The wine tasted sweet and strong. She knew the Byzantine habit was to dilute their wine to a thin, refreshing drink, often flavoured with other spices. The general served his undiluted. Perhaps he wanted to appear extravagant, or else cloud her head. She took a sip and twirled the chalice in her fingers. It was solid silver with gilt filigree, encrusted with fat pink rubies. War had made this man rich.

Everything in the chamber reeked of opulence. The silk curtains, the white stone balcony overlooking the point of the promontory, the green marble table, the gilded chairs, the murals of half-clad men and women dancing about a sunlit wood. It showed a certain degree of taste, she supposed, and said more of the man before her than the impersonal extravagance of the palace said of the emperor.

‘Lord Katāros wanted to join us. He seems to think you cannot speak our language,’ said Arbasdos. ‘I told him we would cope.’

‘I hope you are right,’ she said. ‘I am still learning.’ She had already decided that this general was a different breed to the emperor. She detected a streak of vanity in the little details of his appearance – the curls in his hair not entirely natural, the gold ring in his left ear, the musky perfume drifting off him. Not unpleasant, she had to admit, but deliberate. His tunic stopped a little higher than those of other men, revealing tanned, muscular calves under the leather bands of his sandals, and his dalmatica – a kind of lightweight coat, open at the front – was of deep green silk, studded here and there with pearls as big as her thumbnail.

‘You’re too modest,’ he smiled. ‘Anyway, I can’t stand the creature. He somehow oils his way into everybody’s business.’

Lilla offered a non-committal smile in reply.

‘And what is our business, my lady?’

‘It is simple enough. You hold a man here. His name is Erlan Aurvandil.’

At mention of that name, the general’s smile soured. ‘You mean my Northman.’

‘So you don’t deny he is here.’

‘Why on Earth should I? He may be a disobedient wretch. But he belongs to me.’

‘I have come here for him.’

‘For the Northman,’ he scoffed. ‘Why?’

‘I have my reasons.’

‘Hm. How very mysterious.’

‘I’ll repay you whatever he cost you.’

‘He’s not for sale.’

Lilla frowned. ‘If he’s so worthless to you, what reason have you to keep—’

‘I never said he was worthless. He’s difficult, for sure. But the truth is I’ve never seen a man use a sword with greater skill, nor fight with such. . . rage.’ The general chuckled. ‘He’s actually quite terrifying. That’s why I’m keeping him.’

‘He’ll never fight for you. Not after being kept like an animal.’