‘Ahead. On the road.’

Typical. She’d known it was inevitable that they would encounter other people at some stage but had hoped they’d have escaped detection a little longer than this. They had spent two nights travelling through the mountains and entered Narvon only yesterday.

Enkara and Storm approached her. Even relaxed they both radiated strength and menace. Coralen grinned, for a moment lost in the strangeness of the company she kept. The world has changed immeasurably since I tracked half a dozen Benothi giants into the mountains between Domhain and Cambren. That had been where she’d first encountered Corban and his company.

‘What is it?’ Enkara said as she rode over. She was one of Tukul’s Jehar, one of the Hundred that had ridden out in search of the Bright Star nearly twenty years ago. Coralen had a healthy respect for all of the Jehar – their martial prowess and dedication was verging on inhuman, and the fact that the women amongst the Jehar ranks were easily as skilled as the men impressed Coralen. But Enkara had become more than that: a mutual respect had developed, and out of that a hesitant friendship.

‘A village, not far ahead,’ Coralen said. As she stared she saw faint columns of smoke. Cook-fires.

‘Can we go around?’ Enkara mused.

‘If we numbered a score, yes, we would go around. Three hundred . . .’ Coralen shook her head. ‘There’s no point. We would have to march leagues out of our way not to be spotted. And this is only the first of many villages that we are going to come across.’

‘So we just go straight through it?’

‘Yes. Fast.’

Enkara thought about that a moment, then smiled. ‘I like it.’

The rest of the scouting party joined them.

‘So what now?’ Dath asked, sitting relaxed and confident in his saddle. He was starting to lose the nervousness that had seemed to cloak him like a mist. He’s found something he’s good at. He’s made to be a huntsman, can track, scout, has a remarkable eye for details. And he’s a better shot with his bow than I am, or anyone else I’ve known.

Coralen gave them her orders, splitting the crew, Enkara and two others leaving to warn Corban and the warband, the rest going with her to scout out the village. It still felt strange, giving orders. She had ridden with a hard crew most of her life, with Rath and his giant-killers, but they had numbered around a score or so, and she had grown up with them. And she’d never given them orders. Now she was responsible for three hundred lives and was making decisions that could mean the difference between life and death for them all.

If it is strange for me, how must it feel for Corban, sitting at the head of this warband, having the Jehar, Benothi giants and one of the Ben-Elim looking to him?