‘And think, the God-War could be won in a single day. A single battle.’

‘Indeed. How far did you say they are?’

Rhin laughed. ‘You cannot bring them to battle this night. By the time you reached them it would be full night. On the morrow . . .’

‘The morrow,’ Veradis said, the words falling from his lips like a long-awaited promise. He could not suppress a smile. ‘This is all that I have dreamed of, for so long now. To take to the field against the Black Sun.’

‘And to win, I hope,’ she said with a sidelong glance.

‘Aye, and to win.’

‘Good. Then it would seem that your dream is about to come true.’

A smile spread across his face.

The sun disappeared behind hilltops, the sky turning to dark velvet as they stood in silence and watched. Campfires blinked into existence where the Black Sun’s warband had been, undulating across a far slope like a cluster of stars.

‘They may attempt to slip around us on the morrow,’ Veradis said, imagining being one of them, seeing his warband and the Vin Thalun ships arrayed before them.

‘They might,’ Rhin said, ‘and that would be a shame. Perhaps we should do something to ensure that battle is joined with the rising of the sun.’

Veradis marched along the hard stone of the giantsway. It was cold and dark, the heart of night wrapped tight all about him. There was no sign of Rhin’s scouts that were apparently ranging ahead, fifty of them leaving the fortress ahead of him, a protective screen picking methodically over the ground for any sign of the enemy.

I hope.

The tramp of his warband’s feet on the giantsway behind did a good job of obscuring his hearing, the only sense that was of any use in this inky darkness. Nevertheless he strained his ears, trying to pick out sounds from ahead, not an easy task.

This was a mistake, he thought, not for the first time since leaving Uthandun’s walls. Walking into an ambush was not a pleasant thought.

It had seemed like a wonderful idea when Rhin suggested it, full of deep cunning: a forced march before dawn, not seeking battle, but to be close enough to give the enemy a surprise and no room for retreat when the sun rose.

No room for escape.

Now, though, all the dangers and potential disasters loomed tall in his mind.

What if they can hear us coming and are flanking us even now? He glanced down at his feet, boots wrapped in lamb’s wool, the same as every other warrior behind him. It made a remarkable difference; usually the tramp of two thousand warriors on a stone road would have been close to deafening. Still, they were not silent, and every sound seemed magnified in this darkness.