Jael reined his horse in and cupped his hands about his mouth.

Too late.

‘Who leads this rabble?’ Jael called out, voice sounding small and insignificant as it battered against Drassil’s walls. No answer came back to them.

‘I’ve heard a name, and a title,’ Jael called. ‘Corban. Bright Star. Are you up there, Corban, but too scared to speak with me.’

He’s always had a natural ability to get under the skin, has Jael.

‘I’m here,’ a voice came down to them.

‘I’ve a proposition for you, Bright Star,’ Jael shouted, managing to make the title sound like an insult. ‘I’ve a lot of men under my care, and no doubt you’ve a fair few with you inside those walls. How about we decide this the old way, and spare the blood of thousands of men. Spare their lives.’

Silence.

‘You against my champion. Winner takes the field.’

More silence.

‘I’d wager that that has set the cat amongst the wood pigeons,’ Jael whispered to Ulfilas.

‘You lie,’ another voice drifted down.

I recognize that voice.

A face peered over the wall. Wulf.

‘Ahh, the son of Gramm,’ Jael called out. ‘How are your hands?’

I think he’s genuinely enjoying this.

‘You will die today, Jael. As will your lackey, Ulfilas.’

Well, I did spill his da’s guts before his very eyes. I’d be surprised if he wasn’t angry.

‘Be quiet, you insignificant oaf,’ Jael called back. ‘I’m talking to your leader, not you.’

Curses drifted down and then Wulf’s face disappeared.

‘I do not lie,’ Jael said. ‘I swear an oath, before my people and any powers that deign to listen. If you defeat my champion I shall withdraw and leave you in peace.’

‘I’ll fight you,’ the first voice came down to them.

‘Ahh, tempting,’ Jael said, ‘but, no. I am a king. I have a champion, whereas you are no king, but profess to be a champion. The champion of Elyon, no less; or am I mistaken? That is what the prophecy says, does it not?’

More silence.

‘So if you are the champion you claim to be, then come down here. Fight my champion, and spare the lives of your followers.’

Jael turned and grinned at Ulfilas. ‘Either way, we win here. If he refuses, he loses the respect of his warband – they will not fight so fiercely for someone who had an opportunity to save them and chose not to. And if he comes down here, he dies. Their Bright Star. That will rip the heart out of this warband. They may even surrender after that.’

I’ll give it to Jael, he is a canny one.

‘But what if he comes down here and wins?’ Ulfilas said.