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Tadgemole. Tell him that Maglin is here for him.’
    â€˜Maglin?’ The scraggy creature shuffled a little closer, squinting into the light. ‘Be you a heathen?’
    â€˜A heathen? I’ll give ’ee . . . just you get back there and bring Tadgemole to me.’
    â€˜Goppo!’ The old dame turned and faded back into the darkness. ‘Gop! Shift thee bones, and goo and find Tadgemole. Tell ’un there be one o’ they heathens at the wind-’ole. Come to see ’un.’
    Maglin took a deep breath, but held his tongue. This was becoming ever more ridiculous.
    Eventually, just when Maglin felt that his patience was being made mockery of, Tadgemole appeared. The leader of the cave-dwellers was dressed in grey, as always, and, again as always, he carried that air about him of one who thinks himself a little above all others.
    â€˜Maglin.’ His greeting was cool, suspicious even.
    â€˜Tadgemole. I find you hale and well, then?’
    â€˜You do.’
    â€˜Only I thought perhaps to see thee abroad today. For the Queen’s passing.’
    â€˜She was not my Queen, Maglin.’
    â€˜â€™Twould have been a respect, though. Did she bring thee any harm?’
    â€˜No. Nor any good.’
    It was a poor beginning. Maglin understood that he was not to be invited further into the cave, for Tadgemole took a step forward and stood at the entrance with his arms folded. It was almost as though he were barring the way. Maglin could see others ofthe cave-dwellers now, a little knot of them gathering in the far shadows. He thought he recognized Henty among them.
    â€˜Yet you came to the muster of the tribes, Tadgemole, this summer last when Pegs were missing. And you allowed two of your own to join in searching for him.’
    â€˜I thought that a matter of importance. A matter that might affect the safety of us all.’
    Maglin let it drop. He was here to talk about the future of the tribes, not to argue. But first he would tackle that other business.
    â€˜You’ve a daughter,’ he said, glancing over Tadgemole’s shoulder. ‘Henty. ’Tis her wish to be joined to Little-Marten, of the Ickri tribe. And he to her.’
    â€˜Ah. And you are here to forbid it. Now that you are King, you think to have a say in these affairs, whether they concern you or not. I wonder that you bring word in person over such a trifle, Maglin. A lowling might have served as well.’
    â€˜I am Steward, not King, and I am here to grant leave, not to forbid it.’
    â€˜Steward or King, Maglin, you seek to rule – and to be one that may grant leave or not, at your whim. Well in this, at least, I have some say. And I do
not
grant such leave. Whilst I breathe, my daughter shall not be given to an Ickri heathen.’
    â€˜Tread warily, Tadgemole.’ Maglin felt his temper rising. ‘I’ll not be ridden far by one of your kind.’
    â€˜One of
my
kind? You come to this dwelling with aspear in your fist, granting
leave
that the highest of mine may be gifted to the lowest of yours – and you think it a fair match?’
    â€˜Aye – I think it a fair match!’ Maglin’s blood was up now. ‘The Woodpecker may never make an archer, nor even a fletcher like his father, but he’ve a position and a skill.’
    â€˜I know full well what his position is, Maglin, and where his skill lies. His
position
was to come crawling to us upon his knees, as a seeker of refuge in our dwelling when his own were like to hunt him down. His
skill
was to entwine himself about my daughter, when my eyes were elsewhere. I was fool enough to take him in, and my daughter was fool enough to listen to his wiles. As to being an archer – he could be ruler of the Ickri, for all I’d care, and my answer would be the same. He would still be an Ickri. And I’ll tell you this,
Steward
: if I see that young squab lurking about this place again,