The bird hopped towards him. He froze. ‘That’s not one, is it?’ he said nervously.
Gulda gave a small jovial snort, and the bird flew off quickly. ‘No,’ she said. ‘Don’t worry. I think those eyes have been hooded for the time being. But do you remember about the one that Hawklan carried into Andawyr’s tent?’
Loman screwed up his face in concentration. Pushed into the back of his mind, it all seemed so long ago. ‘Gavor killed it, didn’t he?’ he offered eventually. ‘Or stunned it, or...’
As he spoke, he remembered the tale of Gavor and the bird falling from the sky and the two strange shadows in the mist. But it was too late.
‘Really, Loman,’ Gulda said crossly, her fingers twitching around the top of her stick. ‘How can you train your own Goraidin if you don’t listen to what you’re bein
