The girl’s brows lifted. ‘I doubt you learned such manners from your grandmother,’ she said, derision in her tone. ‘She showed no honour to Urusander’s Legion.’

Haral looked uncomfortable, but at a loss, so he said nothing.

Orfantal shrugged. ‘I did not know that my grandmother has dishonoured your family. I am sorry that she did, as you have shown yourself to be generous in Lady Tulla’s absence from the Hold. For myself, I still thank you.’

There was a long moment of silence, and then Sukul tilted her head. ‘Orfantal, you have much to learn. But for this night, I will take advantage of your innocence. Together, we shall leave the bitterness of our elders in their restless hands. Your kind words have touched me. Should the need arise in your life for an ally, you may call upon Sukul Ankhadu.’

‘When I am a great warrior,’ Orfantal replied, ‘I shall welcome you to my side.’

She laughed at his reply and then gestured towards the nearest cookfire. ‘Join me then, Orfantal, and we shall eat like soldiers upon the march, and woe to the enemy awaiting us.’

Her laughter had made him uncertain, but the invitation was like a spark to dry tinder, as if she had unerringly set fire to his imagined future, and would readily take her place in it. He looked upon her most carefully now, imagining her visage – older, stronger – wrought in bold thread. A face to one side of the hero’s face; a companion of years, loyal and sure, and as they strode past Haral and Gripp Orfantal felt that face, smiling and flushed, sink into his soul.

They would indeed be great friends, he decided. And somewhere still ahead, hazy and vague but dark with promise, awaited their betrayer.

* * *

They left the two of them to their own fire, and at first this had perturbed Orfantal. He was used to Gripp’s company and thought of the old man as a wise uncle, or a castellan. But this was a matter of blood and purity, and although the Ankhadu line was lesser, still it measured far above that of Haral, Gripp and the others.

There was nothing in what Orfantal had seen while in the company of these guards and traders to make clear this distinction in class. Roughness of manner did not suffice, as it was, in Orfantal’s mind, the way of the road for all travellers; and even Haral’s brutal treatment of Narad befitted the man’s insubordination.