‘Sir? Sir? Are you all right?’

I woke with the priest leaning over me, his hand on my shoulder. I stared up at him and found my own terror mirrored in his young face, if only briefly.

‘My… apologies,’ I said, blinking against the memory of four figures, four riders, and the end of everything. ‘A vision.’

‘Pardon me?’

‘I was dreaming, Father.’

‘You gave Mrs Tomas quite the fright on her way out.’

The choir was gone. Most of the candles had been snuffed and the Father was wearing a cloak. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘I didn’t mean to fall asleep.’

‘It happens more often than you’d think,’ he said with a smile. ‘I don’t normally wake people, but I have to lock the door.’

‘Lock the door…’

‘Are you sure you are all right?’ the Father said, sitting beside me. His blue eyes were startlingly bright, even in the dim church.

‘You aren’t from here, are you?’ I said, then winced at my own tactlessness.

He waved away my apology. ‘My grandparents travelled north to Drekenford when my mother was a babe-in-arms. Led by a missionary.’

‘From the tribes?’

‘So I’m told. But that was a long time ago. You are from Esteberg.’

‘That’s right. How did you—’

‘Secrets don’t last long in a town like this, Inspector.’

I stared at the priest, who looked plainly back. ‘Is Mrs Harsson a member of your choir?’ I said.

‘She is. As was her son.’

I was the first to break eye-contact, raising my gaze to the eaves. My mouth was dry and I felt a weariness cover every inch of me. ‘I would like to speak with Mrs Harsson.’

‘You don’t need my permission, Inspector.’

‘I would like you to be there.’

‘Me? Whatever for?’ he said.

‘I want her to understand how important this is.’

*

Father Popov agreed to arrange a conversation between the three of us, and to leave word at the Horse and Hound. Mrs Harsson was apparently very old and frail; the Father believed she would be more comfortable if we spoke at her home. She was a devout volunteer in the church, though the Father’s tone suggested her devotion was not always to the church’s benefit. As a young priest he no doubt faced many challenges.

I returned to the inn and, after making enquiries as to Tabitha’s welfare, I ate a modest meal in the common room. Mrs Lehner brought over the plate and glass of wine herself.

‘There we go, Inspector,’ she said, and was heading back to the bar before I could say a word. I glanced about the common room but found it unchanged: no one looked my way, no one whispered or sniggered, and there was no suggestion whatsoever that I was the topic of anyone’s conversation. Yet, I felt exposed.

I made myself eat slowly, and sip my wine long after the plate was cleared away by the bored serving girl. I retired to my room as the tables were beginning to fill with the night’s regulars.