‘Tenebral,’ Atilius, the older man, said. He had the look of a warrior about him, close-cropped hair and beard, darkly tanned skin, solid and stocky, not an ounce of excess fat on his frame. There was something about him that looked familiar to Coralen.

‘How did you end up . . .’ Dath said, glancing back at the ships moored along the river’s edge.

Always tactful, Dath.

The two men exchanged a glance, a look of fear flitting across the younger one’s face.

‘Prisoners of war,’ Atilius said with a shrug.

‘War against who?’ This time it was Farrell asking the question.

‘The Vin Thalun,’ Atilius said. ‘The pirates you stole those ships from.’

‘Damn them to hell,’ Pax murmured. ‘Damn them to hell.’ He had a furtive, jumpy look to him.

Atilius patted his son’s leg, pain washing his features.

‘You’re warriors, then,’ Cywen said.

‘He is,’ Kulla said, nodding at Atilius.

‘We both were,’ Atilius said. His son looked away.

‘The warriors of Tenebral are our enemy,’ Farrell said, frowning. ‘Nathair is your king?’

‘Aye,’ Atilius said slowly, looking about at them. Cywen and Dath were sitting straighter, and Coralen was remembering the warriors she had fought and killed during the night raid on Rhin’s forces back in Domhain Pass. They had been men of Tenebral.

‘Eagle-guard,’ Cywen said.

‘Aye. That is what they called the best of us,’ Atilius said. His son was looking nervously between them.

‘Veradis. Do you know him?’ Cywen asked.

‘He is Nathair’s first-sword. A good man, or so I hear.’

‘Yes, I thought that, too,’ Cywen said, a distant look in her eye.

‘Are we your enemy, then?’ Atilius asked them.

A straight talker, at least. I like that.

‘To my mind, no,’ Cywen said. ‘But it is for Corban to decide. Should I consider you my enemy?’

‘No,’ snorted Atilius. ‘Nathair gave Tenebral’s rule to a madman – Lykos of the Vin Thalun – and then walked away on some mad quest. He abandoned his people to a lunatic. I want no part of such a king. If I were to fight, it would be against the Vin Thalun, whether they are allied to Nathair or not.’ He looked at his son. ‘But I don’t want to fight.’ He said it almost reassuringly. ‘I just want to find us some peace.’

Good luck with that. We’re marching knee-deep into the God-War.

Just then Javed walked past their group. He saw Coralen, his steps faltering for a moment as she met his gaze, then he walked on.

‘Heard about earlier,’ Atilius said.

‘Do you know him?’ Farrell asked, his voice dangerous.

‘Aye. He was a pit-fighter.’

‘What’s that?’