‘Aye,’ Balur said, eyebrows knitting together above the scarred socket of his missing eye. ‘Ask then.’

‘Would you spar with us? You and your kin?’

‘Is that wise?’ Gar said quietly.

‘A good question,’ Balur rumbled.

‘At Gramm’s hold we fought giants. At Murias I saw Benothi fighting alongside the Kadoshim. My guess is that we will be fighting giants again.’

If possible Balur’s eyebrows knitted tighter and protruded further.

‘So you want me to teach you how to kill giants?’

‘Yes,’ Corban shrugged. ‘I wouldn’t take it personally – we already practise how to kill each other, us men.’ He glanced at the Jehar warriors about the field, many of them women, finally at Coralen, who was performing a particularly vicious move that ended up with Farrell on his back and Coralen’s weapon thrust under his jaw. ‘And women.’

Balur glowered down at him, then his brows unknitted.

‘I was wondering if you would ask me. The answer is yes, it is wisdom. We will spar with you, though perhaps first some practice weapons should be fashioned for us – axes and war-hammers in the dimensions that we use.’

‘Well, it’s not like there’s a shortage of wood,’ Corban grinned.

Balur’s face twisted and it took a moment for Corban to realize the giant was smiling at him.

Hamil approached Gar and whispered something in his ear. Gar frowned and Hamil pointed over at the Jehar, who were gathered together in a loose circle, seemingly every last one of them.

‘What is it?’ Corban asked.

‘The Jehar are choosing a new leader,’ Gar said, the frown still on his face.

‘Tukul is gone.’ Hamil shrugged. ‘We follow you, Bright Star, but there should be a lord amongst us. That is the way it has always been.’

‘Aye. So why are you frowning?’ Corban asked Gar.

‘Akar has put himself forward,’ Hamil answered when Gar didn’t.

Gar and Hamil walked away, towards the gathering of Jehar. After a moment’s hesitation Corban followed.

The Jehar were standing in a ring, over three hundred and fifty of them, with Akar standing at their centre.

‘How does this work?’ Corban whispered to Hamil.

‘A warrior is nominated, or nominates themself. If more than one is put forward, then the court of swords decides.’

Corban looked at Akar, standing stern and resolute in the circle’s centre.

‘I have waited the allotted time,’ Akar called out, looking up at the sun. ‘None have presented themselves, no one has nominated another.’

He is a great warrior; I’ve seen him fight, and he has proved himself many times over during our journey here. And he has led a company, proved he has the skills to lead. But he was fooled by Nathair, fought for him. Corban frowned, troubled at the thought of Akar taking up Tukul’s mantle. But who could take Tukul’s place? No one.

Except Gar.