‘Aez, Coyote leader of a hundred dog warriors of the Second Talon,’ he said, as calm as though he were chatting among friends. His breath came easily despite the exertion, despite the blood. ‘And you are trespassing in the Empire of Songs.’

Lilla’s lips peeled back from his teeth.

‘You mistake,’ Kux said as she strode over, surprise and anger vying for supremacy in her voice. She held a strip of material to her head and blood leaked from beneath it.

‘The Singer has decided Yalotlan will be brought under the song,’ Aez said, in that same calm and condescending tone. ‘And so this land now belongs to him.’

‘Monkey shit,’ Lilla snarled. ‘And you’re in Tokoban, anyway.’

Aez looked around. ‘Am I?’ he asked mildly. ‘All looks the same to me.’

Lilla itched to hurt him. ‘You understand nothing and your words mean less than nothing. Our land will always be our land.’

‘Of course it always will be,’ Aez said and Lilla paused. ‘I am from Axiban and I will always be a member of the Axib, even as I am also of the Empire.’ He laughed at their confusion. ‘It is you who understands nothing. When you are part of the Empire, you will learn. You will know glory then. And life.’

‘We will never be part of the Empire. We will never be slaves like you,’ Kux snarled.

Aez’s eyes narrowed. ‘I am no slave. I am a Coyote leader of dog warriors. I serve willingly.’

‘Dogs that bark at their master’s command but are too cowed to tear his throat out,’ Kux sneered and Lilla snorted. ‘But you press far north without reinforcements, little barking coyote. Why is that?’ Aez was silent. ‘Are there reinforcements coming?’ Still nothing. The Yalotl spat in his face.

Aez inhaled through flared nostrils as he wiped her saliva from his cheek. But then he settled back on his heels, his gaze fixed somewhere beyond them all. He was looking pale now, though with blood loss and pain rather than fear. ‘Holy Setatmeh and great Singer, judge me by my deeds and not my words, my devotion and not my fears. Sacred spirits, may my death secure your glory, and my name live in your mouths forever. I commend my family into your care, that they too may honour you.’

‘You’re not even a Pecha!’ Kux yelled. Aez paid no attention.

Rage built in Lilla’s chest and he chuckled, low and nasty, a sound that until the war he hadn’t known it was possible to make. A sound that threatened like the low rumbling growl of a jaguar. ‘No need for prayers, slave,’ he said. ‘We’re not killing you. At least, not yet.’ He tore the coyote-skin cap from Aez’s head and stamped on it.

Shock and fury twisted the man’s face. ‘I am no slave! I am a free Axi, a Coyote commander and—’