Chapter 5
The Morning of the FuneralOne morning, at dawn Thyloss was awakened by bustle and noise; shaking his head to free it from the clinging web of sleep, he suddenly realized that this was the day of the funeral, the day his skill and cunning were to be pitted against that of the Black Thunderer and the Queen.
‘Thyloss,’ somebody called urgently. ‘Thyloss!’
He scrambled up, fastening on his short kilt and his sandals almost as he moved across the room. One of the boys who looked after the Thunderer was in the yard, agitated and sweating.
‘Come and see,’ he was crying. ‘Come and see!’
Thyloss followed him at once. Whether it was good or bad news he could not establish from the lad’s excited babbling. But when he reached the pen, and pushed past all the people who had gathered arou
