He dragged himself out of the stream, hauling the sodden hem of his robes behind him. He stumbled upwards, feeling like the first man fighting his way out of the womb of the Earth, thirsty for that first shard of daylight.

Suddenly there it was. He ran, the flame roaring behind him, till he burst out onto an open hillside. Below him he saw the two islands floating at the head of the Horn. Behind him the ground rose to a ridge. He hurried up it, sweating and stumbling his way to the crest.

And there laid out before him was a beautiful sight. The walls of the Great City stretched south like a banner of red and white against the pale dust of the plain; and to the west, the encampment of a hundred thousand men. The Armies of Allah, poised to swallow the city whole.

Katāros’s fist tightened. His long nails dug into his palm. For now he held the key.

CHAPTER TWENTY

If the scale of the city outside was bewildering, the interior of the Great Palace dazzled her senses.

Lilla’s scarlet slippers hurried over the cold marble to keep up with the gold-and-white figure gliding before her. She had followed Lord Katāros for what seemed like leagues through the long, lavish corridors and hallways, dressed in new robes generously provided by the grand chamberlain at his own expense. A gorgeous creation of patterned red silk with gold damask hems and cuffs, demurely covering her from chin to wrist. The girdle of woven gold silk provided the only hint of her figure beneath. Her head was covered with a veil of pure white gossamer through which her long flow of honey-gold hair shone with ease. ‘We don’t want to hide you entirely,’ Katāros had said mysteriously.

Gerutha had cast a more doubtful eye over Lilla’s new appearance. ‘Don’t you forget who you are,’ she said.

‘How could I?’

Indeed. How could she forget? This could be the first step on the long journey back to her home. And her revenge. Perhaps fate was already smiling on her. That very morning Einar had come to the palace bearing tidings.

Lilla had sent word to him from the palace, hoping it would reach him at their lodgings in the inn under the Sign of the Dolphin off the Grand Portico on the north side of the city. After two days of waiting, their new servant Yana had knocked at the door of Lilla’s chambers and announced that a ‘brute of a man’ was demanding to see her.

Einar’s news was both astonishing and alarming. Erlan was alive and in the city. But by her karl’s account, he was either imprisoned or enslaved or maybe worse. He had come not a moment too soon, since the summoning for her audience with the emperor followed hard on his heels.