This cave is no place for children. Nion, still recovering from the whisky and having his ear stitched up, raves that they are the toad-spawn of Winter Mist and Sean, then he promptly passes out cold. 'Daig simply turns a cold eye upon them before making a rude gesture and disappearing into the darker part of the cave. At first, Sean waves his hands in a flurry of fear which, of course, does not banish the little ones. It only makes them whisper among themselves in confusion. The horrified archer can only gape stupidly at Winter Mist and her companions. Keu glares out from his side of the fire, apparently unappreciative of his new nickname - Mór Lámh - and looks like he'd rather eat them than share any of our provisions with them.

Winter Mist is fiercely protective. They keep close to her while surveying their surroundings. I notice the boy's eyes cannily scanning each one of us then darting to the stony tunnel through which they entered, probably weighing a night spent with outlaws against a night of sleeping in the rain.

The bright-haired girl boldly launches a volley of questions at Keu. She is fascinated by his beautiful arm and I can't say that I blame her for that. Mór Lámh is not amused. With the firelight flickering below his face, his grimace of disgust makes him look monstrous. The wee lass cringes and hops back behind Winter Mist. Her piping little voice wrings my heart as she pleads for herself and her friends.

"We're children, you see, and we love a good story! We're cold and wet and a little hungry. We promise to be good."

I step between Mór Lámh and Winter Mist's soggy brood. "Come and sit by the fire, all of you! I won't let anyone harm you. Trust me. We don't have much to share - just half of a stale bannock, a small bit of rabbit stew, and I can make some hot, sweet tea for us. Come, dry your clothes and warm yourselves, have a bite to eat. I think I can even remember a good story that I used to like when I was a child, if you'd like to hear it."