‘We could try the traditional method of questioning,’ Rhin said as she unstrung a pouch from her belt, pulling some dried leaves from it and crumbling them into the pot. ‘But I’m inclined to cut straight to the end of the hunt. With the traditional route – you know, flaying, toe crushing, hot irons, the removal of genitals, that kind of thing – there is always so much blood. And screaming. It takes time.’ She smiled grimly. ‘I don’t really have the time to waste. I don’t like it here. I need to be elsewhere, so you need to tell me what you know, and you need to tell me now.’

Halion watched her, his face an unreadable mask.

I’m glad I’m not him.

Bitter fumes started to rise from the pot.

‘I wouldn’t stand too close,’ Rhin warned Conall and Veradis, ‘unless you wish to tell me your deepest secrets.’

Both men took a step back.

‘Now then, take a deep breath,’ Rhin said to Halion, taking the pot by its chain and holding it above Halion’s lap. He held his breath before the fumes enshrouded him. He bucked in his chair, trying to break free. Two warriors stood behind, holding it in place. Halion shook his head from side to side, searching for an escape from the fumes, his arms rigid, his back arched. Eventually he had no choice; he took a shuddering breath, then another. Moments passed and he slumped into the chair, tension seeping from his muscles.

‘Good,’ Rhin muttered. ‘Now. Tell me your name.’

‘Halion ben Eremon.’ He looked surprised, then too relaxed to care. Rhin smiled.

‘And whom do you love, above all others in these Banished Lands?’

‘Conall ben Eremon, my brother.’

Conall took a step back, as if from a blow.

‘And who is your lord?’

‘I have no lord,’ Halion corrected. ‘I serve a lady; Edana ap Brenin. Queen of Ardan.’

Rhin scowled at that.

‘Why are you asking him these questions?’ Conall growled. ‘How are they relevant?’

‘I am establishing that he is telling the truth – that the drug has him fully.’ She looked back to Halion. ‘And where is Edana now?’

‘At sea, I would imagine.’

‘What are her plans?’

‘To reunite with the resistance in Ardan. To take back her crown.’

‘It was never hers,’ Rhin muttered. Halion stared ahead.

‘And where is this resistance? What is Edana’s destination?’

‘Dun Crin, the giant ruins in the marshes of western Ardan.’

Rhin smiled triumphantly. She reached out and stroked Halion’s cheek. ‘Thank you. You have been most helpful.’

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CORALEN

Coralen looked up as Craf spiralled down to her. She drew her horse to a halt and waited for him, twisting in her saddle to check on the main company emerging from the woodlands of the mountain slopes, as small as ants from this distance.

‘Village,’ the crow squawked as he drew nearer, alighting on her saddle pommel.

‘Where?’ she asked.