One of the southern chieftains cried, ‘Now is the time to return to the Green Heart!’

‘As to that,’ said Kumal, ‘the Regent’s Meet has decided that we shall welcome any of our kin who venture south of the river boundary … as long as they recognize our rule over all lands south of Elvandar. You must pledge fealty to the Clans of the Seven Stars.’

Instantly, furious shouts rang out. ‘That is our land!’

‘We bow to no one!’

‘Our ancestors died there!’

Arkan turned to Morgeth. ‘It’s time to leave.’

Morgeth nodded and the two of them quickly made for the sidestreet and gate beyond. As they entered the dark lane, the sound of approaching warriors made Arkan motion for Morgeth to stop. He pointed to the door of an abandoned building and they ducked inside, crouching down beneath broken windows.

A moment later, they heard the sound of a large band of armed warriors passing by. The two warriors from the northern mountains kept silent until the sound of boot heels on cobbles was replaced by war-cries and the noise of steel ringing against steel. Arkan touched his companion and signalled, and they ran from the abandoned building towards the distant gate.

‘Narab seeks to be king, then?’ asked Morgeth once they were clear of danger.

‘Since killing Delekhan.’

‘A hundred years of hunger is a long time.’

Arkan nodded, then pointed to the distant gate.

Morgeth frowned. ‘What do we do if it’s guarded?’

‘Talk first, then fight.’

They reached the gateway and found a company of guards waiting: a dozen warriors stationed in front of fifty or more horses. Even before the warrior in charge could challenge them, Arkan waved and shouted, ‘Hurry!’

‘What is it?’ asked the leader.

‘Take your detail up the road, and go north at the first cross street. Cut off those trying to escape behind the palace! Hurry!’