Kilp lived in the Governor’s House, a vast mansion of six levels that with its broad outer courtyard took up all the space between the Western High Aqueduct and Carmine Street. It was typically built of white stone and red tiles, but unlike other houses in Belisaere it boasted a fifteen-foot-high curtain wall around its grounds, and the house itself had a tower on each corner, topped with cupolas of greenish bronze.

The courtyard was full of a great number of guards, from many different guilds. There were scores of them, sitting, standing, wandering around, eating, drinking, talking … all clearly waiting for something, their halberds, spears, bows, helmets and other weapons and paraphernalia of war stacked in neat piles around the courtyard, under guild flags that had been thrust into barrels of sand.

‘Why are all these guards here?’ Clariel asked one of their own, as she was helped down out of the palanquin.

‘There’s rioters gathering in the Flat, milady,’ said the guard. ‘Troublemakers going to march on the Governor, so they say. Don’t expect they’ll hang about when they see us waiting for ’em.’

‘Why are they rioting?’ asked Clariel.

‘Couldn’t say, milady,’ replied the guard, his face wooden. Before she could ask more, he’d stepped back and joined a file waiting to escort them to the house proper.

‘Come along,’ said Jaciel. ‘Harven!’

Harven ran up to Jaciel’s side and took her arm, and they swept on up to the broad front steps of the house, Clariel following along behind. The flickering light of oil lanterns lit their way, with no Charter Magic illumination to be seen, not even the soft sheen of the old marks that must have been in the stone of the steps and the railings, and so must have been chipped away or painted over.

The rain began to fall more heavily as they reached the front door, which stood open, Goldsmith guards standing on either side. A servant, dressed entirely in cloth of gold, bowed low as they stepped through to the entrance hall. This again was lit only by lanterns, and crowded with yet more guards, mostly officers of the various Guild Companies, in fancier clothes and armour, many sporting expensive decorations on the hilts and scabbards of their swords.

The cloth-of-gold-clad servant, some kind of major-domo, coughed gently to get their attention and said, ‘Welcome, Lady Jaciel, Master Harven, Lady Clariel. The Governor wishes to apologise for the unusual circumstances in the house. Please follow me to the Governor’s study.’