‘No, sir,’ said Clariel shortly. She almost said something else, but Roban had edged into her vision and his eyes, at least, were alive with an emotion, one she recognised as apprehension, perhaps even fear. She shut her mouth, and saw Roban’s throat move slightly, a barely noticeable gulp of relief.

‘I am pleased to hear it,’ said Kilp. He lifted his head and raised his voice, speaking not to Clariel, but to the few people still around, and no doubt to the others listening behind shutters and doors in the shops and houses nearby. ‘If you had been injured or, Charter forbid, killed, then we would not rest to bring the assassin to justice. Indeed, should any of my Guildmembers suffer such an attack again, we would be forced to close off the location, forbid all business, search all within and take any further action that might be warranted.’

He looked at Clariel and smiled again. She smiled back, the smile she used for customers who were trying to sneak bad coins in payment, pass an alloy as pure gold, or otherwise cheat her parents’ business.

‘Perhaps I can escort you home, Lady Clariel?’ he asked. ‘To be certain of your safety.’

Clariel shook her head. She didn’t know what was going on, but she was certain she didn’t want to spend any more time in Kilp’s company than was absolutely necessary.

‘No thank you, Guildmaster. We have not yet completed our purchases. Valannie, please, let us continue.’

Valannie looked frightened now, more fearful than Roban had done a few moments before, as if declining Kilp’s invitation was akin to putting Clariel’s head on the block. Or maybe Valannie’s head, since Clariel doubted the maid was at heart concerned with anyone other than herself.

‘Oh, milady! After such a terrible ordeal, surely you should accept the Governor’s kind offer and go straight home? I can buy everything you need, I have your sizes and –’

‘I prefer to do it myself,’ said Clariel. ‘By your leave, sir?’

She bowed to Kilp again, and took a step backwards.

‘You are brave,’ said the Guildmaster. ‘If perhaps a little headstrong. We must take care nothing happens to you. Roban, take two of my guards. Whomsoever you please. Lady Clariel, till we meet again …’

He inclined his head, and strode past, a couple of his men running ahead, while most of them fell in behind. As they passed, Roban gestured to a tall man with a scarlet-dyed beard, who stepped out and waited, and then again to a woman with a scar across her chin that drew the corner of her mouth down, who also left the marchers.

‘Heyren and Linel,’ Roban said shortly. ‘Used to be Royal Guards, like me.’

‘Milady,’ said Heyren, the red-bearded guard. Scar-faced Linel simply bobbed her head.