Anomander glanced across at him. ‘An Azathanai accompanies me. In singular purpose, bound by vow, he has yet to reward me or my patience.’

A suspicion whispered through Gripp Galas then, and he frowned. ‘What befell Dracons Keep?’

Anomander drew breath as if to make retort, only to instead return his gaze to the stars, and release a long, weary sigh. ‘Then I will see my first invitation to him as yet another weight of burden upon the High Mason, and his efforts that followed. That said, he did indeed warn me: his magic is anything but subtle, when unleashed in fullest fury.’

‘For that reason alone, milord, I am glad to know nothing of the taint.’

‘Forbearance mitigates the Azathanai, and with good reason, as you say. But then, by my cajoling, I saw his power awakened.’ He paused, and then continued, ‘If such a thing is within Hunn Raal’s reach, then I fear that in the meeting of our two armies we shall fall like wheat before the scythe.’

‘Yet the Azathanai chooses to stand at your side, milord. Bound by vow, you said.’

‘He offers me an end to this civil war.’

‘By wise words, milord, or wilful destruction?’

‘It is my thought that he is undecided.’

The chill of the night had reached Gripp’s bones now. Shivering, he drew his cloak tighter about his shoulders. ‘You keep him within sword’s reach, then.’

‘Gripp Galas, you shall not attend this battle.’

‘Milord—’

‘Must I command you again?’

‘My wife will be there, commanding her Houseblades.’

‘Convince her otherwise.’

At a loss for words, Gripp said nothing.

‘Her uncle is a fine commander,’ Anomander said. ‘Take her away, Gripp. Take both of you away.’

‘She would never forgive you,’ Gripp whispered. Nor would I. After a moment, while Anomander remained silent, Gripp cursed himself for a fool. Of course he knows that. And accepts the bargain, to see us live.

Neither speaking, both men turned about, to retrace their way back to the camp.

* * *

Pelk watched the Azathanai move away, presumably heading for his bedrolls. She glanced at Ivis a moment, before crouching to hold her hands closer to the fire.

‘You chose not to return to the Legion,’ Ivis observed after a moment.

‘So it seems,’ she replied.

‘Spared yourself this pogrom against the Deniers.’

‘I did.’

‘The Deniers have begun to fight back.’

She nodded.

‘Pelk.’

‘It’s done with, Ivis. It was a fine season, with misery on all sides, while our private island gave us refuge. Any storm can sweep the sand away. As it did to our blessed idyll. I have no regrets.’