‘You do not tell me what to do,’ Lykos snarled. ‘I thought you learned that lesson long ago.’ He stepped closer still, stopped a dozen paces away. ‘I hope that you have enjoyed your respite, because it is over. You are mine again.’ He looked at her hands. ‘I see that you have kept your collar and chain. Very helpful of you.’

‘To crush your skull with.’

Lykos sighed. ‘Need we go through this? If you resist, I will kill your son. I don’t need both of you – that is just a luxury, an extra surety. So.’ He looked between them both, saw Raina’s will wavering. He raised a hand and his men drew closer, spreading into a loose arc around the two giants.

‘Well?’

Raina’s eyes darted around the room, and she took a step closer to her son, part shielding him behind her. Lykos saw her eyes narrow and knew her answer. He drew his sword. She snarled and stepped forwards, hurling the collar at his face with startling power and speed, holding onto the chain, wielding it like a whip. He threw himself to the side, saw the collar crunch into a warrior’s face behind him, the man crashing to the floor in a gurgle of blood and teeth.

A Vin Thalun grabbed the chain, which in hindsight was a mistake, as he was pulled hurtling forwards towards Raina, grabbed by Tain and pummelled with a chair.

Lykos and his men rushed in, some jabbing Raina with spears. They knew, whatever Lykos said to the giants, that he would personally flay anyone who caused either of the giants’ deaths, so they were hesitant. While Raina was distracted with jabbing spear-points, Lykos sped in behind the furious Tain, who was still smashing what was left of a splintered chair-leg into the pulped head of his warrior. Lykos slashed Tain across the back of the leg and kicked him behind the knee for good measure, dropping the giantling to the ground. Lykos grabbed a handful of Tain’s hair and yanked his head back, resting his sword against the throbbing vein in Tain’s neck.

‘Hold,’ bellowed Lykos.

Raina froze instantly, then dropped her chain. Immediately the Vin Thalun were on them, tying their wrists with rope.

Footsteps echoed in the corridor and warriors walked in, a dozen, then a score, warriors of Tenebral in gleaming cuirasses with bright eagles on their chests. At their head strode the old man, Alben.

‘Step away,’ he said, eyes searching out Lykos. There was something about his stare that made Lykos wary.

‘They are my prisoners,’ Lykos said.

‘They are prisoners of war, agreed,’ Alben said. ‘But not yours. Veradis ben Lamar holds the highest rank here, and these are his men. He has ordered these prisoners taken into his personal custody.’

‘What? That is ridiculous,’ Lykos said.

‘Here are the orders, and his seal,’ Alben said, waving a scroll at Lykos.