‘That does not matter,’ Garidas snapped. ‘The whole sordid tale will be spilling from Kol’s lips soon. His confession is only a formality. Israfil already knows, and he will carve a confession from him, if needs be. Go, now, before it is too late. Once this is settled and over, you will be able to return—’

‘That will be impossible,’ Aphra said. ‘Lorina? Does she know?’

‘Not of Kol’s arrest, no.’ Garidas scowled. ‘She is in league with him. Did you not know?’

‘I suspected,’ Aphra said.

‘We are wasting too much time. You have to leave, now, or it will be too late. I have horses ready for you, a wain if you need it. Come.’ He held out an arm to Aphra, stood there long moments as she hesitated.

‘Please,’ Garidas said.

A creak of leather behind him, a familiar hiss, one they all knew instantly. The sound of a sword being drawn.

Garidas turned, hand on his sword hilt, drawing his blade as he moved.

A sword punched into his belly, low, beneath the line of his cuirass, and he gasped, slumped forwards onto his killer, rested his head upon her shoulder, as if she were his lover.

‘I am sorry, my sword-brother,’ Dalmae said as she pushed him away, pulling her sword free, the splash of blood on stone, and he fell backwards, clutching his gut, staring up at her. He cried out, loud, wordless betrayal, full of pain, and Riv heard an answering call below. Dalmae stepped forwards and stabbed him in the throat.

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO: SIG

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

SIG

‘We’d best leave the track, now,’ Drem said beside Sig. After hearing the news from Ulf’s wife they had ridden hard from Drem’s hold, using a well-worn path that hugged the fringes of the northern woodland. To their right was the Starstone Lake, dark and still, and in the distance Sig saw the outline of a stockade wall, buildings rearing within. A pier jutted into the lake with boats moored along it.

Sig looked up at the sun, veiled behind fraying louds, saw it was a little past highsun. She grunted an agreement with Drem and barked a command, the four of them riding into the eaves of the wood, Hammer ploughing a way through the snow that as good as made a new track, the others falling in behind. Every now and then Sig saw the grey streak of Fen shadowing them.

After a while the woodland grew too close and dense and they dismounted, Drem taking the lead, as he told them he knew the ground a little, which was a lot more than them.