He looked at the gathering spread before him and knew that if they had any chance against the armies that were coming they needed to unite. And it was on his shoulders to make them see that.

‘I have seen the evil that comes against us, and it is terrifying. If we do not stand against it, who will? There is only one promise that I can make to you . . .’ He felt a lump in his throat as he saw familiar faces staring back at him – Cywen, Dath, Farrell, Coralen, Balur One-Eye, Gar – people he cared for. People he may lose.

What choice do we have?

He put his hand upon his sword hilt.

‘I will be beside you every step of the way and I will fight until my last breath.’

He shouted those last words, feeling passion swell in him like a dark wave. As he stepped down from the branch he was battered by a deafening roar from the crowd. Jehar and giants were brandishing their weapons in the air, cheering at the top of their lungs. And so were most of the others. The faces of oarsmen that had looked close to death only a few days ago, empty and listless, were now alive with passion.

And so it begins.

The marshlands were a flat, stinking, mosquito-infested wasteland. The river curled through it like a lethargic serpent, taking their eleven ships slowly eastwards. The oarsmen that remained all set to their shifts, and the ships moved ever closer to Drassil. Tukul and Meical had spoken to him, warned that such broken men could not be trusted and would need watching. But Corban disagreed.

They were men – warriors – once. It was not their fault that they were enslaved. I believe there must be honour left among them. And while I may only offer an uncertain future – it’s at least better than the certain death they faced before. Besides, I know what a driving force hatred and revenge can be . . .

Corban stood upon the raised rear deck of the lead ship, Dath at his side with one arm hooked around the steering oar. Kulla his shadow was loitering nearby.

‘We couldn’t have done this without you,’ Corban said to his friend.

‘I know.’ Dath grinned. ‘And I may remind you of those words.’

‘Dath is gifted in many ways,’ Kulla said. Dath blushed at that; Corban suppressed a smile.

‘But what would you expect,’ Kulla continued, ‘from one of the Bright Star’s closest friends?’

Corban blushed this time, and Kulla beamed with pride at Dath.

‘We will have to leave this river soon,’ Meical said. ‘It flows through the south of Isiltir, almost to the doors of Mikil, Isiltir’s seat of power. Jael holds Isiltir, now, and Mikil is his. We cannot go that way. To reach Gramm’s hold we need to join one of the rivers that flows north, to the sea.’