Thoughts of his father struck him then, like blows to the body that left him sickened. He urged Kyril into a fast canter, fighting to stifle a moan.

The night, so vast around him, seemed to mock him with its indifference. The world held no regard for his feelings, his fears; the mad cavort of all the things filling his head. It cared nothing for the ache in his left hand and how it felt as if it still grasped that throat – the throat with its hard muscles that slowly surrendered to the ever-tightening pressure of his grip, and the way the windpipe finally crumpled into something soft and ringed that moved too easily, too loosely. All these sensations roiled in his fingers, in the flattened throb of his palm, and though he dared not look down, he knew he would see murder’s own stain – a stain invisible to everyone else but unmistakable to his own eyes.

Hunched over, he rode on. And there came then a bleak thought, repeating in his mind amidst the thumping drums of horse hoofs.

The darkness is not enough.

* * *

Beneath bright morning light, Serap rode into Neret Sorr from the south track. Once on the high street, she swung her horse left and made for the keep road. But the way ahead was blocked by a flat-bed wagon, the ox rigged to it, and a small crowd. Three of the town’s constabulary were there, and Serap saw two young men approach from a lane opposite, carrying a body between them on a canvas tarp. They clutched the corners but kept losing their grip. Though other men walked with them none made a move to help.

Reining in, Serap looked to the nearest constable and saw that the man was studying her. After a moment he stepped forward.

‘Lieutenant Serap.’

She studied him. ‘Ex-Legion, yes? Ninth Company.’

‘Sergeant Yeld, sir. I was on Sharenas’s staff.’

‘What has happened here?’

‘Murder last night, sir. A local got strangled.’

‘If you’ve a mind to hunt down the killer,’ she said, ‘I have some experience at that. Has he run or he is holed up somewhere?’

All at once the sergeant looked uncomfortable. ‘Not sure, sir. No witnesses.’

‘Is there a seer in town?’

‘Old Stillhap up at the keep, sir. We haven’t sent for him yet.’

Serap dismounted. Her back was sore. She’d ridden hard from Kharkanas, bearing the latest news along with Hunn Raal’s usual exhortations to ensure that she spoke directly with Lord Urusander. Although the news she had been instructed to give him made her uneasy, since much of it was close to a lie, she was now committed. Still, a minor delay here in town might give her time to compose her thoughts, quell her misgivings, before seeing Urusander. ‘I will examine the body,’ she said, walking over to where the two men had finally reached the wagon with their burden.