‘Many speak of peace, yet their hearts are torrid and vile. Their one love is violence, the slaying of enemies, and in the absence of true enemies, they will invent them. I wonder, how much of this hatred for Draconus comes from base envy?’

‘I have wondered the same,’ Sharenas admitted.

They rode on for a time then, silent. The caustic air, so near the as yet unseen Vitr, burned in the throat, made raw the eyes. They passed the carcasses of slain wolves, the beasts scaled rather than furred, and though only days old already the hide was crumbling, the jutting bones gnawed by the very air.

Deep into the night Bered called a halt. It was a wonder to Sharenas that the Wardens had managed to follow a trail this long. Now the captain dismounted and walked back to her and Tulas. ‘Here, Finarra Stone emerged from among the rocks, coming from the shore. Her steps were laboured, her stride unsteady. We will rest here, as best we can in this foul atmosphere, and approach the Vitr with the dawn. Lady Sharenas, Lord Tulas, will you join us in a meal?’

* * *

The sun was like a wound in the sky, reflecting dully on the tranquil surface of the Vitr Sea. They were arrayed in a row upon the high bank, looking down through a scatter of pocked boulders. Just up from the shore sprawled an enormous, headless carcass. Close to it was the mangled remains of Finarra Stone’s horse.

‘She spoke true, then,’ Sharenas said. ‘But how is it that a creature with its head cut away was able to live on, much less launch an attack?’

Bered, his face pale and drawn tight, dismounted and closed a gauntleted hand on the sword at his belt. ‘Selad, Stenas, Quill, walk your horses with me. Lances out.’

Tulas grunted and then said, ‘Captain, the beast is clearly dead. Its flesh rots. Its organs are spilled out and sun-cracked.’

Not replying, Bered set out down the makeshift trail between the boulders. The three named Wardens accompanied him, each picking his own path.

Tulas slipped down from his horse and followed the captain.

Pulling her gaze away, Sharenas stared out upon the Vitr. Its placid mien belied its evident malice. Rising on her stirrups, she scanned the length of shoreline, first to the west, and then to the east. She frowned. ‘There is something there,’ she said, and then pointed. ‘A shadow, half in, half out of the water. No boulder could long survive that.’

One of the Wardens near her, second in rank behind Bered, guided his horse down to the left, out on to the strand. Sharenas glanced back at Bered and the others. They had reached the two carcasses, and Bered, sword sheathed, was pulling loose the saddle from the dead horse. He’d already retrieved Finarra’s weapons and delivered them to one of his Wardens. Tulas stood a few paces back, watching.