Corban put the hilt in Tukul’s hand, closed his fingers around it – he looked away to hide his sorrow. He was Tukul’s Bright Star and he would stay strong for him in his last moments. No matter what it cost him.

Footsteps sounded on the steps behind. Meical was standing silent, looking down upon them.

‘Gar, my beloved son,’ Tukul whispered, ‘you are my joy.’ Tears dripped from Gar’s nose. ‘Never forget that. I’ll see you again, on the other side,’ Tukul breathed, then with a sigh he was gone.

CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

VERADIS

Veradis stood at the prow of the ship and watched the coast of Tenebral pass him by.

I grew up on this coastline. He closed his eyes and thought of sailing with Krelis, dolphins chasing their ship as it cut through the water. Krelis laughing. Krelis is always laughing when I remember him. Of swimming in the bay of Ripa, sunning on rocks, drinking wine, sparring on the beaches that ringed the bay. Krelis always laughed at that, too. How I’d not give up until I was on my back, him a giant and me little more than a bairn.

He opened his eyes as the ship shifted beneath him. Alazon was yelling commands; ropes on the sail tightened and loosened, and then the dip and bite of oars. Before them a bay opened up in the coastline, deep and wide, high cliffs dipping towards sandy beaches.

The Bay of Ripa.

Home.

They passed from the open sea into the bay’s sheltered embrace, behind them fourteen black sails following their course.

There was already a host of black ships in the bay, clustered about the port of Ripa, more spread throughout its waters. Veradis spied other ships amongst them. More like the corpses of ships. They were ruined and fire-blackened, hulls upturned and wallowing. Ripa’s ships. He frowned at that. Beyond them, rising high upon gleaming limestone cliffs Veradis saw the tower of Ripa, built by giants, conquered and claimed by men, now the home and symbol of the Lord of the Bay.

My father.

What am I doing here? The weight of his task came crushing down upon him, the sun-tinged, halcyon glow that had filled him turning to iron-grey clouds, heavy with impending doom. His mind returned to Calidus pulling him to one side on the banks of the Afren in Narvon, just before he had set sail.

Bring me Fidele, in chains if needs be.

Veradis had not believed it, or that she had wed Lykos, and he had said as much, had questioned Calidus’ information, but the silver-haired counsellor – and Ben-Elim – had been adamant.