She held his gaze, preparing herself for what she might have to do. She’d seen Rath and Baird put men to the question, but never done it herself. Torturing defenceless men was not something she’d ever aspired to do.

But we need to know.

She remembered what Rath used to say in times like this, and sometimes it had worked.

‘This is the end for you, one way or another. I’ll not make you false promises, offer you your life. You’ll not be seeing daylight again.’

She took a moment, let the words sink in.

‘What I will offer you is a quick end, no pain. No flaying of your skin, or breaking of your bones. No putting your eyes out, or holding a flame to your stones. No giving you to her . . .’ She looked pointedly at Storm, who was watching him with her fangs dripping red.

‘So I’ll ask you one last time. Who do you serve?’

He licked his lips, eyes moving around their group, from Coralen to Storm, Kulla, Dath, Teca and Yalric, all stern and silent. He must have seen no hope amongst them, and no mercy, for Coralen saw the decision in his eyes before he opened his mouth.

‘Jael,’ he said. ‘I serve Jael, King of Isiltir.’

‘He’s no king of mine,’ Yalric growled, hefting his axe.

Coralen tutted.

‘How far behind us is Jael?’

‘He’s not following, yet. Far as I know, my master set us on your trail, went to report to Jael about the Hold, and you . . .’

‘How many of you following us?’

‘Four,’ he said without any hesitation.

And four are here – three dead, you soon to follow. Coralen thought about breaking her word, putting him to the question. They weren’t hard to follow, over a thousand of them and a few hundred horses tramping through the forest, it would be impossible to hide their tracks. But it was vital that there were no eyes on them – that’s what Enkara had said. No eyes watching us.

But looking at him she believed him, and it made sense. It’s what she would have done – put a few good men on the trail, told them to hang back and not lose them. Report back when there was something to report.

She shifted her weight and stabbed him through the heart.

‘Get their bodies. Best we leave a message for those who come after,’ she said.

‘I like you,’ Kulla said to her as they made their way back to the warband.

Coralen glanced at her and grunted. Kulla was short, slim, large dark eyes in an oval face. And a deadly killer. Coralen had seen her spar, seen her take lives at Gramm’s hold with a deadly efficiency, as if she was harvesting crops.