Tom sat back. The present company intrigued him. He'd developed various theories about the warrior societies of his old realm. He guessed that, at one stage, social status was fluid. A certain sort of young man became a warrior just like a certain sort of young man joined football teams or bikie gangs. Success depended on the individual. That was why you had so many ancient sagas about heroes and monumental punch-ups. His new realm wasn't like that. An aristocratic class had developed.
The clan chieftains rode chariots into battle and flaunted their lineage. One after the other, they rose to express an opinion, reciting their ancestors. It wasn't sufficient to say you were Cronin son of Maldur. You had to go on and on saying who your grandfather was and his father before him. It was the sort of pompous behaviour Tom had met before. His new realm seemed so appealing at first. He was beginning to have doubts.
***
Alison hid in the tall reeds at the edge of the marsh and waited. Fury had gone to find his sister, Adrina, who had arranged to meet them with a boat. It was a long wait and she grew anxious. She was in a strange land amongst strange people and felt vulnerable without Fury. If he didn't come back, her position would be desperate.
Marsh birds flew overhead and fish rose to take insects on the surface of the water. It looked a very rich place: one where villagers could hunt and cast their nets. Fury said it had been like that but these were troubled times. The marsh was now a place where outlaws went to escape justice. His mother's people used to hunt them down but their forces were now directed at a more dangerous enemy. They were at war with a neighbouring tribe and didn't have time to chase criminals.
The sound of a paddle put her nerves on edge. Fury had told her to keep in hiding until she was certain who was coming. He said the outlaws were rapists and murderers and would do awful things to her. She kept her head down and peered through the reeds into a narrow channel. A shape appeared. At first she thought it was part of a large vessel. Then she saw it was a coracle. Fury was paddling and he had a girl with him.
She wasn't as Alison expected. Fury had spoken of his sister as some sort of fierce amazon. The young woman beside him wasn't armed. Her skin was pale. She wore an embroidered dress and her jet-black hair hung lazily about her shoulders. She looked like a rich girl on a picnic, not a warrior on a dangerous mission.