The colonel’s tent was no different to any other from the outside, though I wondered if there was some differentiating mechanism that only a soldier would understand. Cornet Pitzmun dismounted and I waved away her offer of assistance.

‘Wrinkle-faced maybe, but I wasn’t at the siege of Esteberg, nor the Christ’s Day Revolution.’

Pitzmun appeared to take great joy in our shared joke, her laughter worryingly enthusiastic. I resolved that when I exited the colonel’s tent, whenever that may be, I would not find myself in Pitzmun’s company for too much longer. There was something off about the young woman.

She held open the tent flap and then announced me as if I were a minor royal.

The colonel held up a finger to forestall my greeting. He was sitting in a handsome wingback chair, reading under ample candlelight. He wore a tightly curled wig and had a moustache that could have been the envy of every fashionable man in the King’s court. His ruddy complexion suggested the life of a soldiering officer agreed with him. With a nod of satisfaction he closed the book, though he kept a finger there to mark his place.

‘Tabitha should have seen off that scoundrel, Mr Wolff, a long time ago,’ the colonel said.

‘Excuse me, sir?’ I said, glancing towards Pitzmun, but she was already taking her leave of the tent.

‘Romances, Special Inspector, I cannot get enough of them. There’s not a one printed this year I have not read.’

‘I see.’

‘I only hope, one day, we will produce as many books as we do rifles.’ He sounded wistful.

Perhaps it was this, alongside his apparent taking of me into his confidence, that made me reply casually, ‘Would that be good or bad for Reikova?’

He regarded me for an intense moment and then said, ‘I will give that some thought.’

‘I—’

‘Now, Inspector, you are to be billeted in your own tent. The King was very clear on that. Very clear you should be made comfortable and safe for the journey. Your tent is a bit smaller than our usual fare,’ he said, gesturing to the ceiling of his own accommodation, ‘but then you won’t be sharing with four others now, will you?’

From his pause, I realised the question wasn’t meant to be rhetorical. ‘No, sir,’ I said.

‘Very good. Three days to Drekenford – the town for you, the nearby Fort Seeben for my men and I. What do you know of the place, hmm?’

‘Not a great deal,’ I admitted. ‘Only it is not so big, and a long way from the capital in more senses than just the geographical.’

‘Quite so. But, if I may offer some advice, Inspector. Do not be so quick to dismiss the town. It is small, yes, but it is old – older than this fair country of ours. Its traditions and roots stretch deep and wide. It may surprise you, for better or worse.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Well, three days riding, as I said. Though, with any luck we may manage more riding hours with the late sun. How is your day-man set, hmm?’