Number Five climbed down the castle wall. The raven kept watch from the top until Five reached the ground then flew to the well in the centre of the courtyard.

Five reached the well and crouched in its shadow.

'Your friend’s got the full attention of that redhead,' said the raven.

'I said she was a sucker for a pretty scumbag.' Five crept around the well until he could see the Forge and the source of the hammering sounds. There was a woman standing over the anvil, beating the hell out of something. She was tall and slender and her hair was tied up in a scarf.

'I thought she’d be bigger,' said Five.

'She looks pretty tall to me,' said the raven.

'I mean broader, heavier.' Five turned his attention to the keep.

It was a round tower with the entrance on the first floor reached by an external wooden staircase. There was no cover between the well and the stairs. He would have to rely on speed.

'I’m going to make a run for the stairs while there’s no one looking.'

'I’ll go first,' said the raven. 'Give me a ten count to get there. If you don’t hear me cawing like mad, make your run.'

Seconds later Five ran silently across the flagstones. He took the wooden steps two at a time then slid into the shadow of the doorway.

'What now?' said the raven, perched on the handrail of the stairs.

'You stay here. If anyone comes this way, make some noise. I’m going in.'

The only source of light inside the keep were ornate braziers filled with glowing coals. They allowed Five to see, once his eyes had adapted to the lower light level, but they also made the room oppressively warm.

It was a tall room with a wooden balcony resting on pillars shaped from whole trees. Under the balcony were display racks holding spears, swords and axes. Across the room, directly in front of the stairs up to the balcony, was a pair of chairs with the look of thrones about them. In the centre of the room, directly below a light well from the floor above, was a raised dais with a huge piece of carved wood on it. The chunk of wood had once been the roots and lower trunk of a giant tree, now turned upside down and hollowed out into a massive bowl. The outside had been carved into a pattern of interlocking serpentine beasts and flowering plants.

It had to be holding the cauldron.

Five crept to the edge of the wooden bowl and looked inside. It was empty. There were fresh scratches on the side and on the rim. Something had been removed recently. The wooden floorboards by his feet were splintered and dented. There were scrapes in the wood leading back the way he had come.

Something heavy had been levered out of the giant bowl, dropped on the floor and then dragged towards the door. Someone had beaten him here and stolen the cauldron.

'Motherfucker,' he said.

'You are too late, thief. Another thief was quicker.'

Five was suddenly chilled, as if he’d been doused with ice water. He looked for the source of the voice. A woman was coming down the steps from the balcony. She was pale with a sprinkling of freckles across her nose and unruly red hair, streaked with grey and wrangled into two fat braids. She was roughly his height but nearly twice his width and most of that bulk was muscle. Beneath the robe that she was pulling tight around her she had the shoulders of an Olympic weightlifter.

'I didn’t come to steal it. I came to use it.'

She strode up to him, covering the space far faster than he’d expected. He resisted the urge to back away from her. She grabbed his chin and looked into his eyes then turned his face from side to side as if examining his skin tone.

'So I see, thief. You are unlucky. My mother’s new handmaiden took it. Perhaps to keep you from using it? She also stole the Claidheamh Soluis* and several of my spears. I believe that she did not find the spear she was seeking but those she did find are dangerous enough.'

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'Please. Don’t call me a thief, honourable Sgàthach**, I haven’t stolen anything from you. Yet,' said Five.

Sgàthach laughed. The warmth of her laugh made Five smile in spite of his attempts to look serious.

'I like you,' she said. 'Perhaps I should marry you to one of my daughters?'

'A son, for preference, but without the cauldron I’m no good to anyone.’

‘This new handmaiden. Is she an enemy to you?’ She sounded doubtful.

‘If we’re talking about the person who poisoned me then she also killed three of my friends and kidnapped another. What do you think?’

‘I think that I know where she’s taken the cauldron. She’s going to my mother’s grove to battle another handmaiden for Mother’s favour. You do know who my mother is?’

‘Some of the stories say that you’re the daughter of the Morrigan,’ said Five.

‘If you dare to enter her grove then you might find the cauldron.’

'What do I have to lose by going there that I won’t lose by staying here?'

'A fine attitude,' she said.'If you would consent to be my guest I can take you to the Grove.'

Five wanted to leap on the opportunity but there were a couple of complications. ‘I would be honoured to accompany you but first I must make two requests.’

She rolled her eyes, 'It is fortunate for you that you have such a fine face. Go on.'

'The spear that the handmaiden was looking for, the one she didn’t find, I’ve a feeling that her opponent might welcome it.'

'Oh you are a tricky one. I may have to marry you myself to keep you out of trouble. And your second request?'

'Can we take my friend? He’s at the front gate distracting Uathach***.'

Anger flared briefly in Sgàthach’s eyes but her face softened into a grin. 'That girl of mine. Always so easily swayed by a pretty face and a few charming words. Let us go and rescue your friend before Uathach gets too attached.' She led the way out of the tower.

The raven, still perched on the rail, exploded into the air in a flurry of panic as Sgàthach charged down the steps. When Five followed her the bird settled on his shoulder.

'Are we in trouble?' said the bird.

'We’re fine. Although I might be engaged.'

'You people work fast. I thought that courting was tricky for humans but I’ve been watching your friend and I am confused.'

As Sgàthach hurried across the courtyard the blacksmith in the forge stopped hammering, put down her tools and followed them.

In the archway beneath the gatehouse two people stood locked together at the face and pressed so close that they looked like one person with an unusual number of limbs. Six was backed up against the wall of the arch. He had both hands buried in the woman’s glorious red curls. The red headed woman had her hands inside his shirt.

Before Five could call out to Six the woman unbuckled her belt and dropped it. She broke the kiss and whispered something in Six’s ear. She must have been persuasive because Six fell to his knees in front of her and grabbed for her buttocks under her chainmail shirt.

Five, unable to keep silent, coughed. The red headed woman spun around in shock. Six rocketed to his feet tucking his shirt back in.

'See,' said Six, 'I said I was looking for my friend.'

The woman stared at Five. 'When you said he had dark skin I thought you meant the other one. The big tall one.'

'How tall?' said Five.

The woman held her hand a good six inches above her own head. 'About so big and very wide. Dead. No eyes. Mother has been keeping him company.’

‘I am repairing him and his friend,’ said Sgàthach.

‘You can repair a man without making him a companion of the thighs,’ said Uathach.

‘I’ve not made a companion of his friend,’ said Sgàthach.

‘That would be more meaningful,’ said the Blacksmith from behind Five, ‘if the friend hadn’t been so clear about preferring to lie with men.’

'This friend,' said Six, 'was he a little shorter than the dark one with skin my colour and hair a very light brown?'

'And a hole in his chest where his heart should be?' said Five.

'That’s him,’ said Sgàthach

'But they’re dead. How can they be here?' said Six.

'Where do you think you are?' said Sgàthach.

'The people who sent us here called it Avalon,' said Five. He’d had doubts about that name but what did he have to lose. He felt a sudden stab of guilt at the thought that Six still had plenty to lose.

'That’s not entirely wrong,' said the Blacksmith.

'But it’s not entirely true,' said Sgàthach. She sighed and looked down for a moment. ‘Your people have given this place many names in the past. None of them are our names. To us this is just home. But to you, and those like you, this place is other. Some of you come here in dreams, or in trances and you think that you made it up. But when one of us claims one of you then you come here after death.’

'What do you mean by claim?' said Five.

'What do you mean by us?' said Six.

'Us is the Nine and their assorted courts and families and apprentices. And claim is complicated. It varies. But for now all that matters is my mother, The Morrigan, and her handmaidens, the Ravens. The Morrigan claims anyone who served beside one of the Ravens but also anyone killed by one,' said Sgàthach.

'That has to be awkward,' said Six.

'Sometimes,’ said Sgàthach, ‘but usually only briefly.'