Gray could see the front doors of the Hall - the ones that lead out to the town square - when Codder fell into step beside him.

‘Where we going, stray?’ he drawled. ‘Or should I call you dark horse, huh?’

Gray made himself keep going. He pushed down the urge to falter or to look up at Codder’s shadowed gaze and angled face.

One front door was propped open, letting in golden sunlight and brutal thuds. Someone screamed.

Codder lengthened his stride, and stepped into Gray’s path. Gray halted. His nose was inches from the tarnished buttons on Codder’s uniform.

‘You’ve been keeping some things about yourself mighty quiet,’ said Codder.

‘Get Killian,’ muttered Gray, sidestepping Codder.

Codder nimbly blocked his path again. ‘Get Killian,’ Codder said, mimicking Gray’s accent. ‘That’s awfully familiar of you, stray. That icy bastard allows this?’

Gray swallowed, his pulse thudding in his ears. An old woman shouted insults in northern outside, over the bodily thuds and clashes of iron.

Mrs Farrark.

‘Hair’s grown back, I see,’ said Codder. He lifted an almost finished cigarette to his mouth, completely unbothered. Ash fell onto his chest.

Gray made himself not react, despite the crawling sensation climbing over his skin.

He held his ground, his shoulders tight.

‘Had a trader come through just before,‘ said Codder, ‘asking for it.’

‘That’s fascinating,’ Gray said. Gray shoved him. He was in the damn way, and Mrs Farrark was screaming bloody murder outside, and gods, why was no one stopping the fighting?

Codder barely stumbled back one step. He angled his sharp jaw, sucking his bottom lip. ’See, stray, I was hoping you’d -‘

’Soldier!’

Killian’s voice broke over them like a whip. Killian stalked forward and stood inches from Codder. His immaculate uniform was backlit by the sunlight streaming in from the open doors. His fur collar must’ve been irritating in this warmth.

‘I didn’t touch him, Major,’ said Codder.

Time dragged.

Codder bowed his head as Killian stepped close.

Closer.

Codder was completely still, his shoulders drawn in.

Gray’s pulse beat hard. It wasn’t just Mrs Farrark screaming now -

‘Go and shut them up, soldier,’ said Killian, softly.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Shut them up?

‘Right you are, Major,’ said Codder.

If it had been Pickering, or Emwell, it might’ve been OK. But, not Codder.

’No,’ said Gray, pushing past them.

Codder reached for him, and Gray ducked, feeling the whipping wind of Codder’s hand just missing him.

‘Fuck,’ Killian muttered.

Gray burst out into the town square, blinded by the sunlight.

He was down the steps. He stumbled as his ankle buckled, his ankle hurt so bad it was numb, but he kept going.

Starting across the square, his eyes adjusting, he could see how the northerners were holding their own, shielding Mrs Farrack’s cart, gods, there’d be such trouble-

Gray was dragged back by a pair of strong hands. Codder swaggered calmly past him, down the Hall steps, flicking his cigarette stub away, and strolled into the panicked chaos of the town square.

Gray was slammed back into the darkness of the Hall. The timber wall was hard against Gray’s back. He could feel the decorative carvings through his sweater.

The ropey muscles in Killian’s forearm pressed against Gray’s throat.

Killian’s battle-scarred face came into focus. He couldn’t block out the sounds from outside. He screwed his eyes shut. Then, he drew in a controlled breath. ’What exactly do you plan to do,’ said Killian, ‘if I let you out there?’

’Stop,’ said Gray, ’stop Codder.’

‘You’re not going to stop Codder, kid,’ said Killian. ‘I trained him myself. Since he was barely older than you are now. I’ve practically raised him. He’d eat most of my men alive, let alone you. He’ll run this army one day. When he gets his shit together enough to pass the exams.’

‘I meant you,’ said Gray. ‘You stop Codder. Call him back. I don’t know - what I was trying-’

Men were running past them, out into the town square. They were a blur of grey uniforms and stomping military boots. Killian stayed immobile, using his body to block Gray from sight, his fist bunching Gray’s sweater, his forearm pressed against Gray’s throat.

Gray could barely think past the panic building within him. ‘You can stop him,’ he said. ‘Stop him. No one needs to get hurt because a man hit your soldier.’

‘You can be killed for touching a king’s soldier, kid,’ said Killian. ‘I saw. The notherner swung first. I back my men, you understand?’

‘Call Codder back,’ said Gray, panic screaming through him. ‘Call him back. He’ll make everything worse. If he kills more of them-’

‘No one’s killing anyone. I’d prefer to have the co-operation of these people. I’m not about to piss them off by idly killing them.’ Killian’s hold tightened. ‘You cool down.’

This was such bullshit. Codder was all wrath and no mercy. ‘You hurt them, you won’t get away with it. They will fight. You will pay.’

’Of course I will, kid,’ said Killian. ‘You’re real damn cute.’

The screaming stopped.

Codder must’ve acted.

Horror shredded Gray.

He was too late.

It was done.

They were moving, up the stairs. Gray allowed himself to be jostled along, in a haze.

They were in Killian’s room. Gray stood by the door as Killian locked them. He bent his face, pretending to struggle with the knot in his bootlaces.

‘What did you get from Longwark?’ said Killian.

Gray didn’t trust his voice. Fury burned through the shock within him. Keeping his head bowed over his boots, he shrugged.

‘I asked you a question, kid.’

‘Nothing,’ said Gray huskily. Gray fumbled with the knot on his laces. His fingers shook. His bad ankle was on fire.

Killian was standing too close.

Gray stopped pretending to try to untie his laces.

’So,’ said Killian. ‘You got nothing from Longwark?’

’No,’ said Gray.

‘Well,’ said Killian, ‘you’ll try again.’