He walked now in the open, scanned the gently rolling steppe lands as he went. It was getting cold as night gathered. Then a light flashed on a distant hillside. He raised a hand to shield his vision. It came again from north of him, flashing and flickering on and off. A signal? He set out jogging in that direction.

He came to a long winding hillock, not too tall, but broad with steep sides. A figure rose from the deep shadows there and descended towards him. He went to meet it.

It was Lyan. She held out his weapons and gear. He took it all and re-girt himself. Dorrin rose from cover nearby and came dragging the two heavy packs.

‘So,’ Lyan said. ‘That went well.’

Kyle just made a face.

‘Your diplomacy skills at work again, I see.’

He merely gestured, inviting her eastwards.

‘Making friends all over the region.’

He let out a long breath. ‘Try to help someone and what do you get?’

‘No good deed goes unpunished.’

‘No indeed.’

‘Now what?’ she asked. ‘Just going to leave them to be ground down?’

‘They deserve it. I recognized them. Slavers out of the south. A city named Kurzan. I have a particular dislike of slavers.’

‘Slavers! In truth? Then they do deserve it.’

He took a pack from Dorrin. ‘Thanks, lad. You’re doing just fine, you know?

‘Thank you, sir.’

Kyle laughed. ‘Sir? You don’t have to call me sir.’

‘Oh, but I should,’ the lad returned quite seriously. ‘All champions should be called sir. As a sign of respect.’

Kyle’s gaze snapped to Lyan, who looked away as if disinterested, but he thought her face a touch flushed.

‘Who says I am a champion?’ he said, still gazing over the lad to Lyan.

‘Oh, I’ve heard the stories too,’ Dorrin continued, unaware. ‘From my tutors. They said that Whiteblade cut through a ship’s chain a thick about as a man’s thigh.’

‘A wrist, perhaps,’ Kyle conceded.

‘That the sword Whiteblade cut a goddess that none other could touch.’

‘That is true.’

Lyan seemed to flinch at that, reddening even more.

‘They said Stonewielder broke the Shieldwall – though many in Fist claim it was just an earthquake.’

‘It was he,’ Kyle said, his voice hoarse and faint, and he looked away to scan the hillsides.

Lyan cleared her throat. ‘That’s enough, Dorrin.’ Then, to Kyle: ‘This sea to the east … it is the Sea of Gold, yes?’

He shook his head. ‘No. It is another. It has many names. My people called it the Sea of Terrors. Everyone knows it is cursed. We will not go near it.’

‘Then … what is our route?’

‘North, skirting its shore.’

‘Then … we remain within the Silent People’s territory?’

‘No. I understand their territory ends just to the north.’

‘And who is next? What murderous clans?’

Kyle did not answer immediately; he shaded his gaze to the west, squinted into the sunset, glanced away. ‘We’ll need to find a camp soon.’