‘It’s the Union we’re watching for, ain’t it? Those bastards couldn’t creep up on a corpse. You worry too much, Chief.’
‘Someone has to.’ But Agrick had a point. Worrying too much or not enough is ever a fine balance, and Craw always found himself falling heavily on the worried side of it. Every hint of movement had him starting, ripe to call for weapons. Birds flapping lazily into the sky. Sheep grazing on the slopes of the fells. Farmers’ wagons creeping along the roads. A little while ago Jolly Yon had started up axe practice with Athroc, and the sudden scrape of metal had damn near made him soak his trousers. Craw worried too much, all right. Shame is, a man can’t just choose not to worry.
‘Why are we here, Agrick?’
‘Here? Well, you know. Sit on the Heroes, watch to see if the Union come, tell Black Dow if they do. Scouting, like always.’
‘I know that. It was me told it to you. I mean,
‘What, like, meaning of life and that?’
‘No, no.’ Craw grabbed at the air as though what he meant was something he couldn’t quite get a hold of. ‘Why are we
Agrick’s face puckered up as he thought on it. ‘Well … The Bloody-Nine killed Bethod, and took his chain, and made himself King o’ the Northmen.’
‘True.’ Craw remembered the day well enough, Bethod’s corpse sprawled out bloody in the circle, the crowd roaring Ninefingers’ name, and he shivered in spite of the sun. ‘And?’
‘Black Dow turned on the Bloody-Nine and took the chain for his self.’ Agrick realised he might have used some risky phrasing there, started covering his tracks. ‘I mean, he had to do it. Who’d want a mad bastard like the Bloody-Nine for king? But the Dogman called Dow traitor, and oath-breaker, and most of the clans from down near Uffrith, they tended to his way of seeing things. The King of the Union, too, having been on some mad journey with Ninefingers and made a friend of him. So the Dogman and the Union decided to make war on Black Dow, and here we all are.’ Agrick slumped back on his elbows, closing his eyes and looking quite heavily pleased with himself.
‘That’s a fine understanding of the politics of the current conflict.’
‘Thanks, Chief.’
‘Why Black Dow and the Dogman got a feud. Why the Union’s taken the Dogman’s side in it, though I daresay that’s got more to do with who owns what than who made a friend of who.’
‘All right. There you are then.’
‘But why are
Agrick sat up again, frowning. Behind them, metal clonked on wood as his brother took a swipe at Yon’s shield and got knocked over for his pains.
‘Sideways, I said, y’idiot!’ came Yon’s un-jolly growl.
‘Well …’ tried Agrick, ‘I guess we stand with Dow because Dow stands for the North, rough bastard or not.’
‘The North? What?’ Craw patted the grass beside him. ‘The hills and the forests and the rivers and that, he stands for them, does he? Why would they want armies tramping all over ’em?’
‘Well, not the land of it. The people in it, I mean. You know. The North.’
‘But there’s all kinds of people in the North, ain’t there? Lot of ’em don’t care much for Black Dow, and he certainly don’t care much for them. Most just want to keep their heads down low and scratch out a living.’
‘Aye, I suppose.’
‘So how can Black Dow be for everyone?’
‘Well …’ Agrick squirmed about a bit. ‘I don’t know. I guess, just …’ He squinted down into the valley as Wonderful walked up behind them. ‘Why are we here, then?’
She clipped him across the back of the head and made him grunt. ‘Sit on the Heroes, watch for the Union. Scouting, like always, idiot. Damn fool bloody question.’
Agrick shook his head at the injustice of it all. ‘That’s it. I’m never talking again.’
‘You promise?’ asked Wonderful.
‘Why are we bloody here …’ Agrick muttered to himself as he walked off to watch Yon and Athroc training, rubbing the back of his head.
‘I know why I’m here.’ Whirrun had slowly raised one long forefinger, stalk of grass between his teeth thrashing around as he spoke. Craw had thought he was asleep, sprawled out on his back with the hilt of his sword for a pillow. But then Whirrun always looked asleep, and he never was. ‘Because Shoglig told me a man with a bone caught in his throat would—’
‘Lead you to your destiny.’ Wonderful planted her hands on her hips. ‘Aye, we’ve heard it before.’
Craw puffed out his cheeks. ‘Like the care of eight lives weren’t a heavy enough burden, I need a madman’s destiny to weigh me down.’
Whirrun sat up and pushed his hood back. ‘I object to that, I’m not mad in the least. I just … got my own way of seeing things.’
‘A mad way,’ muttered Wonderful under her breath as Whirrun stood, slapped the arse of his stained trousers and dragged his sheathed sword up and over his shoulder.
He frowned, shifted from one leg to the other, then rubbed at his fruits. ‘I’m needing a wee, though. Would you go in the river, or up against one o’ these stones, do you reckon?’
