The Heroes

along the way, how many of Craw’s dozen went back to the mud for this hill. Craw did care. Maybe too much, these days. Hardbread and his boys were out of the river now, last of ’em disappearing into the browning apple trees between the shallows and the foot of the hill, heading for the Children.
    Yon appeared between two of the Heroes, bundle of sticks in his arms, puffing away from the climb. ‘Took a while, but I found some— What?’
    ‘Weapons!’ bellowed Brack at him.
    ‘Hardbread’s back!’ added Athroc.
    ‘Shit!’ Yon let his sticks fall in a tangle, near tripped over them as he ran for his gear.
    It was a bastard of a call and Craw couldn’t dither on it. But that’s what it is to be Chief. If he’d wanted easy choices he could’ve stayed a carpenter, where you might on occasion have to toss out a botched joint but rarely risk a friend’s life.
    He’d stuck all his days to the notion there’s a right way to do things, even as it seemed to be going out of fashion. You pick your Chief, you pick your side, you pick your crew and then you stand by ’em, whatever the wind blows up. He’d stood by Threetrees ’til he lost to the Bloody-Nine. Stood by Bethod ’til the end. Now he stood with Black Dow and, whatever the rights and wrongs of it, Black Dow said hold this hill. They were fighters by trade. Time comes a fighter has to toss the runes and fight. It was the right thing to do.
    ‘The right thing,’ he hissed to himself. Or maybe it was just that, deep under his worries and his grumbles and his blather about sunsets, there was still a jagged little splinter left in him of that man he’d been years ago. That dagger-eyed fucker who would’ve bled all the blood in the North before he backed down a stride. The one who stuck himself in everyone’s craw.
    ‘Weapons,’ he growled. ‘Full gear! Battle gear!’ Hardly needed saying, really, but a good Chief should shout a lot. Yon was delving into the packhorse’s bags for the mail, dragging Brack’s big coat rattling free. Scorry pulling his spear from the other side, jerking the oilskin from the bright blade, humming to himself while he did it. Wonderful stringing her bow with quick hands, making it sing its own note as she tested it. All the while Whirrun knelt still, eyes closed, hands clasped before the Father of Swords.
    ‘Chief.’ Scorry tossed Craw’s blade over, stained belt wrapped around it.
    ‘Thanks.’ Though he didn’t feel too thankful as he snatched it out of the air. Started to buckle it on, memories of other bright, fierce times he’d done it flashing by. Memories of other company, long gone back to the mud. By the dead, but he was getting old.
    Drofd stared around for a moment, hands opening and closing. Wonderful gave him a slap on the side of the head as she passed and he came round, started loosening the shafts in his quiver with twitchy fingers.
    ‘Chief.’ She handed Craw his shield and he slid it onto his arm, strap fitting into his clenched fist snug as a foot into an old boot.
    ‘Thanks.’ Craw looked over at Shivers, standing still with his arms folded, watching the dozen make ready. ‘How about you, lad? Front rank?’
    Shivers tipped his face back, little grin on the side that wasn’t stiff with scar. ‘Front and middle,’ he croaked. Then he ambled off towards the ashes of the fire.
    ‘We could kill him,’ Wonderful muttered in Craw’s ear. ‘Don’t care how hard he is, arrow in the neck, job done.’
    ‘He’s just passing the message.’
    ‘Shooting the messenger ain’t always a bad idea.’ Joking, but only half. ‘Stops him taking messages back.’
    ‘Whether or not he’s here we’ve the same job. Keep hold o’ the Heroes. We’re meant to be fighters. A little fight shouldn’t get us shitting ourselves.’ He almost choked on the words, since he was mostly shitting himself from morning to night, and especially in fights.
    ‘A little fight?’ she muttered, loosening her sword in its sheath. ‘Near three to one? Do we really need this hill?’
    ‘Closer to two to one.’ As if that made it good odds. ‘If the Union do come, this hill’s the key to the whole valley.’ Giving himself reasons as much as her. ‘Better to fight for it now while we’re up here than give it away so we can fight our way up it later. That and it’s the right thing to do.’ She opened her mouth like she was going to argue. ‘The right thing!’ snapped Craw, and held his hand out, not