The humans had gathered at the shore by the time Kalb and Schaf reached the far side of the lake. Schaf crouched, keeping his furry hump below the reeds while Kalb hid in the shadows. “That’s him,” Kalb said. “The big one. That’s Wulf.”

Wulf wore an iron breastplate over a vest of steel mail. Bossed metal covered his forearms and shins. At his feet lay a helmet studded with decorative brass.

Schaf asked, “What’s he doing?”

“Getting ready.”

“For what?”

Wulf slipped the helmet over his head, securing it with a heavy clasp that crossed beneath his chin.

“Swimming,” Kalb said.

“In all that armor?” Schaf frowned. “He must have scitte for brains.”

“Yeah. He’s got that. But the big problem is his mouth. Last night he told the warriors about a swimming race he was in. He claimed he swam in full battle gear.”

“Did he say he did well in this race?”

“No, but he said he would have if monsters hadn’t stopped him.”

“Did he kill these monsters?”

“Yeah. He said that’s why there’re no more monsters in the ocean. He killed them all.”

“And the warriors, they believed these lies?”

“Yes. Completely. And now they want him to go into the lake and kill Modor and Grenja.”