He waited in the deepening water as the barge span towards its final doom. In the last moment before it hit, he leapt from the boat’s prow, grasping the crumbling stanchion and pulling himself up. The barge smashed against what remained of the bridge, broke in two, and was quickly consumed by the river. The bodies of the general and his men were swept into the treacherous arms of the Midral Sea.

It was nothing for Forest to scale the wall into Steelhaven. Nothing for him to avoid the attention of the Greencoats, their duty ineffectual as they sheltered from the rain.

The streets were deserted, swept clear of the drudges who usually filled them by the torrential rain. Forest was glad of it; he would rather have suffered the cold and rain any day, than endure the multitude of city folk who walked this place as though in a stupor. He hated them, hated this place, but he was bound here by his devotion to the Father of Killers. Nothing would ever see that devotion questioned.

It took little time to return to the sanctum where the cloying dark of the subterranean tunnels offered shelter from the driving rain. In places the tunnels were flooded, the rainwater flowing in rivers through the underground passages, but Forest knew the secret ways, and in no time was at the central cavern.

He knelt in silence waiting for the Father. It could be a long vigil; the Father of Killers came at his own behest and Forest had sometimes waited for days. Mercifully, the Father was eager to learn that his son had succeeded.

‘The general?’ came a deep voice from the darkness.

‘Is dead.’ Forest kept to himself that achieving this had been neither quick nor easy.

The Father moved closer. ‘I am pleased,’ he said, stepping into the winking torchlight, his face drawn, troubled. For days he had mourned the loss of Mountain, and even more the loss of River – his favoured son. Forest hated River for that. Hated him more than ever for his betrayal and what he had done to their Father.

‘I live to serve, Father. I live to destroy the enemies—’

‘I know, my son,’ the Father interrupted. His voice held an edge of annoyance and for a second Forest wondered if he would indeed feel the sting of the whip, but instead the Father of Killers laid a hand on his head. ‘You are the most loyal of all, my one remaining son. And I have a further task for you.’

‘Name it, Father,’ Forest replied looking up eagerly, yearning for another chance to make his Father proud. As he did so he noticed the Father held two iron nails in his hands, rubbing them between his thumb and finger as though they gave him comfort.

‘You might be less willing when you learn of the task I would have you perform.’

‘I will do anything you ask.’

The Father smiled. ‘I know you will, my son.’

He took a step back and gestured for his son to rise. Forest obeyed, eager to know what would be asked of him.

‘River is at Keidro Bay. The Lords of the Serpent Road are being brought to heel as we speak and his task almost done. You will travel to Aluk Vadir. When River has completed his mission, he will travel there to receive his next instruction.’ The Father fixed Forest with his stare. ‘And there you will kill him.’

Forest understood the Father’s words, but could barely believe what he was hearing. Any other time he would have obeyed immediately, would already be on his way to carry out the Father’s bidding. Instead, he shook his head.

‘But we entered into a pact with him. He has upheld his part of the bargain. Why are we—?’

‘Do you question me, Forest?’

The Father’s words stung more than any whip and Forest quickly bowed his head in shame.

‘No, Father.