Horse hoofs thumped in the snow-laden grasses as Galar Baras rode up, reining in beside Wareth. The captain’s face was flushed with the cold. ‘Wareth!’

‘Sir.’

‘Your company is under my command, along with the seventh, the ninth and the third. We are to present the right flank.’

Wareth nodded.

‘Rebble will lead them down into the valley.’

‘We are to fight on this day?’

‘If Urusander seeks it.’

‘Dusk chases him,’ said Listar.

‘It chases us all, Listar,’ Galar replied, gathering up the reins once more.

* * *

Commander Toras Redone rolled unsteadily in her saddle, righted herself with an effort. Her face was slack, her eyes muddy red. A moment later, as Faror Hend drew up alongside her, the commander smiled. ‘Had I known today would be the day…’

‘You would have done what?’

Toras Redone’s smile broadened. ‘Level your tone, darling. And punctuate your query with a “sir”, if you please. Why, I would have rationed the wine, of course. It begins to sour in my belly, as voluminous as I have made it. Plenty of room left, it seems, for anxious thoughts.’

Faror Hend rose in her stirrups, twisted round and checked back on the column. Then she settled once more. ‘Your anxiety not sufficiently dulled? Sir? Not yet drowned? Thrashing still in that dark nectar?’

‘You are too sober a conscience, Faror Hend.’

‘You need not concern yourself with that much longer, sir, as my words are running down. Soon, my silence will give you its final cry.’

‘You surrender too easily,’ Toras Redone replied. ‘Will you yield your life as cheaply in the battle to come? Are you not betrothed to a war hero? Why are you not at his side? Perchance, he awaits us at the Valley of Tarns, or is that consideration the cause for your despondency?’

Faror Hend bit back a cruel retort, and said, ‘Kagamandra Tulas may well be there, the hero in search of yet another war.’

‘Against you, I wager he has no defence,’ Toras Redone said. And, as if she had somehow caught a hint of Faror’s unspoken retort, she continued, ‘He chooses the lesser trial, then. I well understand him, you know. Calat Hustain was always too bright a light for my dulled eyes, too upright in his virtues, too untested his forgiveness – no matter how egregious my crime. He weakened my knees, and to stand at his side was to tremble in the shadow of his piety. Is it any wonder I reached for a lover?’

‘Galar Baras deserves better.’

Toras Redone did not respond for a moment, and then she said, ‘I meant wine, of course. But she’s a generous whore, I find, quick to yield my flesh to someone else’s pleasures.’

Faror Hend closed her eyes briefly, willing a bit between the teeth of her fury.