Kalam leaned back clear of the table as the captain went to the cabin door and began struggling with his cloak. Salk Elan had not moved from his seat, watching with a tight smile.

A moment later the captain flung open the cabin door and barrelled into the passageway, bellowing a call for his First Mate. His boots thumped like fists hammering a wall as he made for the galley.

The cabin’s door creaked back and forth on its hinges.

The treasurer’s mouth opened and closed, then opened again. ‘What choice?’ he whispered to no-one in particular.

‘Not yours to make,’ Elan drawled.

The noble swung to him. ‘Not mine? And who else, if not the man entrusted with the Aren treasury—’

‘Is that what it’s officially called, then? How about Pormqual’s ill-gotten loot? Those seals on the crates below have the High Fist’s sigil on them, not the Imperial sceptre—’

And so you have been in the hold, Salk Elan? Interesting.

‘To lay hands upon those crates is punishable by death,’ the treasurer hissed.

Elan sneered his disgust. ‘You’re doing the dirty work of a thief, so what does that make you?’

The noble went white. In silence he rose and, using his hands to steady himself as the ship pitched, made his way across the small room, then out into the passageway.

Salk Elan glanced at Kalam. ‘So, my reluctant friend, what do you make of this captain of ours?’

‘Nothing I’d share with you,’ Kalam rumbled.

‘Your constant efforts to avoid me have been childish.’

‘Well, it’s either that or I kill you outright.’

‘How unpleasant of you, Kalam, after all the efforts I have made on your behalf.’

The assassin rose. ‘Rest assured I’ll repay the debt, Salk Elan.’

‘You could do that with your company alone – intelligent conversation aboard this ship is proving hard to come by.’

‘I’ll spare a thought in sympathy,’ Kalam said, heading to the cabin door.

‘You wrong me, Kalam. I am not your enemy. Indeed, we two are much alike.’

The assassin paused in the portalway. ‘If you’re seeking friendship between us, Salk Elan, you’ve just taken a long step back with that observation.’ He stepped out into the passage and made his way forward.

He emerged onto the main deck and found himself in the midst of furious activity. Gear was being battened down, sailors checking the rigging and others taking in sail. It was past the tenth bell and the night sky was solid clouds, not a star showing.

The captain reeled down to Kalam’s side. ‘What did I tell you? Lost its polish!’

A squall was coming – the assassin could feel it in the wind that now swirled as if the air had nowhere to go.