He took his hand away from Rhin’s shoulder, the black mist coiled within his grip, looped about her neck. He clenched his fist, the mist contracting. Rhin’s hands grasped at her throat, passed through the mist, clawing her own flesh. Her eyes bulged, flesh turning red, then purple. She threw herself about in the chair but Calidus wrenched her back, put a hand in her hair and twisted, holding her still.

‘Never. Ever. Fail.’

There was a knock at the door and Calidus stepped away from Rhin, opened his palm and with a hiss the black mist evaporated. Rhin collapsed to the table in a fit of coughing.

Calidus walked back to his seat, adjusted his cloak, then sat.

‘Compose yourself,’ he said to Rhin, who pulled herself upright in her chair, dragging in deep breaths. Slowly the rise and fall of her chest calmed. ‘Enter,’ Calidus called out.

The door opened and Veradis stepped in. He looked solemn, almost guilty.

He feels the shame of defeat, also, Uthas realized.

Nathair stood as Veradis entered the room. At the sight of Nathair a grin broke across Veradis’ face and Nathair smiled in return, the expression looking out of place on his face.

That is a deep and genuine friendship. I have not seen Nathair smile since before Murias.

Veradis took a few long strides and dropped to one knee before Nathair.

‘My King,’ Veradis said.

Nathair stood there, looking down at his friend in silence, his smile slowly fading. A shadow crossed his face. He glanced at Calidus, adjusting his expression to cold inscrutability, and then he put a hand on Veradis’ arm.

And now we shall see how deep your oath to Asroth is rooted.

‘None of that, old friend,’ Nathair said, pulling Veradis upright. The two men embraced; Veradis took a step back, looking into Nathair’s face. He frowned.

From the corner of his eye Uthas saw Calidus’ hand slip to the hilt of a knife at his belt.

CHAPTER FORTY

VERADIS

‘What’s wrong?’ Veradis asked.

At first Veradis had been focused only on Nathair, consumed with the sense of relief that always flooded him whenever he was reunited safely with his King. But as that started to melt away he became aware of something else. There was a tension in the room, the air heavy with it. Rhin was sitting with eyes downcast, Calidus straight-backed, lips a tight line beneath his close-cropped silver beard. Sumur and Uthas the giant were shadows outlined by sunshine through an open window. And Nathair. He looked gaunt, a strain in his features that spoke of more than weariness at the end of a long road.

‘Wrong? Nothing,’ Nathair said. ‘We have the cauldron, a dream of many years fulfilled.’ He smiled, but to Veradis’ mind it looked weak, somehow. Empty.