Perhaps she wasn’t so oblivious to them after all. Her pace quickened. The two Northmen darted across to the shelter of the huge wall.

‘Cunning little minx, ain’t she?’ hissed Einar.

They reached the end of the Hippodrome, leaving behind the massive south gate and heading for the public gardens and open grounds of the stadium beyond. ‘Keep up, lad,’ said Einar. ‘She’s slipping away from us.’

‘I’m trying to, for Frigg’s sake.’ Erlan’s right hip was still stiff and bruised from the fall, let alone the older wound that always held him back.

‘We’re going to have to run, lad.’

‘You go ahead. I think she’s heading for the wall.’

‘Right you are. Pull your finger out your arse, hey?’

Truth be told, Einar hadn’t had this much fun in a while, and with a belly full of drink, he could’ve run a mile and hardly drawn breath.

There, you see – he thought to himself – all that riding must have done me some good after all. Sweet Orlana, bless her mad little head, she’d put him in fine fettle.

He dodged from tree to tree to keep from being seen, though it was proving harder to keep the fugitive shadow in sight. But he was determined not to lose her. They were soon passing beyond the gardens and weaving through a small district with scattered houses. He guessed from the size of them this must be a precinct of the wealthier patricians and senators, but she hurried on straight through it towards a quiet section of the sea wall.

To the right, there was a stone tower topped with a dim flare. His quarry went left, heading for a lonely staircase leading up to a deserted battlement.

He watched the shadow bound nimbly up the steps to the walkway. If she was going over the top, he was damned if he was going to follow her, whatever that pup Erlan said. She had stopped at the top and was looking out to sea. He eased up and watched from a distance. She started unwinding something from her waist. A rope, he realized, and swore. He would miss her if he didn’t hurry and all this chasing around would be for nothing.

He could hear Erlan behind, lumbering along like some bull lost in the forest. Blast the boy, he thought, the woman would have to be deaf as the dead not to hear him. He shuffled forward, pressing himself to the wall but moving up the steps as fast as he dared. As his head drew level with the walkway, he saw the woman was crouched low, tying off her rope around one of the battlements.

It was a calculated risk. But he was tired of sneaking around.