‘Faraladar Saan!’ Asha shook his arm. ‘Now this is what I call a royal welcome.’

‘Lady Asha,’ Faraladar smiled and bowed politely. ‘Lord Muchuk Und. May your Night be Bright. ’

‘And yours,’ Asha returned the traditional Daevish greeting. ‘You do see the irony of calling me a Lady, when my breeches are coloured with the blood of your fallen kin?’

Faraladar shrugged. ‘Those Daevas chose to side with the enemy. Their kinship had been severed,’ he declared flatly.

‘But of course. How practical of you.’

Thorin cleared his throat near the basin. ‘What is the fate of Trisiras, my son?’ Thorin asked, hands now white and clean.

‘Well…’ Muchuk Und blew out his cheeks, ‘his body has been eaten by one of my Pisachas. But I ensured they saved the head for you, Your Worship.’

There was a long pause. Thorin stared at them. They stared back, like a pair of accused waiting for the judge to pass sentence. Thorin finally nodded. ‘How did he die?’

‘He drowned.’

‘How did he drown?’ asked Dewi Raith, one of the Twins.

‘Well, Raith, he could not breathe when Muchuk held his face underwater in the river,’ Asha stated flatly.

Muchuk Und shook his head. Tact wasn’t Asha’s strong suit.

Ushas, the other Twin, her dagger-whip coiled around her waist like a belt, and a spear by her side, was the kinder twin but by no means less deadly. ‘But was it really necessary to exterminate Trisiras’ entire army?’ she asked, softly. ‘Did they not surrender?’

Muchuk scowled. He had won their War for them. And while he did not hold a grudge for not being given a victory parade, he surely was not going to subject himself to an interrogation. ‘In my defence, Ushas, I was left unsupervised.’

‘Silence!’ Dewi Raith grated. ‘You had orders to let Trisiras live. He was one of us.’

Asha interjected before Muchuk could spit out another retort. Addressing the King of Light directly, she said, ‘Your Worship, it is a childhood problem of his. He cannot take orders. He can barely take suggestions.’

Muchuk chuckled.

‘That will be enough.’ Thorin’s command stopped Raith from responding but a ripple of twitches went through her cheek. ‘Peace is a brittle thing, and Muchuk Und has assisted us with stretching it for a few more centuries. No one has ever achieved peace without getting their hands dirty.’

A sermon on peace from Thorin sounded like a sermon on chastity from a whore but Muchuk Und nodded in solemn agreement.

Thorin turned to Faraladar. ‘Let refreshments flow for our fine warriors. I am sure they would like to clean up before the next battle.’

‘About that, Your Worship, I…’ Muchuk glanced at Asha, who nodded, ‘...we wish to return home. Only small pockets of resistance survive, which the Men I leave behind can deal with.’

‘The Pisachas, you mean,’ Raith scoffed. ‘Cursed cannibals!’ she fumed.

‘Enough, Raith,’ Thorin scratched his perfect chin. ‘So Faraladar was right again. He suspected you ached to return to Aea. Home is where the heart belongs after all.’ He smiled amiably as he approached Muchuk. ‘But don’t you have everything you need here? Your race there is on the brink of extinction. Have you really thought this through?’