They skirted the burning galleys of Ripa, larger, heavier and slower than any Vin Thalun galley. Lykos smiled at the sight, knowing how many ships the Ripa fleet had cost him while defending their coastline against Vin Thalun raiders before the pact with Nathair and Aquilus. It was very satisfying.

They moored the boat and climbed stone steps to the harbour. A group of Vin Thalun was standing on a pier, a hundred men, maybe more. Lykos walked up to one who stood before them, black-haired, beard oiled and clinking with iron like any self-respecting Vin Thalun. A scar ran from the corner of his mouth to his left ear.

‘Demos, it is good to see you, you old pirate.’ Demos was the closest thing to a friend that Lykos had. He had no interest in politicking, or in power, just lived for the thrill of riding the waves, of hunting on the deep blue. He was a shark, a predator, and a friend.

‘Less of the old,’ Demos grinned, ‘I’m younger than you.’ He held Lykos by the shoulders and stared at him. ‘Being a lord is taking its toll, I think.’

‘Aye. That and being stabbed in the back,’ Lykos said grimly.

‘Think you can do this?’ Lykos asked him, looking at the cliffs that Ripa’s tower was built upon.

‘Only one way to find out,’ Demos grinned.

‘I’ll go and draw their eyes,’ Lykos said. They gripped forearms and then Demos was jumping into a long rowing boat, one of five that were moored beside the pier.

Lykos strode into the town. He did not rush. Dead littered the streets, warriors of Ripa stripped of anything useful – weapons, armour, boots, cloaks. Vin Thalun gathered about him as he passed through the town, until a few hundred were massed at his back. As he climbed the hill to the tower he looked back out over the bay.

Vin Thalun galleys filled it, at least a score used in this strike on Ripa. Most had sailed around the coast and blocked the bay, burning the ships that were moored in Ripa’s harbour. An attacking force had landed as Lykos had sailed his own men down the river, another ten shallow-draughted galleys. Fifteen hundred swords, and another thousand crew on the ships, reserves if need be. His sources told him that old Lamar had no more than eleven hundred men at his disposal, and judging by the corpses on the street a good few of them wouldn’t be lifting a sword against him.