They rode on, the sun sinking, the mountains that marked the border with Benoth looming closer. As the sun was melting into the horizon they came upon a thick stretch of woodland, to the east a fast-flowing river, to the west a gentle hill swathed with pine and spruce. An idea started to form in Corban’s mind. He stared back at the woods, remembering passing through them. A few leagues deep, and beyond them the village they had passed through. Can’t lead Rhin’s warband onto that village. He raised his hand and reined in Shield, the warband rippling to a halt behind him.

Meical’s right, I can’t just lead this warband winding all across the Banished Lands. And it is a warband; warbands are for war, sooner or later we will have to fight.

He turned and stood in his saddle, staring long and hard at the terrain about them.

‘We’ll make camp here,’ he called out, ‘and on the morrow this is where we’ll fight and crush Rhin’s warband.’

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

UTHAS

Uthas paused and gazed ahead. It was late in the day and the sun was sinking behind hills to the west. The mountain cliffs that had shadowed the pass they’d been marching through had gentled to pine-shrouded slopes, and beside them a white-foamed river carved a valley, widening into the green meadows of a flood-plain only half a league ahead.

‘Narvon,’ Calidus said beside him.

‘Aye. Once it was Benoth, as were all of the western realms.’

They moved on. Before them Nathair rode his draig, the lumbering beast scattering stone and gravel with each footfall, pine cones falling from shaking trees. Alcyon marched beside Nathair, a handful of the Kadoshim spread about them. Calidus rode close behind. His eyes were never far from Nathair.

He does not trust him, yet. Nathair had given no sign of rebellion, had ridden mostly in silence every day, any conversation he did participate in was usually with Alcyon. Time will be the judge. He will have to act upon his new oath soon enough.

The Kadoshim and Benothi were strung behind them: over a thousand men and women lending their strength pulling the wains. It had been hard going through the mountain passes, Kadoshim massed around each wain’s wheel, straining to turn them across the ancient and pitted road and through deep banks of wind-piled snow. They had made it, though, and now they were moving ever downhill, the road smoother and wider with every league.

‘I was a lord of western Benoth, once, governing for Nemain from Dun Taras,’ Uthas said.

‘How long ago was that?’

‘Six hundred years, give or take a moon.’

Uthas felt a prickling on his neck and turned to see Calidus staring at him.

‘You drank from the cup.’ It wasn’t a question.

‘I did,’ Uthas said, looking away. He didn’t want to talk about the starstone cup.