‘You know I need the Treasures. They are vital to our plans.’

‘I know.’ Uthas tugged on his long white moustache, a habit when he was troubled, or anxious.

‘Do you know something that could help me?’

It is too late to go back now.

‘I have knowledge of two of the Treasures: the cup and Nemain’s necklace. I know where they were last seen.’

‘What?’ Calidus hissed. His hand snaked out and gripped Uthas’ shoulder. It was cold. ‘Where are they?’

Uthas took a deep breath and swallowed.

‘I would be king of all the giant clans, not just the Benothi. And I want Forn as my seat. As the new seat of the reconciled clans.’

‘That is a lofty dream indeed,’ Calidus said, looking at Uthas through narrowed eyes. ‘Your ambition exceeds even what I expected from you.’

Uthas shrugged. ‘The world is changing. Why not reforge something that was broken.’

‘Indeed,’ Calidus said with a calculating stare. ‘In return for the Treasures you speak of I will aid you in this. You have my word.’

‘I suspect your generals might disagree with you. Rhin, Nathair, Lykos – they will not be as enthusiastic to see the strength of the giant clans restored. I need to hear that assurance from a higher power than you.’

‘You would bargain with Asroth?’ Calidus said, raising an eyebrow.

Uthas shrugged. ‘Why not. I rolled the dice when I betrayed Nemain – I don’t think they have stopped rolling yet.’

Calidus laughed, a genuine warmth in it. ‘What is the phrase I have heard amongst men and giants? You have some stones, Uthas. I shall arrange a private conversation for you.’

Uthas felt suddenly scared at the thought. It’s done now.

The path led through woodland, the scent of pine strong in the air, the ground spongy with fallen needles. Cries rang out from ahead: the Kadoshim. Calidus kicked his horse on. Uthas lengthened his stride to keep pace.

They powered through shadowed woods and then burst into sunshine, Uthas blinking for a moment against the glare of daylight.

They were in a valley, the river flowing fast through its middle, meadows rolling either side into hills. Ahead of them lay a village, faint screams drifting on the breeze. A handful of the Kadoshim were running towards it, faster than Uthas thought possible.

By the time Uthas and Calidus caught up with them villagers were scattering in all directions, Kadoshim flooding the streets, crashing through doors and windows, killing anything that moved with a childlike glee.

‘I need to work on their discipline,’ Calidus said, glancing casually at a Kadoshim pinning a screaming man down, taking bites out of his throat.

‘They must learn to control themselves,’ Uthas said in horror. ‘They cannot behave like this throughout the Banished Lands – the whole world will turn against you.’