‘I would rather you didn’t, milady,’ Rancept replied, collecting his quilted shirt and working his way into it, his breaths harsh and loud.

‘They will use sorcery.’

‘I expect so, yes.’

‘Your armour won’t help any of you against that, will it?’

‘Probably not.’

‘You’re going to die.’

‘I will do my best to avoid that, milady. Is it not time for your lessons? Go and lighten Skild’s mood for a change.’

She set her goblet down on a ledge. ‘Here, that needs tying up the back.’

‘Summon a maid.’

‘No, I’m here and I’ll do it.’ He crouched down again and she moved up behind his broad, misshapen back. She tugged at the drawstrings, then released them suddenly and flung herself against him, arms wrapping tight. ‘Don’t go,’ she pleaded, eyes filling with tears.

He touched one of her hands, the gesture tentative. ‘Milady – Sukul, all will be well. I promise this.’

‘You can’t!’

‘I will return.’

‘You don’t know that – I’m not a child! The Houseblades cannot stand long against Urusander’s Legion!’

‘We have the Hust—’

‘No one has the Hust!’

‘Milady. Something you’ve not considered. Something, it seems, that no one has considered.’

‘What?’

‘The Hust blades. The Hust armour. Against sorcery, what answer will they give?’

He now slowly, tenderly, prised loose her grip around his neck, and then straightened and swung round to face her. His blunt hands settled on her shoulders.

Through tears, she looked up at him. ‘What – what do you mean?’

‘I know only a little of Hust iron, milady, but what I do know is the anger within those swords, and now, perhaps, that armour. It is my belief that the Tiste have possessed sorcery for some time now, much longer than most would believe. There is something elemental in those weapons, in that iron.’

She stepped back, slipping free of his hands and shaking her head. ‘Their rightful owners are all dead, Rancept. Now criminals carry them!’

‘Indeed, and what will come of that?’

‘Your faith is misplaced.’

He shrugged. ‘Milady, I served my own time in the mining pits – a criminal, as you say.’

What?

His smile was a terrible thing to witness. ‘Think you this bent frame was the one I was born with? I was a lead rock-biter. Five years in the tunnels.’

‘What did you do?’

‘I was a thief.’

‘Does Lady Hish Tulla know this?’

‘Of course.’

‘Yet… she made you castellan!’

‘Not at first,’ he said. ‘I needed to earn her trust, of course. Well, her mother’s trust, come to that. It was all long ago.’

‘I don’t want you to go.’

He nodded. ‘I know.’

‘I want to say how much I hate you right now.’

‘Aye.’

‘But it’s the opposite of hate.’

‘I suppose it is, milady.’

‘Don’t get killed.’