'Many men need a woman the night before a battle,' said Fiallach. 'It helps to relax them.'

'I think he was planning to meet Braefar.'

'For what purpose?'

Govannan had shrugged. 'To forgive him, perhaps. Hell's teeth, Fiallach, I don't know. What worried me was that it sounded like a farewell.'

'You must be mistaken,' said Fiallach. 'Conn would never leave us at such a time. Gods, man, this is Jasaray we are facing!'

'I hope you are right, my friend,' said Govannan, 'because without him we'll not succeed. Don't misunderstand me – Bran is a great planner and you are a fighter beyond compare. But Conn brings his own personal magic. Every man fights harder when he is close. He inspires the men just by his presence.'

'He'll be with us,' said Fiallach.

But now the battle was under way, and there was no sign of the king. On the slopes far ahead the Stone advance had pushed halfway to the crest. Several thousand Rigante had been killed. Fiallach hefted his shield and slipped it over his arm. Signal or no signal, he would not wait much longer.

A huge cry went up from the right. The heavy infantry on the hillside were cheering wildly. Fiallach swung in the saddle. The lines parted and Connavar the King came riding through, his golden armour ablaze in the sunlight, his full-faced helm in place, his patchwork cloak streaming in the wind. Upon his arm was a shining shield of gold, that glittered so brightly it seemed the sun itself was riding with him.

'What did I tell you?' said Fiallach, relief flooding him.

Jasaray, hearing the roar from all sides, looked round to see Connavar riding his white horse across the battlefield. He shivered suddenly, even though the sun seemed to shine brighter in the sky for a moment. The feeling was exquisite. Jasaray thought about it for a moment, analysing the sensation. This was fear, he realized. How excellent it was. Jasaray's whole body felt alive.

Ahead the advance slowed as the Rigante hurled themselves with renewed vigour at the soldiers of Stone. One Keltoi, half his face sheared away, grabbed at a soldier's shield, dragging it down. A second Keltoi warrior leapt forward, plunging his sword through the face of the shield-bearer. The man fell back and the Rigante thrust himself into the opening, slashing his blade through the throat of a second soldier, even as he himself was cut down. The line closed, but the advance had halted. All along the line the Rigante fought with terrifying ferocity.

Heltian moved alongside Jasaray. The emperor glanced at him, and both men stared back at the Iron Wolves, and the golden figure riding towards their centre.

'A magnificent sight,' said Jasaray. 'Gaudy, but magnificent none the less.'

'Aye,' agreed Heltian, 'it makes the flesh crawl.'