"And who the fuck are you?" The tinker chief arched unimpressed eyebrows. "Coming in here like d'is."

"Your son-in-law."

"My son-in-law?"

"Although this isn't exactly a social call."

Had Callm said it was, and to break open the whiskey bottle, the tinker chief could not have looked more surprised if not, accommodating. Ewen McDunnagh somehow here in his fortress?

That day Callm had stood on the castle doorstep and cut what throats remained of ...