‘Need me?’

‘You are no fool, Nathair. I will not tell you what you already know.’

‘That I control the warbands of Tenebral, and that I have forged an alliance with Helveth, Carnutan and Isiltir.’

‘Exactly.’ Calidus nodded. ‘I have the Kadoshim, Uthas and his Benothi, Lykos and the Vin Thalun. And Rhin. A powerful force, but not all-powerful. Together, though . . .’

‘With me as your puppet-king, you mean,’ Nathair said. His draig turned its eyes on Calidus and gave a low, baleful rumble.

‘Not as a puppet. As a king, with the others as your vassals – Rhin, Lykos, Uthas. These Banished Lands are too vast for one man to conquer unaided.’

‘They are,’ Nathair agreed.

‘So join me. Together we can crush Meical and his allies. Fulfil your dream. And afterwards you will rule. More than a king, you shall be Emperor of the Banished Lands, ruler of all you have conquered. So, you see, nothing will be changed from your dreams of old.’

‘And what of Asroth? What does he want?’

‘Victory. Only victory. Asroth’s desire is to defeat his enemies. The Ben-Elim. Meical, his Bright Star Corban and the band of brigands they’ve gathered about themselves. Afterwards, when they are dead –’ Calidus shrugged – ‘then this world is yours.’

‘Mine? Asroth would not rule here?’

‘No. He does not wish to rule – bureaucracy and administration hold little attraction for my master. All that he wishes for is to see his enemies destroyed, once and for all. To see their blood and bones ground into the earth. To make Meical and his Ben-Elim nothing but a stain upon the ground.’ Calidus’ mouth had constricted into a sharp line, eyes narrowed to slits.

He is remarkably convincing, thought Uthas.

‘And to achieve that victory Asroth needs you. He needs about him those who share his vision, whom he can trust. And, remember, Asroth chose you, above all others.’

Uthas was studying Nathair, ready for any indication that there would be defiance. He wants to believe Calidus, longs to be the hero of his own story, and Calidus is telling him what he wants to hear. Flattery blended with a measure of truth.

‘Your dreams, which you have been having for years,’ Calidus continued. ‘They are true. Asroth picked you out, chose you from countless others. You, Nathair, have the qualities to see this through. To make a difference. To rule. The only error in your dreams was the name that you chose to give Asroth.’

‘And myself,’ Nathair said, the earlier bitterness still in his voice, but weaker now, diluted by something else.

Hope.

Calidus shrugged.

‘My dreams,’ Nathair said, a distant look in his eyes. ‘They made me feel different. Special, chosen.’

‘And you are. All you need do is change your perspective on Asroth. I will not lie, he is angry. Angry at Elyon, the Great Tyrant, his hubris nothing but a cloak for his betrayal.’ Calidus’ face twisted with a flicker of rage, like lightning on the horizon. ‘Asroth had the audacity to question Elyon, and then to challenge his wisdom. Elyon is proud, arrogant.’ Calidus smiled and shrugged. ‘Questioning him did not go down too well. Asroth was betrayed and cast out, along with those of us who stood beside him, we who had the impudence to wonder, to ask, to question. We were all betrayed by Meical and the Ben-Elim, with their piety and zeal, their lack of interest in the affairs of mankind. They are callous and cruel.’