‘I never wanted her killed,’ Kyphos sighed, his shaggy eyebrows closing together over surprisingly sorrowful eyes. ‘But what is done is done. I’m sure you are wondering what is to become of you. You were important to us once. You may be important again.’

‘Nikolas . . .’ Dion whispered.

Shaking his head, Kyphos walked away.

‘This was your fault.’

Resting on the floor, with his back against the wall, Dion looked up sharply. Palemon stood outside the tiny cell, gazing down at him through the bars. He stood with legs apart, dressed for battle, with a chain shirt over his black trousers and the hilt of an immense sword poking up from behind his shoulder.

Dion climbed slowly to his feet, pleased that in the days since Kyphos’s visit he was now able to stand and at least look his enemy directly in the eye. ‘My fault?’ he said softly. ‘As surely as night follows day, her death can be squarely laid at your feet.’ His voice strengthened. ‘You killed her father. You brought her here, against her will. You got what you wanted from me, and all she wanted was to go home. Instead, when she ran, you put an iron bolt into her back.’

Dion’s eyes burned, but he didn’t wipe them, instead meeting Palemon’s stare directly.

‘One day, you will learn your place,’ Palemon growled. ‘And one day you will realize that it was your own actions that led to your woman’s death. Then, when you do, you will kneel before me.’

For a time the two men stared grimly at each other, until a clatter of footsteps echoed from the stone walls and a new voice broke the silence.

‘Sire,’ Kyphos said, his voice urgent. ‘Zara and the others are ready. It’s time.’

‘I leave you to your thoughts,’ Palemon said to Dion. Kyphos cast a glance in Dion’s direction, before Palemon followed the hunchback away.

As soon as they’d left, Dion gasped and immediately slid down the wall until he was once more on the ground. Standing for so long had taken a toll on his body. It would take him time to regain his strength.

He looked down at the hard stone floor, pondering. Palemon was right. He did have some thinking to do.

He remembered Isobel’s smile, and the way she’d boldly leaped into the cold pool at the waterfall. She’d been so nervous and excited to be carrying his child. But instead of being tended by the priestesses and being given warmth and love, instead of experiencing the joy of being a new mother, she’d suffered pain and horror, before her life was taken away from her.

Of course Dion blamed himself for failing her. He had replayed his attempted escape through his mind again and again, thinking about how events could have played out differently.