'We could see that the forces of Deruys and the Mist were surrounded, as were many soldiers from Straux and Deuverre, but we could not help them. There were far too many Bhrudwans between us and them.'

'Deruys and The Mist were destroyed,' Leith said bitterly. 'We watched them die. Wiusago and Tua were there, I saw the prince's standard fall. They must be dead.'

'But some survived,' Phemanderac added gently. 'Look. The Bhrudwans have many thousand captives.' And indeed, illuminated by the dying sun Leith could make out the enemy's brown horde encircling perhaps five thousand of his soldiers. 'Straux and Deuverran, mostly,' the tall philosopher added, his sharper eyes able to pick out their colours. 'No doubt they have surrendered.'

Anyone alive is a victory, Leith told himself, but his mind counted the numbers. Fifteen thousand lost in today's battle. The total was - the total was unthinkable. How many children would never see their mother 6r father again? How many families would soon be so devastated by the news that the identity of the ruler of Faltha would make little difference to them? He knew how many, but would not think it.

'And the others? My father and grandfather? The Company? Who remains?'

'Your family is safe, thanks to Achtal who hacked a path to safety for us. We were drawn to confront the singing men, and somehow Hal took our resistance and fashioned it into a weapon against the unnatural storm they sang into being. Then Achtal made a way of escape, though he was wounded for it.' Indrett drew a shuddering breath. 'In my youth I watched many a duel where money changed hands on the outcome. Such things are common in the Court of the Firanese king. Nothing I saw there prepared me for the power and grace of Hal's Bhrudwan protector. It was like - like he instinctively knew at what tempo to fight; a speed, fast or slow, that defeated his opponent. No matter.' Indrett shook off the effects of an event that had obviously marked her. 'What he might have done to us on the Westway if Hal had not befriended him!

'So we escaped,' she continued. 'We stood in wonder and marvelled at the rainbow in the sky above us, and it seemed to signal the end of the conflict, although why we thought this way when the Bhrudwan army remained undefeated, a goodly portion of our own army was under siege, the Maghdi Dasht had yet to be seriously challenged and the Destroyer stood on a hill high above, 1 do not know. But we celebrated nonetheless. We then realised that much of the Falthan army had been scattered by the rain and the lightning, and began to gather them together, with the aim of setting the trapped Falthan soldiers free. Before we made any real progress, however, the singing began again and the great hand formed in the sky. After that... for a while few of us could think clearly, so great was our sorrow. Again, I don't know why we felt this way. We were not completely defeated, the Jugom Ark did not lie in the hands of the Destroyer, and with care we could conserve our forces, the better to fight another day; yet we despaired. Hal cried out that it was magic, that the Destroyer poisoned our hope, but we could not hear him for a time.

'By the time we recovered our senses, the Bhrudwan army had been bolstered by the return of many warriors scattered by the rain and the lightning. Kurr exhorted us to rescue those trapped by the Bhrudwans, but Hal counselled another way. He spoke to certain of the magicians in our party -there are many more than we thought, and some did not know themselves that they held the power until today - and together they wove a magical net of some kind, one which hid us from the eyes of the Bhrudwans.'

Phemanderac took a pace forward, eyes large. A Net of Vanishing? You were hidden under a Net of Vanishing? Hauthius wrote about such a thing, but no one in Dhauria took his words seriously!' Then his eyes narrowed. 'But -such a net must surely have been visible to the Destroyer, whose eyes will pierce any illusion of Fire or Water?'

Indrett laughed, a fresh, clean sound. 'Yes, you are right, and so Hal reasoned. But the magicians he employed to construct the net were of the Fenni, the Fodhram and the Widuz, and these peoples are of Earth and Air. The Destroyer evidently cannot sense such magic, and has forgotten to take it into account. Thus it may be that Hal has provided us with a key to victory - and might have done so much earlier had he been consulted.' Indrett very pointedly did not look at her son.

'Where is the army now?' Leith asked, more bluntly than he intended. He could have come and offered his insight. There was nothing to prevent him. How many lives might have been saved? How many surprise attacks could we have launched? His suspicion of his brother flared again: why could the others not see it?

'Still under the net, awaiting our next strategy,' his mother replied. 'I will take you to them. On the way we will give thought to how we might best use this new weapon to our advantage.'

One hundred and sixty-nine heads bowed as one when the Lord of Bhrudwo, supported by his servant-girl, stepped ashore. Utter silence spread across the battlefield, the place known by locals as The Cauldron, as the black-booted figure trod across the muddy, body-strewn ground. He approached his army in an atmosphere which might have been mistaken for reverence by some of the captive Falthans, if they had been able to think of anything other than their growing terror, but was in fact part awe at the power they had just witnessed, and part fear at what might happen now. The servant-girl followed along behind, limbs working awkwardly, obviously a cripple, struggling to keep up.

The Undying Man raised his hand to the commander of the Lords of Fear, acknowledging their efforts with a salute. Then his army roared his name, and he permitted himself a small smile.

'Flatterers,' a voice hissed from behind him. 'They fear your shadow!'

He laughed richly, then said: 'I am more and more certain that I made the right decision to keep you, Jewel of the North. You add a piquancy to everything!' Nevertheless he clenched his fist, and the girl fell to the ground and writhed in the mud.

The Destroyer addressed his warriors, congratulating them on their courage in overwhelming superior odds. He spent some time describing the lands to the west, explaining to them that they could claim the lands of anyone who had fought against them thus far, or who resisted them in the future. They would leave this valley soon to commence the march to Instruere, which city would be wholly Bhrudwan from the moment the gates were opened to them; but first they would assemble to witness a number of executions and the acceptance of the Falthan surrender.

As night fell, the Bhrudwans moved their camp from around the two hillocks to the centre of the battleground. Soldiers were dispatched to bury the Bhrudwan dead, leaving two hillsides strewn with Falthan corpses. Six far more sinister holes were dug just outside the Bhrudwan encampment, six thick posts driven into them, and limbs hacked from the nearest tree, a bare oak growing in the centre of a small depression perhaps a hundred paces in front of the camp.

Later that evening, after a very poor meal made from the little that remained to them, just over twenty thousand Falthan soldiers began to march westwards from the mouth of a small valley perhaps a league east of the northern bluff upon which Leith had stood. Slowly, so slowly they moved, knowing the net that covered them would not prevent any sound they made from carrying down the valley. All during the long night they crept forward, rank after rank of Instruian Guard led by their incredulous captain, followed by the losian Army of the North - still over five thousand strong, and including almost all the aurochs - with the remnants of the Sna Vazthan army occupying the rear. Occasionally they encountered a Bhrudwan patrol, which they destroyed with ruthless efficiency: they could not afford rumour of an unseen army reaching the ears of the Bhrudwan command.

Just before dawn Leith and the commanders of his army moved forward and out of the cover of the Net of Vanishing. 'We will approach the Bhrudwans as though offering to surrender,'

Indrett explained, outlining her risky idea. 'They will assume we are all that remains: they may have doubts, particularly if they have closely examined the field, but it is unlikely they will anticipate the trick we are playing on them.'

Within minutes they were seen. A swarthy officer rode up, followed by a troop of archers, arrows nocked to bows. 'We are the Army of Faltha,' Leith announced, holding the Jugom Ark up for inspection: the man's narrow eyes widened considerably. 'We have come to discuss terms with your master.'

A man was found who understood the Falthan common tongue, and the officer sent one of his men running towards the large spread of tents they could all see in the distance. Behind Leith his hidden army waited, tense but completely silent. To cover any inadvertent noise, Leith and his commanders sang quietly, as though offering each other solace.

Soon a tall man in a black robe came striding across the open field. Was this the one? Could this be the Destroyer? No, the man was in possession of two hands.

'The Lord of Faltha and Bhrudwo will receive your surrender now,' the man rasped. 'There will be no terms other than those he dictates. Accept this now or be slain where you stand.'

His eyes narrowed in sudden suspicion, and his head jerked left and right. There had been no noise Leith had heard, but perhaps this man had special powers, or they had given themselves away in some other fashion. They stood perfectly still, hardly able to breathe . . . but the tall man could not afford to keep his master waiting.

'We will listen to what your master has to say,' Leith replied carefully. The response was a jerk of the tall man's arm, indicating that they should follow him.

Now was the time of greatest risk. Should anyone try to walk behind Leith's small party, the ruse would be defeated. The Falthan army had to inch its way forward. Wagons had been greased, animals muzzled, and in some cases boots removed, yet the army still feared the slightest sound. Many of the soldiers feared that the beating of their collective hearts would be heard. Stomachs rumbled, and one or two sneezes had to be repressed. Near the rear a man collapsed, wounded the previous afternoon but too proud to admit his hurt, and two others tumbled over his body: the resulting noise sounded deafening in the morning stillness, but their escort did not turn.

Finally Leith and his band stood in the centre of The Cauldron. The Bhrudwan camp occupied a surprisingly small space, but contained many times enough men to wipe out his small group of commanders. One large tent had been pegged a little way in front of the others, and just in front of this tent six stakes had been erected, three to the left, three to the right. The Falthans waited quietly, aware that their army had halted a few hundred paces behind them, just out of arrow-shot.

The shadows slowly crept away from them as the sun rose, and they waited still. The Bhrudwan army emerged from their tents, then began to strike camp. Brown-cloaked soldiers with bibs of various colours gathered from all over the plain, forming ranks stretching left and right behind the large tent. Each warrior found a place amongst his fellows of the same bib colour, then settled down to wait patiently. Morning mist cleared from around the valley rim, and Indrett savoured the warm rays of the sun on her back even as she cursed the weariness in her legs. Finally, she thought ironically, the days of standing in the Firanese Court at Rammr pay off: she could imagine the cramping going on in the hidden army behind her, and hoped fervently that whatever was to happen would not be delayed much longer. Should we simply attack without regard for what the Destroyer might say? As soon as the thought had flickered through her mind, the tent flap parted and six chained figures were led out to stand before them, one in front of each stake.

'The cruel, cruel man,' she hissed in her husband's ear. Behind her Modahl responded: 'He does this to break us. We can do nothing without showing our strength. Do not let this goad us into revealing our weapon untimely. We will weep for them later.'

Indrett did not recognise the six men, though by their dress they appeared to be from Straux and Deuverre. The commander of the Army of Faltha bit her lip in frustration, knowing that by this act the Destroyer wished to emphasise their powerlessness. She sincerely hoped that the King of Straux, who had been forced to remain with the hidden army, would not react to what was about to happen.

The tent flap swung open again, and this time a thin but dignified figure emerged, followed by a much smaller servant.

All eyes were drawn to the man who stood before them, and they did not need to see the handless arm to know who it was.

His face was longer than the Falthan norm, elegant without being truly handsome, with a fine jaw and thin lips. He reminds me of Phemanderac, Indrett thought, and a moment later remembered that the Destroyer had once lived in the philosopher's home town. He looks like Phemanderac, but he feels . . . cold, somehow, aloof, as though he was a glacier hanging over a small village, ready to grind it into pulp.

One hand. The missing hand had been hewn from his arm by the very Arrow in her son Leith's right hand. Did the Jugom Ark behave differently in the presence of its ancient victim?

It still burned, flames running up and down the shaft, but seemed not to know who stood close by.

'Welcome, men and women of Faltha,' the man said in a deep, cultured voice. Laced with Wordweave, of course, Indrett realised; but they had all prepared for that with Modahl's assistance. Don't resist it directly. Let it slide past you. 'In a moment you will present me with the arrow in your possession, which from this day shall be the symbol of my conquest over the plans of the Most High. You will then be taken into captivity, where your suitability for life in the new Faltha will be assessed. Most of you, I am sure, will be able to persuade me that you can abide by my simple requirements.'

Indrett took a step forward, bringing a momentary frown to the brow of the Undying Man, who would surely have expected the Arrow-bearer to speak for the Falthans. 'And if we refuse?' she asked, the words barely emerging from her throat. Speaking to the Undying Man!

How can I dare it? 'What then?'

The Destroyer laughed - and, just behind him, his servant-girl put her fist to her mouth. It was an action that should have given her identity away to the Falthans, had they been watching anything but the man in front of her.

'What then? After I have whittled you away into a nub of pure pain, I will do the same right across Faltha,' he ground out in a voice of ice, then his face changed. 'Do not be mistaken!' he roared suddenly. 'I can choose to unleash such destruction that future travellers will never suspect people once lived in this land! Or,' he continued, his voice now level again, 'I can place Falthans to rule benevolently in my stead, and return to Bhrudwo happy in the knowledge I have achieved all I needed to, having proved to two continents that I, not the Most High, am the supreme authority in the world. Which of these courses I take will depend in large measure on the cooperation I receive today. Now, do you surrender the Jugom Ark to me, and with that act gift me Lordship of Faltha?'

Indrett took a pace forwards. It was as difficult as walking into a huge wave. 'We could fight you for it,' she said quietly.

Instantly the Net of Vanishing disappeared, and forty thousand Falthan warriors suddenly materialised in the middle of the valley. The losian magicians sustained an illusion which duplicated the entire army, which, it was hoped, would fool even the sharp eyes of their foe.

Most gratifyingly, groans of dismay rumbled across the plain, involuntarily forced from thousands of Bhrudwan throats: men who thought their fighting was over now faced an army which once again overmatched them. A burst of cheering arose from the Falthan prisoners penned by guards some distance away.

At the moment of her pronouncement Indrett locked her eyes on those of the Lord of Bhrudwo. His face showed no visible change. Surely he must have been taken by surprise?

Unless he already knew of their deceit and had made plans to counter it. Or ... a new thought entered her mind. Are we the only ones to use illusion? Maybe he does not show his true face to us.

'As you can see, we are.not quite ready to surrender just yet,' she said in the voice of a northern peasant, all the better to irritate the man. 'Perhaps you have another proposal to set before us. Otherwise, we will ready ourselves for another battle with your army, the outcome of which is less certain than you would like it to be.' She smiled; then, as an afterthought, she added: 'And you can take those silly posts down. You're not impressing anyone with your absurd ruthlessness.' She folded her arms, having finished her scolding of an errant child.

Still not a flicker: the man must have incredible self-control. Well, he's had two thousand years to practise.

'So, an impasse,' he said in a voice of stone. His voice betrays him, Indrett thought. 'What, then, is to stop me ordering my army to drive your ragged remnants right across the valley and into the river? Or,' he added, a new thought coming to him, 'threatening to put to death six thousand prisoners unless you withdraw? Surely you wish to leave the field with at least a small portion of your pride intact?'

Indrett smiled at him, endeavouring to keep her demeanour ironic, her tone light. 'If I was the cruel and pitiless leader of a ravening horde gathered and trained to sweep across Faltha, I think I'd ensure that I had enough soldiers left to complete the job,' she said. 'You attack us now, and the likelihood is that you will eventually emerge victorious. But I imagine the few hundred battered and bleeding survivors that remained to you would be defeated by the next fighting force you came across. Or did you think we were all that could be raised against you? No, we are but the first wave. Even as I speak to you, armies prepare to march eastwards, and ships from the Southern Kingdoms put into Instruere's docks. Weigh my words and know them for true! Your only hope of final victory is to leave here with your entire force intact, which you will find difficult to do, as you are a man who has not yet mastered his pride.' She smiled sunnily at him, still watching his eyes, which glittered with malevolence at her. He wants to tear out my heart, she realised.

'So, man of ancient wisdom, hear the counsel of a peasant woman of forty summers. Gather the tired remains of your army, along with your badly bruised reputation, and take the eastward road. Perhaps we might entertain you again after you've thought things through more completely.'

The only sign that her words had impacted on him was a slight thinning of the lips. Someone will suffer for this, Indrett thought ruefully. I only hope it's not us.

'As I said, an impasse,' he said companionably. 'I have made my offer, and you have countered with yours. Go back to your counsellors and consider my terms. I will not wait long.'

He has some other plan in mind, Indrett knew. As much as we have discomfited him, he still has the power here. We will have to await his next move.

That move was not long in coming.

'Son of Mahnum! Son of Mahnum!' a voice boomed across the valley, drawing the Falthan leaders from their hastily-erected tent. 'Come and face me, Son of Mahnum!'

The Destroyer stood alone at the far edge of a small depression, some distance from his own tent. As the Falthans drew nearer they could see he no longer wore his grey cloak.

Instead, he was garbed in armour, and wore a broad helm on his head. Against his right hip hung a silver scabbard, from which he drew a long sword with a curve near the point.

'What is he doing?' Leith asked.

His father put a hand on his shoulder. 'Unless I'm mistaken, your mother has done her job far more effectively than we might have wished.'

'Is that good?' asked Leith, thoroughly confused. His father regarded him for a moment, then squeezed his shoulder.

'No, Leith,' he said gravely. 'It is not good.'

'Son of Mahnum!' cried the Destroyer yet again as he handed his helm to his ever-present serving girl, who placed it quickly on the ground as if it burned her. 'Son of Mahnum! Heed my challenge or forever be known as craven!'

'Go forward and listen to what he has to say,' Kurr whispered in his ear. 'But be careful.

Though we have magicians ready to act, it may be at the cost of losing our phantom army.'

Leith moved out from behind his leaders and stood in the open, knees shaking, the flame in his hand pulsing with the rhythm of his heart. 'What is it you want?' he replied, his voice husky with fear. ...

'This is what I propose, to preserve honour and to bring this war to a close. Listen to me, champion of Faltha, for I will make this offer only the once.' He raised his voice, and his magic carried his words to both armies: to the Bhrudwans with their Falthan captives, and to the Falthans themselves, the Instruians, the losian army, and all Leith's other allies.

'Hear me! The Undying Man, the Lord of Bhrudwo, offers challenge in single combat to the son of Mahnum, Trader of Faltha and sometime visitor to Andratan, thereby to prove upon his body the right and wrong of the present conflict!

A Truthspell will be spoken, and both armies will be bound by the result of the combat.

Should victory go to the son of Mahnum, the forces of Bhrudwo will renounce their claim to Falthan lands, both now and at any future time, and will set out on the eastward road before nightfall this day. A Declaration of Withdrawal will then be signed by the Chief of the Maghdi Dasht and the Bearer of the Arrow, and thus the Truthspell shall be sealed. But should the Lord of Bhrudwo prove the stronger, the Falthan army will surrender and disperse to their homes, except for their commanders who will be held captive by Bhrudwo. Upon the signing of the Declaration of Surrender by the Undying Man and by whomever commands the Falthan army, the Truthspell shall be sealed; and he shall be given lordship of Instruere, and shall claim tribute from any other lands whose people are represented here. Thus shall the war be decided in favour of one side or the other!'

The magic faded, and the Destroyer brought the full force of his gaze to bear on them all.

'Should I defeat you, son of Mahnum, I will take the woman who spoke for you this morning and make her my personal servant, replacing the present holder of this position who has outlived her usefulness.' Again the hand in the mouth, and this time the Haufuth saw the servant-girl for who she was, and what had been done to her, but managed somehow to stifle his shout of grief.

The hateful figure drew himself up to his full height. 'You may use any weapon you wish, including the arrow you hold in your hand. And I will use whatever weapon I choose.' He paused, and again Leith felt magic ripple through the air. 'Now, do you accept? Or will you flee from this as you have fled from my army? What is it to be, son of Mahnum?'

'I - I. ..' His stuttering reply rang across The Cauldron, and a raven that had set down on the tree in the dell between them burst into startled flight.

Forty thousand ears and more listened for his answer.

'I - I will consider your challenge,' he got out at last. 'You will have my reply within one hour.'

'Good,' replied the Destroyer, laughter playing around the edges of the word. 'As one warrior to another, I offer you advice. Do not wait too long to bring me your answer, for the delay will sap whatever little courage you possess.' And the laughter rang out then, loud and long, and the raven gave a squawk of fright, took to its wings and vanished among the hills.

Leith looked longingly after it, wishing that he, too, could fly away so easily.

'I'm going for a walk,' the Arrow-bearer insisted over the storm of protest. 'Can't 1 have some time to think about it?'

'It is a trap,' Farr argued. 'Do you think the Destroyer would propose a challenge that he was in danger of losing?'

'It's not like you to step back from a fight,' Leith replied sullenly. 'How is it that you offer me such counsel now?'

The acknowledged hero of the Gap frowned at him. 'But I would never take on impossible odds . ..' His voice trailed to a halt amongst nervous laughter. That was, of course, exactly what he had done, to great renown, in the first battle against the Bhrudwans.

'He should fight,' Kurr said. 'For what other reason was his the hand into which the Jugom Ark was given?'

'Are you saying that we should put our faith in the Most High?' snapped the Haufuth angrily.

'I see scant evidence of his assistance up to now, and much evidence suggesting the contrary.'

He bit his lip, on the point of telling them what he had seen.

'We must be realistic. It might be a choice between one man and us all. I fear that we will not survive another battle.' The Captain of the Guard passed a weary hand across his face. 'And I have seen many great things done by the hand of this boy. The parting of the Aleinus River, the discovery of the Jugom Ark, the ending of the Battle of the Four Halls. I am willing to put my trust in the strength provided us.'

'What does Hal say?' Phemanderac said. 'He was one of the original Company, and he often sees truly. His advice here would be of much interest.'

'He is not here,' his mother said, troubled, 'and he cannot be found.' She sighed. 'I fear my clever words have led us to this place. If it were any other hands holding the Arrow I would counsel them to take the risk. But since his hands carry my blood, I do not want him to do this thing.'

'I thank you for your thoughts,' Leith told them politely, his face white, 'but I wish to make up my own mind. I am going away somewhere I can be alone so I can think about this. I will trust the jugom Ark to protect me.'

'But what if this whole thing was designed to draw you out in just such a solitary walk?' the Fodhram leader asked. 'Is it not folly to wander unprotected on paths that may be patrolled by the enemy?'

'I am not unprotected,' Leith responded, and the Arrow roared briefly into flame, driving his friends away from him. 'Very well, I will take one guard, of the losian, so that if I fall, there might still be a hand to pick up the Jugom Ark.'

Axehaft stepped forward. 'I will accompany you,' he said stoutly. 'Any Bhrudwan ambushers will need to wear knee-length armour.' And he laughed, a refreshing sound that, for a moment at least, eased the tension among the Falthan commanders.

'It is difficult, this,' reflected the leader of the Widuz, as the tent flap closed behind Leith and the small Fodhram warrior. 'Months of fighting, and it all comes down to a moment like this.

We are uneasy because we can do nothing.' Heads nodded all around him. 'He will choose to fight, because he has gone to find his courage. He will fight well. I have heard the tales of how he survived Wambakalven, and know the measure of his courage. He will fight well.'

His feet led him to the top of the bluff. Up here the breeze blew, and it was much colder than the early spring warmth down below. For a moment he closed his eyes, and again he could see the rainbow stretched across Vulture's Craw, again he could hear the groaning of Sir Amasian.

Again he saw the vast hand rise up and snatch the rainbow from the sky.

Always our enemy will counter our best efforts, Leith realised. Always he has out-thought us.

Perhaps it is time to risk all.