Chloe opened her mouth, but then snapped it closed as the boy approached with their tea. Finally she answered, speaking in a low tone. ‘Where are they taking Liana?’

‘Your friend?’ His round face screwed up. ‘Is she an eldran?’ Chloe nodded and Cob scratched the stubble on his chin. ‘Dion’s mentioned her. What happened?’

‘They wanted her . . . We’d only just got here . . . The innkeeper gave us away.’ Chloe’s expression darkened when she remembered what the sorcerer, Tarik, had said. ‘It’s like they’re rounding up anyone who might have eldran blood.’

Cob spread his hands. ‘We haven’t been here long, and I can’t hazard a guess what they want with her. But we’ll find out.’

‘How did you know what I looked like?’

‘I saw you once before. At the harbor in Phalesia, around the time that Ilean warship first arrived. You were yelling at us to stay clear of it.’ He grinned. ‘I feel like I know you, lass. Sailing is a lonely business. I’ve heard him talk about you many, many times.’

Chloe glanced down at the table and felt her face redden. She changed the subject. ‘What have you learned so far? Is Dion here?’

‘He’s here. At least, he was recently.’

She looked up sharply. ‘How do you know?’

His face turned grim. ‘I have some news, and I’m afraid it isn’t good. Isobel is dead.’

Chloe put a hand to her mouth.

‘They killed her in the street . . . We spoke to people who saw it. An arrow took her right between the shoulder blades. Seems Dion was trying to rescue her at the time.’ Cob rubbed at his eyes and glanced away. ‘So the bride of our king is dead, along with his unborn child.’ He cocked his head. ‘You knew, didn’t you?’

Chloe nodded, not trusting herself to speak as tears welled in her eyes.

‘If he’s still alive – and I have to tell myself he is – he’ll be a broken man.’

‘You mentioned others. Who’s with you?’

‘We couldn’t risk more than a couple of us. Dion’s uncle thinks there’ll be a ransom attempt, but he hasn’t met Palemon. We’re the Free Men, and our king is not free. There’s me, and there’s Finn.’

‘Finn? Where is he?’

Cob scowled. ‘Getting himself into trouble.’

Finn entered the throne room grandly, swirling his crimson cloak as he turned to face the king. He gave a majestic bow, culminating in a flourish. Palemon appeared unimpressed, but Finn allowed not the slightest sign of his rising trepidation to show. He could do this.

‘So you are a historian?’ Palemon asked.

‘A chronicler, King Palemon. Famed throughout the Maltherean Sea. My name is Fustalonious and—’

‘What kind of a name is that?’ Tall and imposing, standing in front of the ebony throne, Palemon’s expression was puzzled.