There was such confusion among the group that none heard the slow approach of horses, until Corporal List grunted, ‘Commander Bult, we have visitors.’

They turned, with the exception of Coltaine and Sormo, to see half a dozen Crow horsewarriors surrounding an Ubari officer wearing silver inlaid scale armour. The stranger’s dark face was shrouded in beard and moustache, the curls dyed black. He was unarmed, and now held out both hands to the sides, palms forward.

‘I bring greetings from Korbolo Dom, Humblest Servant of Sha’ik, Commander of the South Army of the Apocalypse, to Fist Coltaine and the officers of the Seventh Army.’

Bult stepped forward, but it was Coltaine, now standing straight, his broken hand behind his back, who spoke. ‘Our thanks for that. What does he want?’

A new handful of figures rushed into the gathering, and Duiker scowled as he recognized Nethpara and Pullyk Alar at their head.

‘Korbolo Dom wishes only peace, Fist Coltaine, and as proof of his honour he spared your Wickan riders who came here to this crossing earlier today – when he could have destroyed them utterly. The Malazan Empire has been driven from six of the Seven Holy Cities. All lands north of here are now free. We would see an end to the slaughter, Fist. Aren’s independence can be negotiated, to the gain of Empress Laseen’s treasury.’

Coltaine said nothing.

The emissary hesitated, then continued. ‘As yet further proof of our peaceful intentions, the crossing of the refugees to the south bank will not be contested – after all, Korbolo Dom well knows that it is those elements that provide the greatest difficulty to you and your forces. Your soldiers can well defend themselves – this we all have seen, to your glory. Indeed, our own warriors sing to honour your prowess. You are truly an army worthy of challenging our goddess.’ He paused, twisting in his saddle to look at the gathered nobles. ‘But these worthy citizens, ah, this war is not theirs.’ He faced Coltaine again. ‘Your journey across the wastelands beyond the forest shall be difficult enough – we shall not pursue to add to your tribulations, Fist. Go in peace. Send the refugees across the Vathar tomorrow, and you will see for yourselves – and without risk to your own soldiers – Korbolo Dom’s mercy.’

Pullyk Alar stepped forward. ‘The Council trusts in Korbolo Dom’s word on this,’ he announced. ‘Give us leave to cross tomorrow, Fist.’

Duiker frowned. There has been communication.

The Fist ignored the nobleman. ‘Take words back to Korbolo Dom, Emissary. The offer is rejected. I am done speaking.’

‘But Fist—’

Coltaine turned his back, his ragged feather cape glistening like bronze scales in the firelight.

The Crow horsewarriors closed around the emissary and forced the man’s mount around.

Pullyk Alar and Nethpara rushed towards the officers. ‘He must reconsider!’

‘Out of our sight,’ Bult growled, ‘or I shall have your hides for a new tent. Out!’