Niall ducked back into the forge. “Devon, I think that you’re going to want to get out here.”

Devon gave Niall a sharp look then put down his tongs and stepped outside. The two of them stood and watched as the horsemen approached. They did not seem to be in a rush so Niall had time to examine them as they came closer.

Four of the riders were clad in identical leather armour that had a crest worked into the front. There were two men and two women, each with a longsword strapped to the one side and a dagger at the other. Loaded crossbows hung from their saddles within easy reach. The only difference that Niall could make out between then was that one of the women who rode at the front had a green band strapped around her forearm.

However, Niall quickly focused on the fifth man, the one that rode in the centre of that foursome. It was clear that he was the leader. In contrast to the others, he was the only one wearing metal armour and had a blue cloak attached to his shoulders that seemed more for show than warmth. The crest on the armour of the others was embroidered extravagantly onto the back of his cloak. He had a rapier at his side but no other weapons. Niall knew nothing about horses, but even he could see that this man’s mount was superior to those ridden by the others.

The group stopped within a few feet of the forge and Niall realised that Devon had dropped to a knee and had bowed his head. Niall quickly joined him. Anyone that Devon would kneel to was definitely someone that he should be showing respect to.

“Rise, good blacksmith.” The leader’s voice was somewhat nasal, but rang with the air of expected obedience.

Niall followed Devon’s lead and got to his feet. The leader had moved to the front of the group. He was younger than Niall had expected, in fact he was around his own age, if not even younger. However, the air of entitled command that emanated from him belied his youth.

“Lord Chandris, to what do I owe the honour?” Devon said.

“Smith Devon, my dear father heard that there was a Bulvine attack in the area. A horrendous, nay, shocking, state of affairs. He suggested that I should take a few of the guard and check on the good people of Raintor. I take a whisper from the Duke as a command, so here I am. Elder Lars tells me that you and a hunter named Gwen were responsible for dealing with it.”

“That is correct my Lord.”

“You, a blacksmith, and a village hunter killed a Bulvine fighter?”

“It was a just a scout and it was already grievously wounded, my Lord. We tried to flee many times but it kept after us. Eventually we had to turn and fight. We barely survived.”

“No, it wasn’t.” The woman with the armband spoke for the first time.

Devon turned to her. “I beg your pardon, Captain. I’m not sure I understand.”

“It wasn’t just a scout, blacksmith.” She turned and fished something out from her saddle bags. “Elder Lars wisely kept hold of its belongings and its body.” She tossed it over to Devon. “This was taken from its skull.”

Devon snatched the item out of the air and looked at it. Without trying to be too obvious, Niall did the same. In Devon’s hand was a long white curved horn, the point still viciously sharp. It had clearly been taken from the minotaur.

Devon squinted up at the Captain with a perplexed look on his face. “I’m sorry, Captain. I don’t know what this is.”

“Look closely at the carving on it.”

Abandoning all pretence, Niall examined the horn closely. Carved onto it, in thin, barely perceptible lines, was an exquisitely detailed axe.

The Captain continued to talk. “It means, blacksmith, that the Bulvine you killed was a member of the Bloodaxes. They are the Bulvine Special Forces, trained to work both as elite front-line troops and to be effective behind enemy lines. Their purpose is to kill efficiently. It would normally take a Champion to be able to defeat a Bloodaxe. So let me repeat Lord Chandris’s question, how did two villagers kill one of the best warriors that the Bulvine have?”

Devon stepped forward and handed the minotaur horn back to the Captain. “I’m sorry, Captain, I can’t help. We must have got lucky. As I said, the Bulvine was already badly injured before it got to us. I completely agree with you. If it was at full strength, there’s no way that an ordinary blacksmith and a hunter would have survived.”

The Captain opened her mouth to speak again, then shut it again as Lord Chandris raised a hand. “Peace, Captain. It is clear that Devon Silverfeld either does not know anything more or,” a thin, humourless smile spread across Lord Chandris’ lips, “or is choosing not to share anything more with the son of his liege. I prefer to believe the former.”

Niall managed to suppress a shiver as Lord Chandris’s watery blue eyes turned to him. “And who do we have here? I may be wrong, but I believe that your son – Kiran is it? – is younger than this. In fact, are you not infamous for being reluctant to take on any apprentices except for your daughter? Your reluctance is understandable. I hear that there was a recent, unfortunate, incident with you last, failed, apprentice.”

A chill ran down Niall’s spine as Lord Chandris spoke. The Lord was making it very clear that he had researched Devon carefully before he arrived, and that he wanted Devon to know it. Niall was about to speak, but Devon came in first.

“This is my nephew. My sister asked me to take him on as an apprentice.” Devon glibly trotted out the cover story that they had shared with the rest of the village. As Devon had pointed out, telling the truth about how Niall had arrived was likely to bring unwanted attention.

“Ah yes, your nephew. A fine young man. Strapping, some might say. If he’s your apprentice, you must be planning for him to still be here over the summer.”

Devon looked confused but nodded. “Yes, I should think so.”

“Oh splendid, splendid. In which case, I will make sure that he is added to the list for the Spring intake.”

Devon’s confused look remained. “Spring intake?”

“Why, for Militia training, of course. If the Bulvine are sending their forces this deep into our territory then we are going to need all the fighters we can get. A strong apprentice smith like your nephew is exactly the sort that we need on the walls in case of an attack.”

“Of course, my lord.”

Lord Chandris’ tight-lipped smile returned. “Excellent. Have him report to Camp Sedrun after the Snow Snap Festival, Elder Lars has the details. No need to worry. We’ll have him back in time to get the harvest in. Now we must be off. Seeing as I had to come all this way, my father also asked me to look into the bandits that have started to take root around Boarwell. Not that it is our problem to sort out, but we can’t have them spreading into Gwilliant proper now, can we? And, of course, if we can do anything to help out our friends on the border then, we would be very happy to. Busy, busy, busy. Duty never sleeps. Good day to you both.”

With that, Lord Chandris turned and led his guards away. Niall and Devon watched in silence until they had disappeared.

As they disappeared into Raintor, Niall was the first to speak. “What was all that about?”

Devon shook his head. “I should have expected someone from the Duchy. The Bulvine we killed when you appeared was always going to attract attention. The Duke’s son? Now that was a surprise.”

“You told them that the Bulvine fighter was injured. I was there. It was fine until you attacked it.”

“No. If anyone asks, we need to be very clear you weren’t there.”

“What? Why?”

“This isn’t like back home. People are born, live, and die without going more than twenty miles from their village. You turning up is big news all by itself. No one has put together the fact that you arrived at the same time as that Bulvine attack. They think that you turned up a couple of weeks later. If people find out that you were at the attack then they may realise that it wasn’t a coincidence.”

“Wait. Not a coincidence?”

Devon gave him an incredulous look. “Really? You appear in the middle of a forest and you think that there just happens to be a Bulvine assassin, hundreds of miles out of its territory, just waiting for you?”

Niall felt painfully naïve. “Well, when you put it like that...”

“Just to be clear that idiot Captain knows nothing. That wasn’t just a Bloodaxe. Either Gwen or I could deal with one of those by ourselves. It was a Bloodaxe Warlord that was tracking you.”

“I don’t actually know what that means but it sounds bad.”

“Let me put it this way: Gwen picked up the tracks of that Bulvine six weeks before you appeared. She’s the best tracker I have ever come across. In those six weeks, she couldn’t get even a sniff of where it was hiding. This thing was beyond good. The only reason that we were able to get it was when it broke cover. It only revealed itself when you, and the others, appeared.”

“But why would it be after me?”

“Why do you think you’re here, Niall?”

Niall opened his mouth to answer then shut it again. Why was he here? “I don’t know.”

Devon’s shoulders slumped. “And that’s the right answer. None of us know why we were brought here. We don’t know who did it and we don’t know how they did it. We heard The Deathless One talk to us and we were all told the same thing: we had to get back. The thing is, the L’Fae know more about The Deathless One but they won’t share it with us.

“What we have been able to deduce it that there’s some other force at work as well. Someone, or something, doesn’t want us here. We don’t know if it’s the Bulvine for some reason, but whenever one of us arrives, there’s an attempt to kill us. It happened to me, it happened with Patrick, and he told me that it happened to those that came before him. If you need proof. I buried three people in the month before you arrived. That Bulvine Warlord got to them before us.”

“So, there’s going to be a target on my back for the rest of my life?” Niall felt sick at the thought.

“No, it’s not as bad as that. You’re at your most vulnerable when you first arrive. Once the other transplant from Earth finds you, you get some direct protection. And, once you have a Fae shard, the Bulvine can’t track you remotely for some reason, so the attacks stop. I mean, obviously, if they can see you then they will still attack you, but whatever magical means they were using to track you doesn’t work anymore.”

“That’s a lot to take in, but I should be safe now, right?”

“Here, absolutely. Gwen’s in the woods all the time. Not a lot gets past her. I’m no push over either. As I said, your Fae shard also means they won’t be able to track you from a distance. No, the problem is Militia training.”

“Yes. What was that about?”

“Everyone has to do it. Think of it like National Service. A few weeks on an army base getting fitter and learning to use some weapons.”

“That doesn’t sound like a problem. In fact, knowing how to defend myself in this world sounds like a positively good thing.”

“If it’s anything like mine you should be fine. Three months of training then three months in the field. For me, being in the field meant tedious patrols around some lord’s lands. The only risk is if you end up somewhere with real fighting. Even with the gains you’ve made so far, you’re going to be no match for a bandit or a Bulvine. You do have an option though.”

“Really? Lord Chandris didn’t seem like the sort that would let me off.”

“Well, if you want, we can make you disappear. Gwen can get you out of Gwilliant and I can give you enough money to start a life somewhere else.”

“That seems a bit extreme.”

“Not as extreme as dying.”

“Thank you, but I’ll take my chances. To be honest, if I can get a bit fitter and learn how to use some weapons that is all to the good. I can’t just rely on you to bail me out all the time.”

“Fine. Well, back to work. At the very least you are going to need to put on more muscle if militia training isn’t going to be a nightmare for you.”