Silence descended, the meaning behind that statement slowly taking shape. Locked in a war against an entire continent . . . stumbling onto a recognition of an even greater threat – the Pannion Domin . . . shall the Empire alone fight on behalf of a hostile land? Yet . . . how to fashion allies among enemies, how to unify against a greater threat with the minimum of fuss and mistrust? Outlaw your occupying army, so they’ve ‘no choice’ but to step free of Laseen’s shadow. Dujek, ever loyal Dujek – even the ill-conceived plan of killing the last of the Old Guard – Tayschrenn’s foolishness and misguided idea – insufficient to turn him. So now he has allies – those who were once his enemies – perhaps even Caladan Brood and Anomander Rake themselves . . . Duiker turned to Coltaine and saw the same knowledge there in his drawn, stern visage.

The Wickan reached out and received the gift.

‘The Empress must not lose you, Fist. Wear it, sir. Always. And when the time comes, break it – against your own chest. Even if it’s your last act, though I suggest you do not leave it until then. Such were its creator’s frantic instructions.’ Karpolan grinned again. ‘And such a man, that creator! A dozen Ascendants would dearly love his head served up on a plate, his eyes pickled, his tongue skewered and roasted with peppers, his ears grilled—’

‘Your point is made,’ Duiker cut in.

Coltaine placed the chain around his neck and slipped the bottle beneath his buckskin shirt.

‘A dire battle awaits you come dawn,’ Karpolan said after a time. ‘I cannot stay, will not stay. Though mage of the highest order, though merchant of ruthless cunning, I admit to a streak of sentimentality, gentlemen. I will not stand witness to this tragedy. More, we have one more delivery to make before we begin our return journey, and its achievement shall demand all of my skills, indeed, may exhaust them.’

‘I had never before heard of your Guild, Karpolan,’ Duiker said, ‘but I would hear more of your adventures, some day.’

‘Perhaps the opportunity will arise, Historian. For now, I hear my shareholders gathering, and I must see to reviving and quelling the horses – although, it must be said, they seem to have acquired a thirst for wild terror. No different from us, eh?’ He rose.

‘My thanks to you,’ Coltaine growled, ‘and your shareholders.’

‘Have you a word for Dujek Onearm, Fist?’

The Wickan’s response startled Duiker, slipping a rough blade of suspicion into him that would remain, nagging and fearful.

‘No.’

Karpolan’s eyes widened momentarily, then he nodded. ‘We must be gone, alas. May your enemy pay dearly come the morrow, Fist.’

‘They shall.’

Sudden bounty could not affect complete rejuvenation, but the army that rose with the dawn revealed a calm readiness that Duiker had not seen since Gelor Ridge.