‘Well enough,’ Braith said. ‘My legs aren’t what they were, yet. That’s why I’m sitting here; had to stop for a breather.’ His mouth twisted in a rueful smile. ‘But nothing a few good meals won’t change. Don’t think my aim’ll ever be as good, though.’ He rolled his shoulder and grimaced. ‘Something I’d like to thank Camlin in person for.’

Rafe nodded. He had a few scores of his own that he’d like to settle.

A noise rose up beyond the archway to the keep, a crowd gathered. Many were marching through the gates.

‘What’s that all about?’ Rafe asked.

‘Rhin’s making an announcement at sunset,’ Braith said. He glanced up at the sky and stood. ‘Lend me your shoulder and let’s go and see what she has to say.’

Rhin was standing at the top of a dozen steps before the gates to the keep. She looked regal and imposing in her sable cloak edged in rich embroidery, a torc about her neck and golden thread wound through her silver hair. Conall stood one side of her, glowering at the crowd, Geraint the other. Rafe saw Veradis standing lower down, on a level with the crowd, but apart. A dozen or so of his eagle-guard were with him, looking fine in polished cuirasses of black and silver.

‘I’m not one for grand speeches so I’ll make this quick,’ Rhin began, the crowd quietening almost instantly. ‘There are unsavoury forces at work in this realm that are determined to stay rooted in the past, and in the process cause me some irritation. The past is not always good, by the way. In the case of Domhain the past involved a senile, lecherous old King and his selfish bitch of a young whore wife.’

Mutters rippled around the crowd, some laughter as well.

‘I like to say things as I see them – something you will no doubt become accustomed to. Anyway, this unsavoury element that I speak of amongst you: it has come to my attention that they are keen for Halion ben Eremon to sit upon the throne of Domhain. Now, you already have Conall, the brother, and a very fine King he is proving himself to be, too. So why be so greedy?’

Some more laughter.

‘You malcontents out there will have to make do with Conall, for two reasons. First, because, in case you have forgotten, I have conquered Domhain. Defeated its warbands, seen your King take his life rather than face me, and so I get to choose who I put on your throne. That’s the victor’s right.

‘Secondly. Halion will be unable to sit upon your throne, because as of this time on the morrow, his head will no longer be connected to his body.’

There were gasps at that, some widespread muttering, and still some laughter. Conall took a step back, eyes wide, but he quickly composed himself.