Udinaas could see in Rhulad’s face that the madness was close upon him. Frustration created a rage capable of lashing out in any direction. Behind the emperor, who began climbing up the slope to where Hannan Mosag waited, scrambled Theradas and Midik Buhn, Choram Irard, Kholb Harat and Matra Brith. All but Theradas had been old followers of Rhulad, and Udinaas was not pleased to see them. Nor, from the dark looks cast in his direction, were they delighted with the slave’s arrival.

Udinaas almost laughed. Just like the palace in Letheras, the factions take shape.

As Udinaas moved to catch up to Rhulad – who’d yet to notice him – Theradas Buhn stepped into his path as if by accident, then straight-armed the slave in the chest. He stumbled back, lost his footing, and fell onto the slope, sliding back down to its base.

The Edur warriors laughed.

A mistake. The emperor spun round, eyes searching, recognizing Udinaas through the clouds of dust. It was not difficult to determine what had just happened. Rhulad glared at his brothers. ‘Who struck down my slave?’

No-one moved, then Theradas said, ‘We but crossed paths, sire. An accident.’

‘Udinaas?’

The slave was picking himself up, brushing the dust from his tunic. ‘It was as Theradas Buhn said, Emperor.’

Rhulad bared his teeth. ‘A warning to you all. We will not be tried this day.’ He wheeled round and resumed his climb.

Theradas glared at Udinaas, and said in a low voice, ‘Do not believe I now owe you, slave.’

‘You will discover,’ the slave said, moving past the warrior, ‘that the notion of debt is not so easily denied.’

Theradas reached for his cutlass, then let his hand drop with a silent snarl.

Rhulad reached the crest.

Those still below heard Hannan Mosag’s smooth voice, ‘The day is won, Emperor.’

‘We found no-one left to fight!’

‘The kingdom lies cowering at your feet, sire-’

‘Thousands of Edur are dead, Warlock King! Demons, wraiths! How many Edur mothers and wives and children will weep this night? What glory rises from our dead, Hannan? From this… dust?’

Udinaas reached the summit. And saw Rhulad advancing upon the Warlock King, the sword lifting into the air.

Sudden fear in Hannan Mosag’s red-rimmed eyes. ‘Emperor!’

Rhulad whirled, burning eyes fixing upon Udinaas. ‘We are challenged by our slave?’ The sword-blade hissed through the air, although ten paces spanned the distance between them.

‘No challenge,’ Udinaas said quietly as he approached. Until he stood directly in front of the emperor. ‘I but called out to inform you, sire, that your brothers are coming.’ The slave pointed eastward, where figures were crossing the edge of the basin. ‘Fear, Binadas and Trull, Emperor. And your father, Tomad.’

Rhulad squinted, blinking rapidly as he studied the distant warriors. ‘Dust has blinded us, Udinaas. It is them?’

‘Yes, Emperor.’

The Edur wiped at his eyes. ‘Yes, that is well. Good, we would have them with us, now.’

‘Sire,’ Udinaas continued, ‘a fragment of Letherii sorcery sought out the encampment of the women during the battle. Your mother and some others defeated the magic. Uruth is injured, but she will live. Three Hiroth women died.’

The emperor lowered the sword, the rage flickering in his frantic, bloodshot eyes, flickering, then fading. ‘We sought battle, Udinaas. We sought… death.’

‘I know, Emperor. Perhaps in Letheras…’

A shaky nod. ‘Yes. Perhaps. Yes, Udinaas.’ Rhulad’s eyes suddenly bored into the slave’s own. ‘Those towers of bone, did you see them? The slaughter, their flesh…’

The slave’s gaze shifted momentarily past the emperor, found Hannan Mosag. The Warlock King was staring at Rhulad’s back with dark hatred. ‘Sire,’ Udinaas said in a low voice, ‘your heart is true, to chastise Hannan Mosag. When your father and brothers arrive. Cold anger is stronger than hot rage.’

‘Yes. We know this, slave.’

‘The battle is over. All is done,’ Udinaas said, glancing back over the field. ‘Nothing can be… taken back. It seems the time has come to grieve.’

‘We know such feelings, Udinaas. Grief. Yes. Yet what of cold anger?

What of…’

The sword flinched, like a hackle rising, like lust awakened, and the slave saw nothing cold in Rhulad’s eyes.

‘He has felt its lash already, Emperor,’ Udinaas said. ‘All that remains is your disavowal… of what has just passed. Your brothers and your father will need to hear that, as you well know. From them, to all the Edur. To all the allies. To Uruth.’ He added, in a rough whisper, ‘They would complicate you, sire – those gathered and gathering even now about you and your power. But you see clear and true, for that is the terrible gift of pain.’

Rhulad was nodding, staring now at the approaching figures. ‘Yes. Such a terrible gift. Clear and true…’

‘Sire,’ Hannan Mosag called out.

A casual wave of the sword was Rhulad’s only response. ‘Not now,’ he said in a rasp, his gaze still fixed on his father and brothers.

Stung, face darkening with humiliation, the Warlock King said no more.

Udinaas turned and watched the warriors of the Sengar line begin the ascent. Do not, slave, deny your own thoughts on this. That bastard Hannan Mosag needs to be killed. And soon.

Theradas Buhn, standing nearby, then said, ‘A great victory, sire.’

‘We are pleased,’ Rhulad said, ‘that you would see it so, Theradas Buhn.’

Errant take me, the lad learns fast.

Reaching the crest, Binadas moved ahead and settled to one knee before Rhulad. ‘Emperor.’

‘Binadas, on this day were you ours, or were you Hannan Mosag’s?’

Clear and true.

A confused expression as Binadas looked up. ‘Sire, the army of Tomad Sengar has yet to find need for sorcery. Our conquests have been swift. The battle this morning was a fierce one, the decision uncertain for a time, but the Edur prevailed. We suffered losses, but that was to be expected – though no less regretted for that.’

‘Rise, Binadas,’ Rhulad said, sighing heavily beneath his gold armour.

Udinaas now saw that Hull Beddict was approaching in the wake of the Sengar warriors. He looked no better than before, walking like a man skull-cracked and half senseless. Udinaas felt some regret upon seeing his fellow Letherii, for he’d been hard on the man earlier.

Tomad spoke. ‘Emperor, we have word from Uruth. She has recovered-’

‘We are relieved,’ Rhulad cut in. ‘Her fallen sisters must be honoured.’

Tomad’s brows rose slightly, then he nodded.

The emperor strode to Fear and Trull. ‘Brothers, have the two Kenryll’ah returned?’

‘No, sire,’ Fear replied. ‘Nor has the Forkrul Assail appeared. We must, I think, assume the hunt continues.’

This was good, Udinaas decided. Rhulad choosing to speak of things few others present knew about – reinforcing once more all that bound him to Fear and Trull. A display for Tomad, their father. For Binadas, who must now be feeling as if he stood on the narrowest of paths, balanced between Rhulad and the Warlock King. And would soon have to choose.

Errant save us, what a mess awaits these Tiste Edur.

Rhulad set a hand on Trull’s shoulder, then stepped past. ‘Hull

Beddict, hear us.’

The Letherii straightened, blinking, searching until his gaze found the emperor. ‘Sire?’

‘We grieve this day, Hull Beddict. These… ignoble deaths. We would rather this had been a day of honourable triumph, of courage and glory revealed on both sides. We would rather, Hull Beddict, this day had been… clean.’

Cold anger indeed. A greater mercy, perhaps, would have been a public beating of Hannan Mosag. The future was falling out here and now, Udinaas realized. And was that my intention? Better, I think, had I let Rhulad cut the bastard down where he stood. Clean and simple – the only one fooled into believing those words is Rhulad himself. Here’s two better words: vicious and subtle.