The Heroes

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
we
here?’
    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?’
    Craw thought about it. ‘River. Up against the stones would seem … disrespectful.’
    ‘You think there are Gods watching?’
    ‘How do you tell?’
    ‘True.’ Whirrun chewed his grass stalk across to the other side of his mouth and started off down the hill. ‘River it is, then. Maybe I’ll give Brack a hand with the fishing. Shoglig used to be able to just talk the fish out of the water and I’ve never quite been able to get the trick of it.’
    ‘You could hack ’em out with that tree-cutter of yours!’ Wonderful shouted after him.
    ‘Maybe I will!’ He lifted the Father of Swords high over his head, not much shorter’n a man from pommel to point. ‘High time I killed something!’
    Craw wouldn’t have complained if he held off for a spell. Leaving the valley with nothing dead was the sum of his hopes, right then. Which was an odd ambition for a soldier, when you thought about it. Him and Wonderful stood there silent for a while, side by side. Behind them steel squealed as Yon brushed Athroc away and sent him stumbling. ‘Put some effort in, you limp-wristed fuck!’
    Craw found himself coming over nostalgic, like he did more and more these days. ‘Colwen loved the sunshine.’
    ‘That so?’ asked Wonderful, lifting one brow at him.
    ‘Always mocked at me about sticking to the shade.’
    ‘That so?’
    ‘I should’ve married her,’ he muttered.
    ‘Aye, you should’ve. Why didn’t you?’
    ‘You told me not to, apart from aught else.’
    ‘True. She had a sharp old tongue on her. But you don’t usually have trouble ignoring me.’
    ‘Fair point. Guess I was just too