‘Enough,’ Lamar said. He looked at Veradis. ‘We have come at your request, though I hold no hope for reconciliation here. Lykos has done too much, gone too far.’

‘That is yet to be seen,’ Veradis said with a sigh, taking his place at the table, opposite his father. He had thought he was ready for this, prepared. He realized that he wasn’t. He poured himself some wine.

I must resolve this. Redeem myself to Nathair for my failure in Narvon. He took a slow sip from his cup and focused, just as he did in the shield wall, when the shields cracked together.

‘There cannot be war in Tenebral,’ Veradis said. ‘We must find another way, and the fact that you have all come here shows me that you are willing to try.’

‘We are here out of respect for Nathair, the King,’ Lamar said.

‘That is a good place to start,’ Veradis said.

‘How is my son?’ Fidele asked him.

‘He is well, my lady. Weary. He has fought a long campaign, and come through many trials and battles. He has forged alliances, as Aquilus began before him.’

‘He has abandoned Tenebral to this lunatic so that a foreign king or two can put their names on a piece of parchment,’ Lamar said with a snort, gesturing at Lykos.

Veradis took a deep breath.

‘No, Father. He has done much more than that. He fights the God-War, is the Bright Star spoken of in prophecy, and he has captured a fearsome weapon, the starstone cauldron, one of the Seven Treasures.’

Lamar frowned at that.

‘He has it, then,’ Ektor said. He glanced at Fidele.

Fidele reached over and gripped Veradis’ wrist.

‘I fear for Nathair,’ she said, ‘I suspect he is in terrible danger. The company he keeps—’

‘Of course he is in danger,’ Lykos interrupted. ‘It’s not easy being the champion of Elyon. Instantly you have a very long list of enemies.’

This is heading away from the discussion. I must bring it back on course.

‘Nathair is well, and fighting hard not only for Tenebral, but for all of the Banished Lands,’ Veradis said. ‘But what you are doing here threatens to undermine all he has achieved. You must see that there cannot be open rebellion in his own realm.’

‘This is not rebellion,’ Fidele hissed. ‘This is saving Tenebral. Lykos—’

‘Lykos is Nathair’s chosen regent. You all know this. Nathair spoke those words to me not two moons gone. What you are doing here is treason.’

‘Well said,’ Lykos whispered.

Shut up. You are not helping.

‘Veradis,’ Peritus said, making an effort to keep his voice steady. ‘You do not know what has happened here, what Lykos has done. He killed Armatus—’

‘On whose order?’ Veradis asked. Had Calidus been misinformed? Surely it could not have been Fidele.

‘That is . . .’ Peritus glanced at Fidele.

‘On whose order?’ Veradis repeated.

‘Mine,’ whispered Fidele.