“I’ve an idea.” Day’s face had broken out in an unexpected smile. Monza followed her pointing finger, up to the roofline above the garden, and squinted into the sun. A black figure crouched there against the bright sky.

“A fine afternoon to you!” She never thought she’d be glad to hear Castor Morveer’s scraping whine. “I was hoping to view the Duke of Visserine’s famous collection and I appear to have become entirely lost! I don’t suppose any of you kind gentlefolk know where I might find it? I hear he has Bonatine’s greatest work!”

Monza jerked her bloody thumb at the ruined statue. “Not all it’s cracked up to be!”

Vitari had appeared beside the poisoner now, was smoothly lowering a rope. “We’re rescued,” grunted Friendly, in just the same tone as he might have said, “We’re dead.”

Monza hardly had the energy even to feel pleased. She hardly knew if she was pleased. “Day, Shivers, get up there.”

“No doubt.” Day tossed her bow away and ran for it. The Northman frowned at Monza for a moment, then followed.

Friendly was looking down at Cosca. “What about him?” The old mercenary seemed to have dozed off for a moment, eyelids flickering.

“We’ll have to pull him up. Get a hold.”

The convict slid one arm around his back and started to lift him. Cosca woke with a jolt, grimaced. “Dah! No, no, no, no, no.” Friendly let him carefully back down and Cosca shook his scabby head, breathing ragged. “I’m not screaming my way up a rope just so I can die on a roof. Here’s as good a place as any, and this as good a time. I’ve been promising to do it for years. Might as well keep my word this once.”

She squatted down beside him. “I’d rather call you a liar one more time, and keep you watching my back.”

“I only stayed there… because I like looking at your arse.” He bared his teeth, winced, gave a long growl. The clanging at the gate was getting louder.

Friendly offered Cosca’s sword to him. “They’ll be coming. You want this?”

“Why would I? It was messing with those things got me into this fix in the first place.” He tried to shift, winced and sagged back, his skin already carrying that waxy sheen that corpses have.

Vitari and Morveer had bundled Shivers over the gutter and onto the roof. Monza jerked her head at Friendly. “Your turn.”

He crouched there for a moment, not moving, then looked to Cosca. “Do you want me to stay?”

The old mercenary took Friendly’s big hand and smiled as he gave it a squeeze. “I am touched beyond words to hear you make the offer. But no, my friend. This I had better handle alone. Give your dice a roll for me.”

“I will.” Friendly stood and strode off towards the rope without a backward glance. Monza watched him go. Her hands, her shoulder, her leg burned, her battered body ached. Her eyes slunk over the bodies scattered across the garden. Sweet victory. Sweet vengeance. Men turned into meat.