He advanced towards the dais, without undue speed, looking neither right nor left. He passed through the half-circle of assorted murderers and stopped precisely at the line. He watched General Ganmark stride past the guards and up the steps to the throne, lean to whisper in Orso’s ear while the chamberlain took up a disapproving pose at his other elbow.

The grand duke stared at Shenkt for a long moment and Shenkt stared back, the hall cloaked all the while in that oppressive silence that only great spaces can produce. “So this is he. Why is he not kneeling?”

“He does not kneel, apparently,” said Ganmark.

“Everyone else kneels. What makes you special?”

“Nothing,” said Shenkt.

“But you do not kneel.”

“I used to. Long ago. No more.”

Orso’s eyes narrowed. “And what if a man tried to make you?”

“Some have tried.”

“And?”

“And I do not kneel.”

“Stand, then. My son is dead.”

“You have my sorrow.”

“You do not sound sorrowful.”

“He was not my son.”

The chamberlain nearly choked on his tongue, but Orso’s sunken eyes did not deviate. “You like to speak the truth, I see. Blunt counsel is a valuable thing to powerful men. You come to me with the highest recommendations.”

Shenkt said nothing.

“That business in Keln. I understand that was your work. All of that, your work alone. It is said that the things that were left could hardly be called corpses.”

Shenkt said nothing.

“You do not confirm it.”

Shenkt stared into Duke Orso’s face, and said nothing.

“You do not deny it, though.”

More nothing.

“I like a tight-lipped man. A man who says little to his friends will say less than nothing to his enemies.”

Silence.

“My son is murdered. Thrown from the window of a brothel like rubbish. Many of his friends and associates, my citizens, were also killed. My son-in-law, his Majesty the King of the Union, no less, only just escaped the burning building with his life. Sotorius, the half-corpse Chancellor of Sipani who was their host, wrings his hands and tells me he can do nothing. I am betrayed. I am bereaved. I am… embarrassed. Me!” he screamed suddenly, making the chamber ring, and every person in it flinch.

Every person except Shenkt. “Vengeance, then.”

“Vengeance!” Orso smashed the arm of his chair with his fist. “Swift and terrible.”

“Swift I cannot promise. Terrible—yes.”

“Then let it be slow, and grinding, and merciless.”

“It may be necessary to cause some harm to your subjects and their property.”

“Whatever it takes. Bring me their heads. Every man, woman or child involved in this, to the slightest degree. Whatever is necessary. Bring me their heads.”

“Their heads, then.”

“What will be your advance?”

“Nothing.”

“Not even—”

“If I complete the job, you will pay me one hundred thousand scales for the head of the ringleader, and twenty thousand for each assistant to a maximum of one quarter of a million. That is my price.”

“A very high one!” squeaked the chamberlain. “What will you do with so much money?”