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At last they reached Hawthorne’s cabin, the warriors leaping from their stallions and carrying the shieldbearers inside. Making quick work of tending to the poor horses, Thea rushed inside after them.

A fire had been lit in the hearth, as had several candles, and in the glowing warm light Thea could finally see just how bad both Cal and Kipp looked. They were laid out on a huge bed, deathly pale, with deep rope burns around their wrists.

‘Get their clothes off,’ she heard herself say. ‘We need to get them warm and fast.’

She left the Warswords to undress her friends, while she gathered blankets and heated water over the fire. The tasks kept trembling hands busy, but not her mind.

Will they live? If they live, will they be the same? Will they recover in time for the test in two days? Do they even know it’s in two days?All that time she had sat in the warmth of the Great Hall listening to King Artos, they had been suffering. And it was all her fault. It was shewho Seb truly hated. He had done this to hurther.

Her friends could have died because of it, because of her.They might yet still.

Sitting at their bedside, Thea started to unravel. She had saved Seb’s arse during the battle at the ruins, and this was the consequence. Who was she to think she could have ever been a shieldbearer, let alone a warrior or Warsword of Thezmarr? The only thing she would ever be was inadequate.

‘Whatever you’re thinking,’ Hawthorne’s voice growled. ‘Don’t.’

The pain in Thea’s chest wouldn’t abate. ‘You don’t understand…’

‘I do. Better than you know,’ came the reply. ‘I sent Torj to get a healer. They’ll get through this.’

‘How do you know…’ Thea’s voice broke.

‘They’re strong and stubborn,’ he said. ‘Just like you. Now come and get dry by the fire. They won’t wake for a while yet.’

Thea let the Warsword lead her from the bedroom to the hearth in the main room of the cabin. She hadn’t realised how weak she felt until he guided her to a chair before the flames. Gently, he pushed her down into its cushions and handed her a steaming mug.

‘Drink that.’

Thea didn’t even bother to ask what it was; it was easier to follow directions than anything else. So she raised the mug to her lips and drank.

Peppermint tea, she realised as the steam carried the aroma to her nose.He remembered…The hot liquid heated her fromthe inside out and only then did she realise how cold she’d been. She was soaked through, had been for hours —

A heavy blanket fell around her shoulders.

‘It’s not your fault,’ Hawthorne said softly.

Thea pulled the blanket tighter and stared into the flames. ‘It is. Seb – the person who did this… It was because of me.’

‘His actions are his own and he will answer for them.’

‘I’ll make sure that he does,’ Thea whispered, already imagining Seb’s face as she carved her blades through his flesh.

‘I have no doubt.’

Thea looked up, surprised. ‘Why are you being kind to me? I thought you didn’t want —’

Hawthorne sighed. ‘Because I have felt the burden of guilt and would wish it upon no one. Not even a maddening shieldbearer with a death wish.’

‘I don’t have a death wish.’

‘No? Then why is it every time I see you, you’re flinging yourself into danger?’ Another sigh. ‘Get some rest.’

Thea woke sometime later. She rushed to Cal and Kipp, who were both still sleeping. Some colour had returned to their faces and their brows were warm when she pressed her hand to them.

The relief surging through her chest threatened to overwhelm her, so she stepped back, and left them to rest. She found Hawthorne on the porch, leaning against the wall, staring out into the dark early hours of the morning, the rain still hammering atop the cabin’s roof.

‘No sign of Torj?’ she asked.

He didn’t so much as flinch at the sudden intrusion – he’d known she was there. ‘No, but he shouldn’t be long now. It’ll take time to find the right people, the right supplies and ready fresh horses.’