Tunny narrowed his eyes. A few hundred strides away, off to the north and east, figures were jogging across the fields, chinks of sunlight through the heavy clouds glinting on armour. The Northmen, presumably. And since no one appeared to be pursuing them, pulling back in their own time, and on their own terms. “Yah!” shrieked Yolk as he ran up, a war cry that could hardly have made a duck nervous. “Yah!” Leaning over the wall to poke away wildly with his sword. “Yah?” “No one here,” said Tunny, letting his own blade slowly fall.
