Ucho was still talking. ‘—be done with him soon enough, all right, and good riddance, if you ask me! What good is he to anyone, anyway? Nix!’

Albert looked up at him angrily. ‘Well, what good are you to anyone, either, huh?’

There was silence in the tent for a moment. Ucho glared at him, his blue eyes bulging slightly, his face black and hostile. ‘What did you say to me?’

‘I said, what good are you?’

Ucho took a threatening step forward, frowning so hard his brows almost met in the middle of his forehead. ‘You dare—’

‘Yes, I dare! What have you done about finding Theo? Have you found her? Have you acted on the information I gave you? No, you haven’t! You’ve been too busy playing soldiers here! Nix is what you’ve done—nix!’

For the second time in his life, Albert saw Ucho’s mouth wriggle and twist of its own accord. It wasn’t a sight that grew on one. Finally, Ucho spoke, and his tone was as dark as his face. ‘You call what you gave me information? Half-baked hallucinations after a tonk on the head, more like it! What do you want me to do? Pick up every fellow with a red bracelet—’

‘Band,’ interrupted Albert. ‘It was a band, not a bracelet.’

‘Band, bracelet, what’s the difference? All the—you stay out of this, Captain!’

This last to Colby, who was trying to get a word in edgeways, an intent expression in his eyes. ‘But, sir—’

‘I said, stand down, soldier!’

Having successfully quelled his subordinate, he turned back to Albert. ‘So, what do you want me to do, eh?’ he said, his voice more composed now, though it was still a few dozen decibels on the wrong side of pleasantly conversational. ‘Should I round up all the red-banded armed chaps I can find, on the off chance that your pal hasn’t changed his shirt?’

‘The least you can do is to send more men out to look for her!’

‘There are fifteen units out looking, which is almost half my force. And if you think you can walk in here telling me how to run my command, you little—’

‘Well, I wouldn’t if I didn’t have to!’ shot back Albert, well and truly furious now. ‘And if fifteen isn’t good enough, then send twenty! Or go yourself, instead of—’

‘You’ll mind your tone with me, boy, or I’ll have you clapped in—’