‘Internal strife, then,’ Belo said. He looked pointedly at Nathair. ‘There are rumours of other realms that are struggling to maintain order within their borders. I have heard the word rebellion mentioned in connection with Tenebral. Is there any truth in this?’

‘There has been—’ Calidus began.

‘It has been crushed,’ Nathair interrupted. ‘My first-sword has sent me word, Tenebral is at peace, and he brings the leaders of this so-called rebellion here, for my judgement.’

‘Veradis, your problem-solver.’

It was Veradis who cut Mandros’ head from his shoulders. Belo’s cousin.

‘Just so,’ Nathair said, eyes fixed on Belo, who gave the first sign of any kind of emotion, a tightening in his jaw and narrowing of his eyes.

‘I think it is time we retire,’ Belo said. ‘You have made your case clear, what you wish from us. Gundul and I shall discuss it at length.’

‘That is not good enough,’ Nathair said. Calidus put a hand upon his shoulder but he shook it off. ‘Time cannot be wasted. I must have your answers now. This day.’

Belo shrugged and stood, his chair scraping. ‘We don’t always get what we want,’ the ageing warrior said. ‘And I for one am not sure I’ll be advising my King to listen to a man who cannot even maintain order within his own realm. Come, Gundul,’ he said, touching the young King’s arm.

‘Stop,’ Nathair said quietly, venom in his voice.

Belo did stop, for a moment looking with angry eyes at Nathair.

‘You do not give orders to us, King of Tenebral. This is a council of equals, and I take my orders from my King, not some upstart with a faded title, a realm in chaos and a reputation for murdering kings. Now, Gundul, let us—’

‘Sumur, kill this thorn in my flesh,’ Nathair said.

Sumur moved without a second’s hesitation, walking calmly around the table, hand reaching over his shoulder for the hilt of his blade.

‘This is not amusing,’ Belo snapped. ‘I will not be intimidated.’ Ulfilas saw his eyes flickering between Nathair and Sumur.

‘My patience is at an end. I will listen to your whining opposition no more,’ Nathair said.

With a rasp, Sumur drew his blade.

‘This is a council amongst allies,’ Belo snapped, disbelief and fear mingling in his voice. He took a few steps back, hand reaching for his own sword.

‘You are not my ally,’ Nathair said. ‘You did not take the oath, Gundul did.’

‘This is outrageous,’ Belo cried.

Sumur walked on, around the table.

‘Alric,’ Belo yelled, panic in his voice now, the shieldman behind Gundul shifting, looking between Gundul and Belo.

‘Alric, now!’ Belo shouted, and the shieldman moved, stepping in front of Sumur and drawing his sword.

Sumur curled a lip and rolled his shoulder, his sword snapping out, the shieldman moving too slowly, staggering into Gundul’s chair, gurgling as blood spurted from his throat.

Sumur walked on.