“I did, too,” Éibhear continued to complain. “But apparently my father had other ideas.”

“It was either that,” Addolgar shot back at the boy, “or let Bercelak cut off your head like he planned!”

Éibhear, human and dressed in chain mail and the surcoat of some long-dead army, put his hands on his hips. “Why? Because I didn’t agree with the old bastard?”

“You’re a soldier!” Addolgar yelled. “You don’t agree. You don’t disagree. You follow orders!”

The boy raised his hands in th