She spat at him, but didn’t have much saliva to make a proper job at it. Then she licked her lips and put her fingertips between the dog’s eyes and it quietened.

‘You understand me, then,’ he said. ‘You are one they call eja? A hunter and killer of the holy Setatmeh – the Drowned?’ A flicker of nameless emotion in her eyes but she didn’t even shrug. ‘You can write?’ he asked. ‘Or shall I bring someone over here to translate your hand-speech?’

Her eyes cut to his weapons and then the kneeling, captive warriors, back to him. All of them were bound, but that didn’t seem to matter to her. This one wanted blood. ‘Not a good idea,’ he told her softly. ‘The Singer wants to meet you and so we have to ensure your compliance. I will do that by killing your people, one by one, in slow and inventive ways, if you do anything to jeopardise my life or your own. But I will start with your dog.’

She definitely understood that, her breathing ragged. She shook her head.

‘You’ll be good?’ A nod this time. ‘Don’t test me on this, Eja.’

Pilos stood up and strode to the nearest group of captives. ‘I need a Toko who can translate for the eja.’

There was a long silence and then a man began to rise, but another, far older, stilled him and used his shoulder to push himself upright. ‘I am Eja Elder Rix. Eja Xessa is young and inexperienced. I will answer all your questions if you let her sit with the rest of our people. She is of little use compared with me. My knowledge is greater.’

Pilos beckoned and when the old man approached, he stared him out. ‘You are in no position to bargain with me,’ he murmured and snapped his fingers. One of the dog warriors guarding the group stabbed the nearest Toko in the heart. Rix bellowed and struggled as the captives erupted, screams of fear mingling with threats. Pilos held him back, despite his wiry strength.

‘But thank you – I need as many ejab as I can find; you have done me the favour of identifying yourself. Now come and translate for … Xessa, did you say? Come and translate for her, Elder. And know this now,’ he added as Rix ceased his struggles and began instead to pray for the woman dying at their feet. ‘Hush, and listen,’ Pilos commanded, slapping his face. ‘You will not lie or conspire with her; you will translate only what she says and you will not communicate with her yourself in any way. The moment you do, more will die, children included. You will watch her hands and tell me what she says. Nothing more.’

‘Why are you doing this?’ Rix demanded.