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‘The god who burned a city with your people in it?’ said Arren. He didn’t care it was a lie, he would press it home, because he saw it bending the Talician’s colours, turning them small. Turning them scared. ‘What is your name?’

The krka looked as if he were considering biting his tongue off rather than answering, glaring Arren straight in the eye. But he broke gaze first.

‘Estefin,’ he said. ‘My grandmother was kerl in the north. Her name was Ruoch. She was one of the first they sacrificed to bring Hseth into Talicia.’

Arren nodded. ‘You will be given a room, Estefin,’ he said. ‘Food, and new clothes. I would hear more of what happened to Talicia in the years between the raider wars and Hseth’s rise. And our part in it.’

‘A room?’ This was Lord Yesef from outside. ‘Sunbringer, there are no rooms. Not for our own people, let alone a Talician murderer.’

‘He can have mine,’ said Elo softly, looking at Arren. As always, he was the one who understood him, who tempered his anger with wisdom. ‘I sleep poorly on feathers, and I can join the others outside while the skies are warm.’

Arren bit the inside of his cheek. That, he hadn’t intended. He had been half waiting to turf Methsme out, to teach her some humility. ‘Very well,’ he said. ‘See it done.’

‘That’s it?’ said the krka. ‘I told you nothing.’

‘It was all we needed,’ said Arren. ‘A way to protect our kingdom. But, if you have more to offer …’

Estefin clenched his jaw shut, but he had already shown his weakness: his pride, and his anger.

Torture would shatter a man like that, but food and wine would run him chattering.

He would press that nerve later, collect any titbits he could, even if it was the krka boasting of Talicia’s superior strength.

Now, he was tired, and he had missives to write.

Peta wouldn’t like the idea of retreat. It was a weakness to her, and she despised weakness as much as Methsme.

Hopefully, she would understand that if they met Hseth in Lesscia, they would destroy it between them.

And he had had enough of destroying his own cities.

He had had enough of seeing the pain in Elo’s eyes.

They left the stink of the stable behind, with baffled Estefin waiting to be escorted by a stoic Kyaum and her guard.

‘And the others?’ said Elo, stopping before they went too far. They both looked back. The Talician foot soldiers were sitting, chained, and scarfing down weak broth from the bowls the guards had given to them, as if they had not eaten in weeks.

I saw them once, said Hestra softly to Arren. I pitied them.

‘What do you think?’ said Arren out loud.

Elo had sheathed his sword, and was rubbing his thumbs absently over his fingers, cleaning them of flour. ‘Kill them clean or let them go,’ he said.

‘Let them go?’

‘Yes.’

They were enemies. Destroyers. Arren considered Methsme’s desire for vengeance and sacrifice, and Elo’s for pity, for mercy, when he had been afforded so little. Perhaps he could give him some. An offering of his own, for Hestra and Elo.

‘I will see it done,’ he said. ‘They will be sent across the Daes, and told to go home to their hearths.’

‘They may go back to the army, tell the Talicians of our strategy.’

‘Let them. We want them to know.’

Elo’s mouth tightened, closer to a smile again, and Arren saw a curious shade of blue in his shine. ‘Is that all you wanted me for, King Arren?’

That wasn’t all Arren wanted him for, but for the life of him he couldn’t think of another way to ask him to stay other than please.

‘Yes,’ he replied instead.

Elo walked away, and Arren turned back to the fortress, his personal guard still at a respectful distance.

He felt eyes on him still, as he passed through the courtyard back to his chambers: from the servants, the knights.

He could see their shining too, out of the corners of his eyes.

Their fears, their hopes, their faith, their love; so bright, so much.

It was becoming a warm blue evening. Arren looked out of the windows as he passed, taking in the vivid, endless horizon, marred only by a few smudges of dark cloud and veils of rain falling to the west.

‘Wait outside, please,’ said Arren to his guard as they came into the study. He was left, the door closed, and at last he was alone.

Not alone. With Hestra.

That was well done, she said. I understand why the knight has such a hold on you.

A compliment? From Hestra? He shook his head bemusedly, going to his desk.

Did you mean what you said? she asked. About your heart being different?

Was his headache because she was speaking more to him? No longer did he feel such needling pain as he usually expected from a god in his mind, but it was not comfortable either.

Is it not true? said Arren.

It is strange, she said. I no longer have many homes but you. Our bond deepens, yet it was made by a being who abandoned us both.

She was right. He had no home: even his own body was shared. The closest to home he’d known had been stolen moments in Elo’s bakery, sharing bread, or the tents and meals on the battlefield.

You play this war like a game of faiths, said the god at last. Perhaps it is. But I fear even with what we have wrought, Hseth’s power will remain unbroken. The girl said a god more powerful was needed to win against a rage so great. Despite what she wanted, I am not she.

‘The girl?’ said Arren, sitting down. ‘Craier’s girl?’

Hestra did not answer for a moment. She can speak to me, she said at last. She tried to call me to join Middren’s side.

Inara Craier.

‘What is she?’ Arren asked.

It depends on who you ask, said Hestra. There have been some over the years, some hunted, some worshipped. A halfling. A god’s child.

‘Gods can have young?’

Rarely . Some grew too close to humans, wanting to experience mortal pleasures, or to claim a different kind of adoration.

This was the most helpful Hestra had ever been. Not an enemy, not a whispered voice of anger, not a pressure of will and conniving with other gods. As lost as he was, he had found himself for the first time on equal footing with her.

‘Did you have any?’ said Arren.

Lovers or children?

‘Either.’

Hestra fell quiet for such a long time that Arren feared she would not answer. The edge of night was creeping closer, and he could hear shouting below, the gathering of forces. Ready for the execution. He should go, he knew that. But he was so weary, so lonely.

I once loved a human woman, said Hestra softly, flickering and warm beneath his shirt.

She would sing and stitch by the flames.

Such beautiful music. She did not read or write as you do now, pinning songs down like sparks to the wall, but she …

Her voice took on longing. She had a voice that could make gods weep.

Centuries I had lived already, and I had never heard songs like hers. She paused. Nor have since.

‘What happened?’ said Arren.

The same that always happens, said Hestra.

The same thing that is happening now. She moved away from her hearth and home, driven by war or plague, I cannot remember which.

I was so angry that she left. I burned down the cottage that she abandoned.

She never found another hearth, not one I could hear her in. So, I expect she did as all humans do.

Arren put his hand to his chest. ‘What is that?’ he said.

She died.

‘I’m sorry.’

You should get used to it, if immortality is what you truly crave. You already tried to give your heart away for power, and now you begin to see with a god’s eyes.

‘Surely that means I would be able to love people more, understand them more.’

The love comes from you, kingling, not from them, she said. What is faith if not an offering in return for love?

Arren sighed, picking up Peta’s letter and holding it to his chest, where the warm flames of his heart heated the parchment, revealing what was said.

Daesmouth is lost, she said. His most loyal follower, his knight commander, the first to call him Sunbringer and mean it.

Do not trust anyone. The Restish have sent envoys to Crolle and Yether, looking for another to hold the throne.

We need your power now, Sunbringer, your godhead, or all is lost. Help us.

Arren lowered the parchment and put his head back against his chair. Of course. The Restish were not Talicians. They wanted cities, profit, control.

They wanted the Houses.

And Arren had few now left he could trust.