‘Well, sir. You conduct a reign of terror over your Houseblades, but you’re fair about it, in that you don’t count favourites. So, even while we all hate you, it’s a disciplined hate, and when you issue orders, we obey. And why wouldn’t we? You’ll be at the forefront of any nasty work, because you’re nastier than all the rest of us, on account of you being angry all the time—’

‘You can shut your mouth now, Threadbare.’

‘Yes sir.’

‘Since you know all that, sergeant, you needn’t bother with all that ghee you’re lathering my way. Yes, I figured it out. Good for me. But now we’re looking at a new problem, aren’t we?’

‘With our lady gone, it’s down to you, sir, to decide whether we warn the monasteries or not.’

Gelas nodded. He shifted again. ‘This snow’s not melting under me at all, dammit.’

‘That’s not snow, sir, it’s bedrock.’

‘Ah, that explains it then. Where was I? Right. Decisions.’

‘Urusander’s Legion is the enemy, sir. And Bahann’s out from under Raal’s wing, with but three hundred soldiers. If we warn Yannis and Yedan, how many warriors can they muster? Five hundred? Six? Are they good fighters?’

‘They’re utter pigs, Threadbare, and no, I’d not want to mess with them.’

‘Just so. The question then is, sir, is there any tactical value to seeing Bahann and his three hundred cut to pieces, while at the same time forcing the monasteries to relinquish their neutrality and side with us? Big losses for Raal, big gains for the highborn and Mother Dark.’

He studied her. ‘You’re saying it’s obvious, aren’t you?’

‘Sir?’

He pointed at the eye-piece in her hands. ‘Tell me again how that works.’

‘There is a mirror and three lenses perfectly fitted—’

‘Shut your mouth, Threadbare.’

‘Yes sir.’

He slithered back from the ridge, rose and brushed snow from his thighs. ‘Back to the keep. We need to send out a rider.’

‘To warn the monasteries, sir?’ She remained lying on her bed of yellow grasses, not even cold though her cheeks glowed, with clear eyes that reminded him how many decades it had been since he’d last caught the regard of anything as young and as beautiful as this woman.

‘I trust you all understand,’ he said to her, ‘that the hate is entirely mutual.’

‘Of course, sir.’

‘But having said that, I’d step into a blade’s path for every damned one of you.’

‘That too, sir, is mutual.’

He grunted. It would have to do.

* * *

After a night of freezing rain, the battlements of Vanut Keep glistened, the ice capturing the morning sunlight in sparks that flared and dripped. But already water had begun flowing down the sheathed stone flanks of the solid walls and squat towers, until it seemed as if the walls were melting.