Infayen shrugged. The only title of interest to me shall be mine. Infayen Menand, Slayer of the First Son of Darkness. A chance shifting of her gaze caught Sheltatha Lore’s eyes fixed upon her. After a long moment, Tathe’s daughter smiled.

Infayen’s unease was momentary, and quickly forgotten with the arrival of Lord Urusander.

Their commander was not one for speeches, but Infayen felt the sudden rise of excitement and anticipation. It was finally coming to pass. We march to Kharkanas, and there will be justice.

* * *

They had managed only a hundred and fifty wicker shields, so Captain Hallyd Bahann paired up his three hundred soldiers, one to bear the shield and the other to wield weapons. The forest line ahead was patchy, broken up by the vagaries of fire and stumps left by past cutting. The snow on the ground looked dirty, crusted and hard and not yet softened by the morning light.

The morning light. Such as it is. What goddess is she that invites gloom? That dims her realm, as if we were all on the edge of losing consciousness?

He was still flush with his triumph at the monastery, though the victory had proved bloodier than anticipated. Sending the children out on to the south track to walk to Yedan panged him somewhat. The winter was reluctant to yield its bitter harvest of cold and snow. But they had been warmly clad, dragging sleds on which provisions had been stored. If they didn’t lose the trail, they would already be at the monastery, warm and safe.

Necessities in war are often cruel. I could hardly take them with us, not with a true battle looming.

These cowardly Deniers, with their bows and ambushes – we will have them.

And, if our luck holds, we may well find Sharenas Ankhadu among them, drawn into their company by shared crimes. Traitors will flock.

Lieutenant Arkandas strode up to him and saluted. ‘Sir, we have been seen.’

‘Good,’ Hallyd snapped. ‘If necessary, we will drive them to the river’s edge.’ They would leave the horses behind, guarded by a half-dozen soldiers. He expected a running battle, quickly mired by the uneven ground, the deep snow and the wreckage of the mostly ruined forest.

Old fire set a stench upon the land that even time struggled to expunge – some caustic residue of burned sap, perhaps, or simply the reek that was born of destruction. Violence was a stain upon the earth. And yet, Hallyd took note of his white hands as he tugged on his gauntlets, crimes leave no stain upon the skin, nor mark upon the face. From this we are to take meaning. Absolved, the crimes cease to be. Blessed, the face is made innocent once again. ‘Lieutenant.’

‘Sir?’

‘Ready the line. We will advance to the trees.’

‘Our scouts report many Deniers awaiting us, sir.’

‘I should hope so! True, it’s a rare courage. Let us take advantage of it, shall we?’