The hostage nodded. She rode well, yet frailty surrounded her, as it had done since her collapse.

Ivis had convinced her to remove all but the most necessary layers of clothing, and she was revealed as both shapely and thinner than he had at first thought. By his eye he might judge that she’d known childbirth, in the weight of her breasts and in her manner of moving, and of course such things were known to occur, with the illegitimate children quickly whisked away, given up or sent to be raised in ignorance by distant, remote family members. In truth, however, it was none of his business. She was now a hostage in the House of Dracons, twice-used by the desperate matriarch of House Drukorlas, and Ivis was determined to see her treated well.

‘Your rooms are awaiting you,’ he said as they rode towards the gate. ‘If they are not to your liking, be sure to inform me at once and we will see it put aright.’

‘Thank you, captain. That is most kind. It is a most imposing house, rising so above the walls.’

‘The Lord brought wealth with him when he took up residence.’

‘Whence did he come?’

Ivis shook his head. ‘Even we who serve in his household are not certain of that. Chosen as heir by Lady Dracons, a cousin she said. In any case,’ he added, ‘he served well in the wars – no one can deny that. Well enough to earn the regard of Mother Dark.’

‘A most loving regard, I have heard.’

‘As to that I cannot say, milady. But it suits us well to think so, does it not?’

She studied him briefly, as if uncertain as to his meaning, and then smiled.

Ahead, the gates had been opened and they rode up the track and then into the shadow beneath the heavy lintel stone. Ivis saw Sandalath frowning up at the unknown words carved into the stone, but she ventured no query, and then they were through, riding into the courtyard, where servants and grooms clustered in waiting and voices rose in greeting from a half-dozen Houseblades arrayed in a line. Ivis frowned at the presentation – in his absence, discipline had slackened and he reminded himself to plug the ears of this sorry lot once the hostage was inside.

Dismounting, he passed over the reins to a groom and moved up to help Sandalath down. It seemed her frailty had come upon her again, sudden as a chill, and the relaxed ease she had revealed on occasion during the long ride vanished. Once she was on her feet, servants drew up to fuss over her.

‘Milady,’ said Ivis. ‘The head of the house-servants now serves you in the absence of Lord Draconus. Hilith, present yourself.’

The elderly woman so named had been standing back, close to the stone steps fronting the house, and now she stepped forward with a stiff bow and said, ‘Hostage, we welcome you to this house. I see the journey has wearied you. A bath is ready.’