‘I’ve not made a secret of it,’ Zerreiss confirmed. ‘Nor do I take strategic decisions based on hunches or intuition. You know that. Yet I strongly feel that heading for that island, meeting that man, are prerequisites for everything else we have to do.’

‘I don’t pretend to understand,’ Sephor admitted, ‘but I trust your instinct in this, sir. You’ve never steered us wrongly before.’

‘And I don’t intend to start now,’ Zerreiss assured him.

‘You know we won’t be the only ones heading there,’ Wellem reminded them. ‘Our intelligence says at least one empire fleet’s moving into those waters.’

‘It’s a good point,’ Sephor reckoned. ‘For the first time we’d be engaging the full force of imperial might head on.’

‘Have faith in me,’ the warlord said. ‘We’ve been preparing to take our message to their civilised world for long enough. It’s time we met.’ He fixed them with his cool, steady gaze. ‘Signal the new course.’

It was often said that the gods had some curious ideas about the deployment of their human progeny. While sceptics saw this as pure chance, and believers viewed it as divine intervention, both agreed that the disposition of players in the great game of life frequently displayed a savage irony.

So it was that this vast stretch of water hosted another ill-assorted troupe, also bound for the Diamond Isle.

‘Drink in the sight,’ Devlor Bastorran said. ‘You’re witnessing a momentous event.’

‘Is that so?’ Aphri Kordenza yawned into the back of her hand theatrically. ‘Just looks like a lot of boats to me.’

‘Ships,’ the paladin corrected.

‘Boats, ships; they’re only boring things that happen to float.’

‘You’ve no sense of history.’

‘Aphrim and I have something more important: a sense of self-preservation.’

‘Then perhaps you should take more interest in what’s going on around you.’ Bastorran gazed at the meld distastefully.

‘We take in enough to ensure our security. Everything else is surplus to requirements.’

‘It really doesn’t concern you that we’re part of something no living eyes have seen before?’

‘No. And we think it doesn’t matter to you either. We reckon you’re like us; when it comes down to it, you’re only interested in the Qalochian and getting your own back on him.’

‘Wiping out the rebels has its appeal, too,’ he said thoughtfully.

‘Sure, but even that’s not personal like Caldason, is it?’

‘I’ve never denied it. At least, I’ve never denied it to you.’

‘Then don’t give us all this history in the making shit, Bastorran.’

He held her gaze. ‘If you’ve got any ideas about getting to him first and depriving me of my revenge, freak, you’ll be history yourself. Both of you.’

‘You’ve no worries on that score. We’ll be contenting ourselves with cutting rebel throats, and hunting down the Ardacris woman.’

‘Who’s to be kept alive, remember. I promised Laffon I’d deliver her for interrogation.’

‘You’re no fun at all, are you?’

‘I only said she’d be fit for questioning. I didn’t say anything about her being whole.’

‘That’s some consolation, I suppose.’

‘Helping bring about Caldason’s death should provide further solace for you. So long as it’s me who strikes the final blow.’

The symbiote brightened. ‘That is something worth looking forward to. Aphrim’s going to be absolutely-’

Someone discreetly cleared their throat. They turned to see Bastorran’s aide approaching.

‘What is it, Meakin?’ the paladin snapped.

‘Begging your pardon, sir, but the Captain sends his compliments and asked me to let you know that our fleet and Rintarah’s are about to officially rendezvous. Up ahead, sir.’ He held out a glamoured spy tube. ‘You might find this useful.’

Bastorran grunted and snatched it.

‘Amazing sight, isn’t it, sir?’ Meakin ventured. ‘History in the making.’

‘Quite,’ Bastorran returned crisply.

Kordenza rolled her eyes skyward.

‘The Captain also said that we should be in sight of the Diamond Isle in less than a day,’ Meakin added.

‘And not a minute too soon,’ the symbiote mumbled.

On all sides, the sea was hidden by uncountable numbers of vessels of every conceivable kind. Forests of bobbing masts blotted out the horizon.

Ahead, the two stupendous fleets were merging, aglow with magical radiance.

‘Talk to me, paladin, or get ready to swim the rest of the way!’ Caldason had Praltor Mahaganis by the scruff of his neck up against the brig’s guardrail.

Serrah barged between them. ‘Reeth! Calm down.’

‘Out of the way.’

‘You know you don’t mean it.’

‘Don’t I? Take a look at my face and say that again.’

‘Let him be.’ Her tone was deliberate and threatening.

‘No,’ Mahaganis declared, ‘Reeth’s right. I should never have held anything back.’

They ignored him.

‘In case you hadn’t noticed, Reeth,’ Serrah said, ‘we have a fucking enormous enemy fleet threatening to block our path!’

On their starboard side an apparently limitless number of ships were approaching. They were some distance away, but the leaders had enough of a lead to cut off the brig, and soon.

‘This isn’t exactly the time for a history lesson,’ she added.

‘It might be the only time we have left,’ Caldason told her.

‘He’s right,’ Mahaganis said, a weary, resigned edge to his voice. ‘You should know everything.’

Kutch and Wendah came running. The skipper, Rad Cheross, and a couple of crewmen were close behind.

‘What’s all the fuss?’ Kutch panted.

‘What are you doing to him?’ the girl demanded angrily. From the look on her flushed face she was ready to pitch in.

‘It’s all right, Wendah,’ Mahaganis assured her. ‘No one’s trying to hurt me.’

‘He is.’ She scowled at Caldason.

‘No he’s not,’ Kutch said. ‘Reeth wouldn’t do that.’

‘Wouldn’t he? He’s a killer, isn’t he?’

Caldason let go of the old man.

Serrah placed a hand on the girl’s shoulder. ‘Kutch is telling you the truth, Wendah. Nobody’s going to be harmed. Now let’s all just be calm, shall we?’

Cheross stepped forward. ‘You might like to take this somewhere private. You’re in our way.’ He nodded towards the closing fleet.

‘Is there anything we can do?’ Serrah asked.

‘Not unless you’ve sailing skills you haven’t told me about. The best thing you can do is to leave us to it. Get yourselves to the mess, you’ll not be disturbed there.’

‘Can we outrun them?’

‘We’ve a fair chance. But I’m making no promises. Be ready to defend the ship if I have to give the order.’

‘Against all those?’ Kutch blurted.

‘It won’t come to that,’ Serrah promised. ‘We’re stopping Rad doing his job. Let’s go.’

She led them away. Wendah took the old man’s arm and guided him, with Kutch at her side. Caldason trailed behind. The deck was slick with spray, and a stiff wind blew constantly. They were glad to pile into the ship’s largest cabin, and took seats at the long oak table it housed.

Kutch said, ‘What is going on, Reeth?’

‘You know what Praltor said about me having Founder blood. You can’t make a statement like that then refuse to elaborate. I need to hear the rest, and now, while there’s still time.’

Wendah’s eyes widened. ‘Before we die, you mean?’

‘Reeth means in the time left before we get to the island,’ Serrah lied, flashing him a hard look. ‘Don’t you, Reeth?’

‘That’s right,’ he replied after a pause. ‘I should have said.’ He turned to Mahaganis. ‘Tell me what you meant about Founder blood. Please.’

‘Yes. Hmm, a drink first, if someone would be so kind.’ Wendah poured him watered wine from a jug. He smiled. ‘Thank you, child.’ Finding her hand, he squeezed it, then drank, finally thumping down the cup with resolve. ‘What I told you, Reeth,’ he stated, ‘was no lie. Founder blood flows in your veins.’