‘Work, work, work,’ Craf muttered as he flapped into the air.

Corban looked around and saw Meical, Gar and Coralen all staring at him.

‘What are you going to do?’ Meical asked him.

I don’t know. Fight? Flight?

Fear had settled in his gut like a heavy stone. Not fear of fighting or even of his own death – he had experienced enough battles now, and while there was always an element of fear present, he knew that he had the mastery of it. And besides, he had seen more terrifying sights recently, not least Kadoshim demons made flesh and the horrors they had inflicted.

What am I so scared of?

He touched his heels to Shield and rode away, heading back to the warband, the others following in silence.

Back to the warband. Back to my warband.

And then he realized. It was one thing choosing to enter battle yourself. And if others chose to follow you, well, that had given him some worry, but in the end it was their decision, not his. This time, though, he had led people here, to this point. He had chosen this course. He had expected resistance, to encounter the enemy, but not yet, and in his mind the resistance had consisted of minor skirmishes along the road. Part of him had hoped that they would be able to avoid any large conflict at the very least until they had reached the border with Ardan. Certainly he had not expected to march straight into a warband of Rhin’s so soon, especially not one where the outcome of battle was so uncertain.

I am scared of people dying because of my decisions, my mistakes.

Gar cantered closer.

‘Are you all right, Ban?’

‘No.’ The warband came into view, spread along the slope. Corban looked about: undulating moorland surrounded them. If we were to fight, the terrain here is no good. Too open against an enemy that outnumbers us. The sun glowed behind thick cloud. It’s highsun. Plenty of the day left. I need some time to think.

Concerned faces watched him – men, women, giants. Everyone always seems to be watching.

He took a deep breath. ‘Prepare to move out,’ he cried. ‘We’re turning around.’

They rode hard, retracing their steps, Corban at their head. Craf had returned, reporting that the warband was heading due north, straight towards them.

He sent Coralen and a handful of Jehar back to watch the enemy, Storm loping beside her, as Craf had collapsed exhausted upon Brina’s saddle and refused to fly another handspan.