He pushed open the door. There were bodies lying on the tiled floor, and pools of blood. He stared for a moment longer, trying to make sense of what he was seeing, and then he spun round and rushed back to the dining room.

‘Setyl!’

The scarred man looked up.

‘Get the Houseblades. Get Corporal Yalad. Someone’s murdered the staff. And look – look at us – where’s everyone else? Abyss take me – where is the hostage? Go! The Houseblades! And make sure they’re armed.’

As Setyl rushed out, Venth crossed the chamber and plunged into a side passage, the one leading to the hostage’s quarters. His shock was giving way to dread. Nothing was more sacrosanct than the safety of a hostage of the House. If he found her dead, the Lord would never survive the consequences. Even Mother Dark would be unable to protect him. Things go slack when Ivis isn’t around. The damned fool, wandering off into the wood all night! And now …

He told himself that he knew nothing, since the alternative made him recoil inside. Someone, an assassin, must have found a way into the house. This was an attack upon Dracons – the Lord was away and horror was being visited upon his home. Cowards.

Passing the maids’ cells he paused, and then knocked upon the door of the nearest one. There was no reply. Somewhere else or dead. Venth continued on. He found that he had drawn his knife.

Shouts sounded from the front entrance. The Houseblades were inside. As he drew closer to the hostage’s door, he wondered if it wasn’t already too late. They’ve killed her.

Still five paces from the door, he saw the latch suddenly turn and the door was thrown open. The hostage stood in the threshold. ‘Venth? What has happened? I saw running, in the courtyard—’

‘Mistress, please go back inside your room,’ Venth said.

She noted the knife in his hand and stepped back and he saw fear in her eyes.

Venth shook his head. ‘Assassins, mistress. There has been slaughter in this house. Go back. I will guard this passage until a Houseblade arrives.’

‘Slaughter? Who? My maids?’

‘I don’t know about them, mistress, but I fear the worst. Only Setyl and me arrived in the dining hall – no one else. Not Atran, or Hidast or Hilith.’ He turned at the sound of someone running up the corridor. Heart suddenly pounding hard, he readied himself. He would give his life here, defending her. And he’d hurt the bastard—

But it was Corporal Yalad. The young officer was pale and he had drawn his sword. He pulled up when he saw Venth, and then Sandalath. ‘Good,’ he said with a shaky nod. ‘Both of you, with me—’

‘Corporal,’ said Venth, ‘would it not be better if the hostage remained in her—’