‘A song, anyone?’ said Arshul.

‘You’ve got to be kidding,’ said a voice, nervous and small.

‘Not at all. Might break the mood. Get the blood flowing. Give us energy. Get our feet going and our courage together.’

‘Good idea, Arshul,’ said Haleth. ‘It’s about time this hell hole heard the beauty of Balaian song. A chorus of “Break the Chains”?’

‘We won’t be able to hear them coming.’

‘You won’t hear them anyway, not even if every beast in the forest fell silent and the sun dried the rain,’ growled One-Eye. ‘Sing, you bastards. And keep your eyes open.’

Tentatively at first, but growing in volume, the battle chant rose. And with every word, Arshul felt warmer and stronger. He surprised even himself. ‘Blade aloft and arrow nocked Break the Chains! Break the Chains! Armour bright and soul alight Break the Chains! Break the Chains! Enemies hear and cower in fear Break the Chains! Break the Chains! Shake them, break them, bring them down Break the Chains! Break the Chains!’ Warm fluid sprayed over Arshul’s face. He looked left. The one with the white face was in front of Jinosh, his fingers buried in Jinosh’s neck. Arshul brought up his blade. The white face dragged his fingers clear, the filed nails tearing out flesh. Jinosh screamed and fell forward. Arshul moved his blade to strike. The white face dropped to his knees. Feet ploughed into Arshul’s chest, driving him back onto the sodden ground.

Arshul saw a blade flash. Another man cried out, clamping his hands to his midriff. Arshul was disoriented. He saw the TaiGethen’s feet lift from his chest. Noise exploded all around him. He heard the thud of bows but not the sound of a hit. Arshul tried to scramble to his feet. The elf was inside the ring. A blade came at him but he moved so fast the edge carved empty air.

An archer dropped his bow, tried to get a knife. A palm slapped up into his nose, snapping his head back, smashing bone high up into his head. Haleth was shouting. Arshul made it to his haunches. The elf struck again, short sword taking a second archer through the eye.

‘Cast!’ yelled Haleth. ‘One of you bastards. Cast!’

‘At what?’ shrieked a mage, his voice tattered by fear.

Every swordsman had turned now. And the elf had gone, springing up and out of the circle, using a vine to speed his progress. Arshul watched him, gaping because he could do nothing else. In the cloying confines of the rainforest, the elf moved without impediment. A creature at one with his environment. He brought his legs into a tuck, unwound it as he landed, spun and delivered a ferocious kick into the back of One-Eye’s neck. The big man crumpled, head flopping on his shattered vertebrae.

‘Turn, turn!’ yelled Haleth. They weren’t listening to him any more. The group scattered. ‘No! Stick together.’

The pale face appeared again, as if stepping out of nowhere. He lashed his fingers across the face of a running mage, tearing out his eyes and sending him crashing into a tree. The TaiGethen pounced on another, landing two kicks more quickly than Arshul could follow and delivering a killing blow to the heart with his blade.

Arshul began to back away. The elves were intent on those in front trying in vain to escape.

‘Stand with me,’ hissed Haleth.

But the fire drops of terror were turning Arshul’s heart to ash and he shook his head.

‘No. You’ll be next. Alone I can hide, escape.’

‘You will never escape them alone.’

‘I can try. I’m sorry, Haleth.’

Arshul clung to the threadbare remnants of his will and moved quietly away.

‘Stand, you bastard!’ roared Haleth. ‘Craven scum. Worthless piece of shit. Stand! Anybody. Stand with me!’

Haleth didn’t come after him. Arshul knew he wouldn’t. Too much pride. Too much belief in the crew he had assembled. Look at that faith now. Being picked off, one after another. So Arshul, a very quiet man, a man used to leaving no trace, crept further away.

The screams of terrified men, so like their womenfolk when all was said and done, echoed through a mist that rose from the forest floor. Arshul could track the enemy from the sounds of rushing in the undergrowth, growing a little more distant now. That and the feeble cries for help that would never come.

Only Haleth still bellowed true defiance and his voice was taking on a curious quality now, seemingly coming from all points of the compass but gently, like the incoming tide in Korina Bay. A brave man. It was almost a shame to sacrifice him, but in the end there was only one option.

You had to hand it to the elves. Just two of them if his eyes did not deceive him, and almost, almost, they would claim the full complement of twenty men. Impressive. But Arshul was a lone man. And his tally was far higher. His skill was consummate. And his tasks henceforth would be more suited to his talents.

Arshul felt the reassuring bulk of a banyan tree trunk behind him and looked up into its welcoming branches. Death, so he was told, lurked amidst the twining boughs and the great rain-scooping leaves. Yet nothing so deadly and quick as that which stalked the forest floor.

Arshul paused to listen. The forest had quietened once more. The work had been done. Haleth, like the rest, would be bleeding his last drop of life into the ever-hungry earth. There was poetry in that. It was something the elves believed and it was easy to see why.

He looked down at his hands. They were quivering. Lucky he wasn’t being asked to shoot a bow this afternoon. He smiled. The forest had closed around him. Even he could not see where he had just been. Good. So still. Peaceful despite the drenching noise of animal life.

Arshul turned to look for his first handholds. The elf stood very close, barely a pace away. Studying him. Arshul’s bladder let go and he had to cling onto his bowels. The elf’s eyes were cold with inevitability.

Arshul knew that tears spilled down his cheeks. He knew his mouth was open to beg for mercy but all that emerged was a scream. The scream of a woman. Auum and Serrin looked down on the last of the men. Just as clumsy as the rest, though perhaps a little quieter. The blood had stopped flowing from his heart. The bubbles from his mouth, where his face lay half in the mud, had begun to burst.

‘We made a mistake letting the other one go. He is a leader of men. He can cause us problems. This one would have better suited us. A loner,’ said Auum.

‘No. The other will be heard, believed. Fear will grow.’

Auum nodded. ‘There’s sense in that. Come on. The temple is a day from here.’

Serrin was still looking down on the body of the mercenary.

‘There may be others,’ said Auum. ‘We need to warn the TaiGethen, prepare the temple. What is it?’

‘Someone helps them.’

Auum nodded. ‘Or they’d never find the temple. I know. We will find whoever is behind this. Yniss will guide our hands. They cannot touch us here, my priest. This is our land.’