The sight of the giants had aroused his curiosity. What does Lykos want with them? How long has he kept them prisoner? Why are they so heavily guarded? Lykos was a sly, cunning strategic man. There must be some purpose for him to invest so much in guarding these giants. Do not ask. I do not want to know, do not care. My life has become complicated enough already. Those giants are another distraction that I do not need. There is only Jael. Getting involved here has already led to Vin Thalun on my trail and a woman slowing me down, when I could have been leagues closer to Isiltir by now. Nevertheless he was finding it hard to not think of the two giants. There had been something pitiful about them, something broken. They are slaves; he knew how that felt. It had stoked his hatred of the Vin Thalun, and he felt that hatred still, a white-hot glow that threatened to consume him. They are following us. He’d heard their calls as they’d crossed the river, occasionally heard them crashing through the forest – they are seafarers, not woodsmen – and he’d wanted to stop, to turn back and hunt the hunters, see their blood spilt, lives ended, but he knew he could not. Responsibility drove him, made him flee. Behind him Fidele’s breaths were laboured, ragged. He slowed his pace, then stopped.

She was flushed, sweating, dark hair plastered to her face, clearly exhausted. And yet she has not asked to stop. Not what he would have expected from a pampered queen. There is a strength in her. Pride and determination.

‘Do not stop . . . on my account,’ she breathed.

There was a rumble overhead – thunder – and a raindrop dripped onto Maquin’s nose.

‘Senios will have told them of you. They will continue following us,’ Maquin said.

‘And he’ll have told them about you. They may think twice about chasing us.’

‘No, they’ll just send enough to make sure the job gets done.’

‘How many is enough? I saw you in the arena – against four.’

Maquin looked away. He remembered that day, remembered seeing the four warriors appear through the arena gates. Remembered each individual as they bled out in the mud.

‘Depends how good they are,’ he shrugged, banishing the memory. He looked about the forest. ‘They are seafarers, not at home in a forest. Me, I lived in Forn. They should send at least seven, to be sure, and there were more than enough of them to do that.’

‘How do you know?’

‘I counted twenty-two at their camp. They’d need at least ten to guard the giant and her bairn, probably a few more than that. Two would have left to take word to Lykos. That leaves around ten, depending on how many stay with the giants.’

She nodded resolutely. ‘What should we do?’