On a rise a few miles north-west of the Rhesios Gate, Erlan looked down on Maslama’s army, his right hand resting on Aska’s head beside him. Diseased, half-starved, and surely demoralized after the brutal winter, the Arab host still looked a formidable force.

Two leagues to the north-west, hidden from view in a valley lush with spring grasses, the Bulgar horde was marshalling. Tervel’s thousands would be foraging for their horses, filling their bellies around their morning campfires, sharpening their steel.

The ride south from Pliska had taken a lot longer than the ride there. It took time to muster the many clans and tribes that had started to spread out into the pasturelands with the advent of spring. But word travelled fast, and met with no shortage of enthusiasm, and their number grew and grew on their steady progress south towards the Great City. Now Kosmesy had close to a hundred thousand of his own horsemen at his back. Now Leo had his army. And the hammer was about to fall.

From his position, Erlan could see Arab troops and siege engines filtering out of the gates through the eastern rampart of their camp, fanning north and south to take up position before the land walls. The huge fortifications stood as impregnable as ever – three thick tiers of red and white stone. His blood felt the familiar simmer of battle coming. His body felt as though it had fought a dozen battles already. His chest was a web of scabs, itching like a nettle rash. But he was still standing, he could still hold his sword, and he was ready.

Next to him Einar Fat-Belly leaned against his horse’s rump, gleaning the last scraps off a mutton bone saved from breakfast. He waved it airily to the south. ‘Someone’s getting ready for a fight, hey?’

‘Aye. But I’ll lay they aren’t ready for two.’ So far there were no signs that the Arabs feared any surprise attack from the west. ‘You’d think they’d have learned their lesson by now.’ Forbidding as the land walls appeared, Erlan couldn’t help admiring the discipline with which the Arabs took up their dispositions. From this side of the walls, the mass of troops looked damned menacing.