Marcellin, Baron of Ultas, had barred his gates to Lykos and the Vin Thalun, but equally he had seemed unmoved to take any action in defence of Tenebral. He lived to the north-east of the realm, on the edge of the Agullas Mountains, a long way from Jerolin and the events and politics of Tenebral.

‘I am glad to have contributed something of use,’ Fidele said. ‘How many men march with him? And how long before Marcellin reaches us?’

‘We don’t know the numbers for sure. Marcellin can raise a warband at least two thousand strong, and if he has gathered all those who were sent on postings from Jerolin –’ Peritus shrugged – ‘three and a half thousand swords at least, most likely more. As for time, it will take them a moon at least to reach us.’

‘Another moon for us to hold out here.’

‘We can do that,’ Lamar said. ‘We have the supplies.’ He looked to Ektor for confirmation, his son nodding.

‘Part of me says we should march out and show these Vin Thalun what the men of Ripa can do,’ Krelis growled. ‘We don’t need Marcellin to come and save us.’

‘We must wait,’ Peritus said to Krelis. ‘You have eight hundred swords under your command here. The Vin Thalun ranks have swelled, more ships arriving. They must have at least two thousand men out there. With Marcellin’s reinforcements we will crush them, give them the lesson they deserve. Unless, of course, our King Nathair returns to us unbidden.’ He turned his eyes to Fidele.

Nathair. Once, not so long ago I yearned for his return, thought that he would set me free of Lykos’ spell, give me justice. Now I am not so sure . . . Her gaze flitted to Ektor, who was watching her. Ever since he had told her of the prophecy, read to her from the giant scrolls in his chambers, a gnawing seed of doubt had taken root in her belly. What if Calidus is not Ben-Elim? What if he is Kadoshim? If that were true, then Nathair was in great danger. And the things Lykos had said, insinuated about Nathair. That he had troubles of his own. She did not hold out for Nathair’s return any time soon, and part of her did not want him to come back, for fear that her foreboding might turn out to be more than just the paranoid fears of a mother long parted from her child.

‘I fear that Nathair’s quest will keep him from our shores for a good few moons yet,’ Fidele said. ‘You must be patient, Krelis.’

Krelis lifted a cup and drained it. ‘Patience,’ he growled as he slammed the cup down. He sighed. ‘I know, you’re right. I’ve had enough of sitting on my arse, though. It wasn’t so bad when Lykos kept sending sorties against the walls. Kept me busy . . .’