No alarm was raised as Esk and her soldiers set out across the compound. Somewhere on the track west of the monastery, her commander would be leading the remaining troops. Should the warrior monks sequestered in the barracks awaken in time to force their way past the barricaded doors, Esk’s few squads would have a fight on their hands, but so long as they could hold the main gate until Bahann’s advance squads arrived, all would be well.

The best outcome, of course, would be Hallyd Bahann arriving to the chorus of screams from the burning barracks.

In the meantime, she had Higher Grace Sheccanto to hunt down. The woman was rumoured to be ill, bedridden. With Rathadas and Billat behind her, Esk opened the main building’s door and edged inside. Heat gusted round her, scented with the evening meal. Wicks had been turned down in the few lanterns left lit, and the three soldiers padded quietly into the main hall.

Near the hearth was a pair of high-backed, padded chairs, and a figure was seated in one of them, his head tilted to one side, his eyes closed. Muffled beneath furs that someone had settled over him, only his head and his right hand were visible, the wrinkled skin grey-hued and slack in sleep.

Esk approached him, drawing her sword.

She drove the blade deep into the man’s neck, stepping up in the same instant to close her hand over his mouth. She watched his eyes open as the blade slid its way through his neck, and as the point erupted from the other side it made a sluice for a welter of blood. As he died, the man met the lieutenant’s gaze, but without comprehension. His last breath eased out from his nostrils, painting Esk’s left hand in red. Now, the eyes looked at nothing.

Pulling her sword free, she stepped back, looked round, and then whispered, ‘A high room, somewhere the heat rises. Central, away from any outer walls. Billat, take the lead on the stairs.’ But as she moved away, Rathadas reached out to stay her. He had drawn close to examine the dead man in the chair, and now with his other hand he held up the arm that had been hidden beneath the furs.

‘Lieutenant!’ he hissed.

Even as he spoke, she saw the signet ring, and then the faded swirl of tattoos spiralling up the thin, pallid wrist.

‘You just murdered Skelenal!’

Esk scowled. ‘What’s he doing here? Well, saves us a march down to Yedan monastery, doesn’t it?’

‘Royal blood—’

‘Be quiet, damn you. Do you actually think Hallyd Bahann was going to let them live?’

Rathadas stepped back.