Anomander seemed momentarily confused. ‘Kharkanas?’

‘Milord, there will be a wedding. The details of peace.’

‘The details of peace,’ Anomander repeated. ‘But Kellaras, there is no peace within me.’

Kellaras said nothing.

Then his lord continued, ‘No, leave them to it. I will ride to my brother, to Andarist. I will yield vengeance.’ He turned then, giving Kellaras his full attention. ‘Her name is Pelk, yes? Perhaps, will she be returning there as well?’

‘I do not know, milord. It is possible. Do you wish me to accompany you?’

Anomander smiled. ‘I would welcome your company, Kellaras.’

Nodding, the captain collected the reins. ‘Now, milord?’

‘Yes. Now.’

Side by side, they set out, into the north.

* * *

Wreneck took little notice of the two riders who came down into the valley from the northeast. Instead, he continued walking among the corpses of the fallen Legion soldiers. The ground under them was torn and savaged, as if it had been chewed. He used his spear as if it was a staff in order to keep his balance as he stepped over bodies, crouching down every now and then to study lifeless faces.

Pain and death made them hard to recognize, and even the memories to which he clung were now blurred in his mind’s eye.

He was cold, and the night was strangely grey, as if trapped inside a cloud of ash that refused to settle. The dying horses had finally gone quiet. Crows came down like night’s tattered flags, and they too had nothing to complain about, yielding a silence to the field that seemed almost suffocating.

One frozen visage drew his attention and he made his way over to stand above it, looking down. Is this one of them? He might be. I have seen him before. Yes, this is one of them. Someone got to him first. But it doesn’t matter who got here first. It only matters who comes last.

I said I would avenge Jinia, and now here I am.

He brought the spear around and tilted the iron point down, edging it forward until it rested on the breast of the dead man.

I will stab deep. That’s all I need to do. His ghost is here. Close. I can’t see them any more, but I know they’re here. They have nowhere else to go.

Stab deep. Push the blade in, slicing through the leather, the wool, the skin. This is what vengeance means. What I’m doing right here.

Hearing a sound he glanced up. Two women sat astride horses made of knotted grasses and twigs. They sat in silence, watching him from a dozen paces away.

He didn’t know either of them. They didn’t match the faces he was looking for. Wreneck returned his attention to the dead man. He leaned on the spear, but the leather armour would not give. It needs a thrust. He drew the weapon back, and then poked it against the body.