Word came via the many fishing launches and ship’s boats oaring between the four vessels that Captain Cartheron was recovering and that he’d chosen to remain on board the Supplicant for the while. Ieleen had chuckled throatily at that news and when Jute made a questioning sound she explained: ‘Gettin’ together, those two. Much to talk about, no doubt.’

Jute had frowned at the news, baffled. What could such a potent sorceress see in that battered old veteran? Certainly, he’d had his heyday as a top lieutenant and confidant of the hoary old emperor, but all that had been long ago.

The further east they ventured the thicker and more persistent the ground fog and banks of mist became. Jute could even watch it pouring down the forest slopes and out over the calm waters like some sort of liquid itself. At first he was alarmed, as it reminded him of the enchanted fogs of the Sea of Dread. But Ieleen did not seem concerned, and so he decided it must be a purely natural phenomenon.

Also growing in number were those chunks of floating ice, some as large as the vessels themselves. Jute kept a number of the crew permanently armed with poles to fend the hazards off. They also occasionally encountered great sheets of ice loose upon the surface. These passed lazily, drifting south. Some appeared no thicker than a skin, others a good arm’s depth of rock-hard ice.

It occurred to Jute that they were witnessing a spring break-up, and that somewhere to the east there must lie a great congestion of ice.

Farmsteads emerged from the mists: modest log and sod huts amid clearings hacked from the forest. Rounding a bay they came to a broad low headland, cloaked in fog, where a single tall keep of stone reared close to a rising cliff behind. A clutch of huts and cleared fields surrounded it and the shore was crowded by vessels heaved up upon the flats. Jute counted some fifty of them.

East of this lay an inlet choked in ice. Jute could hear the grinding and groaning of the massive sheet. Behind the inlet, further inland, rose what appeared to be a mountain of ice – a great sky-blue dome that gleamed like a sapphire jewel.

‘If only you could see this, dearest,’ he told Ieleen, awed.

‘I see something,’ she murmured, and she did not sound pleased by it.

The Supplicant anchored clear of the shore, while Jute had the crew drive the Dawn up on to the flats. The Ragstopper anchored next to the sorceress’s vessel; the Resolute drew up next to the Dawn. Jute was troubled to see all the nearby ships were empty of any crew. No guards or watches, and no teams working on repairs even though most were quite badly in need of it.

He ordered a watch, armed himself, and kissed Ieleen on the cheek.

‘Have a care, luv,’ she told him. ‘I’ve a sense our friend isn’t the only power here.’