And here he was, daring to challenge them. Perhaps Kyky had been right to call him a fool. And yet the thought of the wealth that would tumble into his hands once he’d returned with the Ka Stone, the grand house he could own, larger even than his father’s, the army of slaves, the land, the adoration. A life like that was worth any risk.

One tent was larger than the others. It was set close to the fire so the flames would keep the occupant warm throughout the watches of the night. Though it appeared grey in the moonlight, Hui imagined it a sumptuous purple, a residence befitting whichever man was powerful enough to lead these scourges of the desert. A banner fluttered above it. Black stripes slashed across a field of colour. Blood red? That’s what he would have chosen.

Beside the leader’s tent was a smaller one, though still larger than the resting places of the fighting men. Surely that must be where the Shrikes kept their booty, close enough so the chieftain would be aware if any of his men tried to steal something for themselves. Then that was where they needed to go. He extended a finger, tracing a path to it among the smaller tents.

‘Please,’ Kyky hissed. ‘Let us think again.’

‘You are free to return to your mother,’ Qen said in a voice as icy as deep river water. ‘Let her wipe away your baby tears.’

Hui rested a hand on his friend’s shoulder. ‘This is not the time to back out, Little Monkey’ he whispered. ‘Not when the most glorious of prizes is almost within our grasp.’

Kyky’s face was ashen in the moonlight, his stare fixed. Would he be able to overcome his terror to do what would be expected of him? Hui wasn’t sure.

He thought back to that grisly display of the Shrikes’ hanging victims, and once again he was choking on the stink of rot.

Hui could feel his heart thundering inside him and that queasy knot in his stomach. His plan had seemed infallible when they sat in the shade of a canopy on the roof of his father’s house in Lahun.

‘We are not fighters,’ Kyky blurted. ‘We are fools who laugh too much and fall over when we’re drunk and always say the wrong things to the girls.’

He was right, Hui thought. But this was their one chance to become something else.

Poor, oft-bullied Kyky. Hui’s heart ached for him. How could he put his friend through any more misery than what he had already experienced in his short life? As they sprawled in the dust, he glanced at Qen.

Qen eased himself onto his elbows, his face burning with defiance.