was in charge, or because he enjoyed Jaelin’s company. He and Ashlyn formed the rearguard, drifting back far enough to allow them to talk in private.

  ‘Whoever taught you the sword did a fine job,’ Edmund commented, reminded of his thoughts from yesterday’s practice.

  ‘My father.’

  They walked on in silence, and Edmund thought that was all she would say.

  ‘It was just me and him. When he died, the local sheriff used his friends in the courts to take my family’s lands. They left me with nothing but the clothes on my back, and the weapons in my belt. I’d heard about Gal’azu, and decided I had nothing to lose. I thought it might be a fresh start.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Ashlyn. I came here for a fresh start, too.’

  She was silent again for a while.

  ‘Edmund?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘What’s the story with your wife?’

  He couldn’t help but smile at the way she asked. ‘Me and Betty were inseparable. We crewed together for years—a perfect team, you might say. She got ill. A horrible disease. I didn’t know what to do with myself after she died. Like you, I ended up on a ship to Gal’azu. But Betty came with me. I still speak to her sometimes. When we’re alone.’

  The rest of the crew had stopped, curtailing their conversation.

  ‘What is it?’ Edmund asked.

  ‘Eisenberg,’ The Bowman said. ‘In striking distance.’

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