Clever words, Havaral conceded, to so probe old wounds.

‘Ready lances and prepare to advance. Captains Havaral and Shalath, flanks will rise to canter and then swing inward at the blue flags. We’ll trap those skirmishers and be done with them.’

Havaral gathered his reins. ‘To our troop now, sergeant. Trust this will be well timed, as I see the pikes now on the move.’

‘They yield the crest,’ Kullis said, as they set off for the flank units.

‘The slope suffices.’

‘And less winded our mounts upon reaching them!’

Nodding, Havaral said, ‘They see the wooden cladding and imagine our horses lacking in endurance. They are in for a surprise, sergeant.’

‘That they are, sir!’

‘Ilgast Rend was a soldier,’ Havaral said. ‘Remember that – battle is no stranger to him.’

‘I’ll watch for the blue flags, sir.’

‘You do that, sergeant.’

They arrived opposite their troop, wheeling forward just as the command to advance was sounded. ‘ ’Ware your steps, Wardens!’ Havaral shouted, recalling the pitfalls on the slope.

Taking the lead, the captain began the descent. His mount wanted to canter rather than trot, but he held the reins tight and leaned back in the saddle, forcing the animal to take its time.

The skirmishers, each one bearing three or four lances, were spreading out. They seemed reluctant now, their pace slowing upon seeing the cavalry drawing closer.

From a troop to Havaral’s left, a horse screamed, tumbling its rider as it broke a foreleg in a burrow or rut.

‘Eyes ahead!’ Havaral snapped. ‘Gauge every step!’

Drawn by sweat and harsh breaths, the mosquitoes massed ever thicker as the Wardens made their way towards the valley floor. The captain heard comrades cough as they inhaled bugs. Curses sounded, but mostly the sound was of creaking armour, the thump of horse hoofs, and the gusting wind that slid beneath iron helms and moaned as if trapped.

Havaral left the slope and rode out on to the basin, at last giving the horse freedom to quicken its trot. His troop drew up behind him, keeping pace.

He had loved a man once, long ago now, and the memory of that face had been years buried. It appeared suddenly in his mind’s eye, as if emerging from shadows, as lively and enticing as it had ever been. Others crowded behind it, all the confused desires that had marked his adolescence, and with them came a dull pain, an ache of the spirit.

It was no crime to turn from the common path, yet it came at a cost nonetheless. No matter. The young man had gone away, unwilling to stay with any one lover, and his name had vanished from the living world after the burning of his village by Forulkan raiders. Whether he died or took for himself another life, Havaral knew not.

But now your knowing smile is before me. I only regret the end, my love, only the end.