‘Don’t,’ Fidele said. Maquin frowned at her.

‘It’s not compassion. I’d happily kill him myself. But I want to see these giants.’

‘It could just be a lie, to prolong his life, give him a chance to escape.’

Fidele shrugged. ‘Perhaps. Give him one day – if we haven’t seen these giants by dusk on the morrow . . .’

‘We’ll kill him. You sure you can deal with that?’

‘Yes. It will be an execution, not a murder – he is an enemy of my realm.’

‘Good.’

‘What was out there,’ Fidele nodded at the darkness.

‘Death,’ Maquin muttered. ‘Vin Thalun chasing men of Tenebral – I glimpsed a few, running. They wore Tenebral’s eagle. They were a way off, running east, away from us. You should get some sleep.’

‘I don’t know if I can,’ she said.

‘You’re going to need your strength.’ He paused, his face softening for an instant. ‘You’ll be safe.’ He didn’t say more, didn’t need to. It sounded foolish – they were fleeing, cold, hungry, in a forest surrounded by enemies – yet, looking at Maquin, she did feel safe. She also felt suddenly exhausted.

‘You’ll need to sleep, too. Wake me later.’

‘I will,’ Maquin grunted and Fidele curled up on the ground, pulling her cloak about her. Forest litter crunched beneath her as she shifted, lumps in the ground digging into her back. Eventually she found a position that was vaguely comfortable and she tried to remain still. An owl hooted nearby, making her jump. I may as well sit watch with Maquin, I’ll never sleep out here.

Something shook her and she opened her eyes to weak sunlight. A shadow hovered nearby, features pulling into focus.

For a moment she thought it was Lykos, his face dark and tanned, eyes boring into her. She gasped and jerked away.

‘Sorry,’ Maquin mumbled, ‘didn’t mean to startle you.’ He stepped back.

‘It’s all right,’ she said, her voice a croak. ‘I thought you were . . .’ She trailed off as a score of pains made themselves known, reminding her she’d slept on the forest floor. She groaned and hesitantly stretched, testing the pains. When she’d established that she was not completely crippled she tentatively stood, leaning on a nearby tree.

‘First night in the wild,’ Maquin said. A flicker of a smile creased his face.

‘It’s daylight,’ she said, her cheek aching as she spoke, a memento of the Vin Thalun’s blow.

‘Aye.’

‘You were supposed to wake me.’

He just shrugged and passed her a water skin. She drank thirstily, then glanced at the Vin Thalun, who sat with his back against the tree, arms still bound about it. His jaw was swollen, bruised almost black. He returned her gaze with open malevolence.

‘Senios, how far to this place?’ Fidele asked him. Maquin raised an eyebrow at the use of the Vin Thalun’s name.

He mumbled something, grimaced, a line of spittle dribbling from the corner of his mouth. Fidele made out what sounded like ‘Half-day.’