‘I’ve taken this ship, killed those who enslaved you.’ He worked his way down an aisle between the benches, hacking at the chains, splashing through liquid that Tukul suspected wasn’t river water. ‘You are free to go, if you wish, or row a little longer and be set ashore somewhere else.’ He glanced out of one of the oar-holes. ‘This is not the safest place to be stranded. Tukul, make sure they understand what I have said,’ Corban muttered as he turned and climbed back up towards the light.

Tukul ordered barrels of water brought down and made sure the rowers all had their fill, though slowly. One man gripped his wrist. He was short and wiry, with skin that was olive dark, like the men from his homeland in Tarbesh. His eyes burned brighter than the others’.

‘What’s your name, brother,’ Tukul said to him.

‘Javed,’ he whispered after a long pause, as if he were struggling to remember.

‘Some water for you,’ Tukul offered a jug from the barrel. Javed drank noisily.

‘Is this a Vin Thalun jest?’ Javed said, water dripping from his beard. ‘Another entertainment?’

‘No. You are free, as my lord said.’

‘What’s the catch? You’ll kill us if we try to leave?’

Tukul shook his head. ‘Leave if you wish, there will be no punishment from us.’ He peered through the nearest oar-hole, heard horns ringing from the nearby fortress. ‘Though I cannot guarantee the reception you’ll receive from them.’

The man peered through the hole.

‘You’re welcome to stay.’

‘Where are you going?’

‘East,’ Tukul said.

‘East is not the ocean,’ Javed snorted. ‘Now I know you are playing with us.’

‘I speak the truth,’ Tukul replied calmly.

Javed stared into Tukul’s face. ‘Think I’ll stay a while,’ he said.

East to Drassil. How quickly plans can come undone.

Corban had turned pale when he’d seen the warband and fleet arrayed about Uthandun. They hastily made camp and Corban had summoned his war council – Meical, Tukul, Gar, Balur, Ethlinn, Brina and Coralen.

Corban sat in a camp chair with his head in his hands. Craf flapped down from the sky and perched on the arm of Corban’s chair.

‘Cheer up,’ the crow squawked. He had taken to following Corban everywhere since the plan against Kartala the hawk had succeeded.

‘Options,’ Brina had snapped at Corban, making him jump and lower his hands.

‘What?’ Corban said.

‘There are always options,’ Brina answered.

With a deep indrawn breath he visibly gathered himself. ‘What are they?’ he asked.

‘Fight.’

A humourless smile. ‘Not a good idea. There are thousands of them. We are outnumbered.’

‘Run away.’

‘Better for us. I’d like to, but where? All routes to Edana are blocked.’

‘Run north – retreat, in other words,’ Brina said.

‘And run into Calidus, Nathair and a thousand Kadoshim,’ Tukul pointed out.

Corban shook his head. ‘We’ve tried that already. Not appealing.’