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trees themselves towered high enough to look like small skyscrapers. A couple of the pink birds she had seen earlier were walking about, plucking at seeds and insects in the grass. Every once in a while one would lift its head and trill out a whistling song.
    In the centre of the clearing a group of maybe ten or twelve Tremen were sitting around a roaring bonfire. They all seemed very merry, passing a leather gourd to one another and eating freshly barbecued fish. A couple of the Tremen were pounding out complex rhythms on leather-bound drums. Some were singing along and several others were dancing and cavorting about. They all cheered when the four of them came in sight. Charlie did a double take when she saw a familiar face.
    ‘Jensen!’ she cried.
    ‘Charlie! Wotcha doing here?’ he asked, clearly pleased to see her. His eyes took in her wet and dishevelled clothing and the big bump on her head. ‘I see ya’ve been in the wars. Everything all right, me little Hippotomi?’
    Before Charlie could reply the other Tremen began to badger Jensen.
    ‘Who’s she, then?’
    ‘Who’s the lass, Jensen?’
    ‘Yeah, who’s she?’
    Jensen waved his hands for silence. ‘All right, lads, dis is the little lady I was telling ya all about. Say hello ta the stompin’, stampin’ girl, me little Hippotomi, Charlie!’
    A large chorus of ‘hello’s and ‘hi’s greeted Charlie, who couldn’t help but grin. The Tremen were very welcoming and their good cheer and big smiles were infectious. Many of them tried to come up and ask her questions.
    ‘Stand back! Stand back, ya useless lotta weasels!’ shouted Jensen. ‘Let’s give her some grub and a chance ta dry out before ya all start bothering her!’
    Jensen led Charlie over to an empty seat, sat her down and got one of his companions to fetch a towel. The smell of the freshly cooked fish set Charlie’s stomach rumbling; it had been hours since she had eaten. Accepting a plate of the Tremen’s dinner, she tucked into it straight away, washing it down with a drink that tasted like fragrant vanilla, lime and raspberries.
    ‘Charlie, me lass, are ya all right?’ asked Jensen, obviously concerned. ‘That’s quite a big bump on yer noggin.’
    ‘My head’s OK,’ said Charlie. ‘I think it just looks worsethan it is.’ Seeing the worry in Jensen’s eyes, she added, ‘Really, though, I’m fine.’
    ‘Well, if ya be sure, but if ya don’t mind I’ll have Lentol look at it later,’ suggested Jensen.
    Charlie nodded, wondering vaguely who Lentol was.
    ‘So, tell me, lass, wot brings ya ta Bellania?’
    ‘Urm, I didn’t really have a say in the matter. I kind of got chased here,’ said Charlie.
    ‘Chased?’ said Jensen. ‘By who?’
    ‘By a really, really big giant with poor anger management and a whole load of black, hissing shadows!’ explained Charlie.
    ‘Big giant, black shadows?’ muttered Jensen. His face suddenly looked very grave. ‘Dis giant, did he keep his face covered?’
    ‘Yes, that’s right. And everything else was covered in black bandages.’
    ‘Bane!’ hissed Jensen.
    One of the Tremen sitting close by promptly fell off his seat upon hearing the name. Silence fell across the campsite and all the Tremen turned to stare at Charlie.
    ‘Bane? Who’s Bane?’ asked Charlie.
    ‘Bane, the Western Menace, is bad, bad news,’ said Jensen. He spat into the fire to prove his distaste. ‘He’s an evil thug with a thirst for power. And he’s been a right pain in the neck. He’s been closing down a lotta the trade routes, forbidding travel through the Stoman lands and amassing a huge army. He’s a bringer of war.’
    ‘Oh, he’s worse than that,’ cursed Kelko. ‘He’s an eater of flesh! Children from all three races have been sold ta himin slavery and then never seen again. It’s said he has an unquenchable hunger and appetite, with a particular fondness for bone and marrow.’
    ‘Stomen,’ asked Charlie.‘What are