Fíadh raises her eyebrows in surprise as Colin approaches but says nothing more. At least not until Lance begins walking away. Internally she's struggling: she should walk away, she should join Lance, she should help him figure out what to do next. But her rage has hit a peak and her knuckles are itching and white with the need to pummel this man in front of her. No one treats her people like this. These are her people now.

So she explodes.

"Is this how you lead, you engorged sack of shite? You toss your weight around when it fecks with one of your men but how about us? What about your soldiers coming in looking for a fight? If I hadn't handed them back their own arses on silver fecking platters what would you have done? Anything? Of course not, you'd be too damn busy ballocks-deep in your own arsehole to care otherwise!"