Urusander strode past her and stood before Kagamandra Tulas, who stared at Urusander as if he had come face to face with a ghost, a singular apparition bearing with it a thousand losses exhumed, shaken clean, proffered like trophies. His back pushed harder against the wall when Urusander raised a hand, as if to touch him. A moment later the hand fell back.

‘Old friend,’ said Urusander. ‘I beg you, ride to them. Tell them that I was not behind this. Tell them that I will hunt down these murderers. Tell them the Legion is at their disposal.’

But Kagamandra shook his head. ‘I will not, sir. I go to find my betrothed. I will take her from Kurald Galain. As far away as we can ride. If need be, I will bind her with ropes, a gag about her mouth, a sack for a hood. Sir, leave me alone.’

There were tears on Urusander’s cheeks. He stepped back, his gaze dropping. ‘Forgive me,’ he whispered.

‘I will go,’ said Sharenas.

The High Priestess was approaching, and behind her in the corridor walked Serap, Yeld, and Haradegar. With their pallid visages, they made an uncanny procession. Behind them all, white light spilled and roiled like smoke, drawing closer.

‘I will go,’ Sharenas said a second time, pushing herself forward. She reached out and grasped Kagamandra’s sleeve, pulling him with her as she set out for the front door.

‘Yes,’ said Urusander behind them, ‘best to flee, my friends. I cannot stop her.’

Sharenas cursed under her breath. In this light, even justice will burn.

* * *

Dead?

Ilgast Rend sat behind the desk, frozen, like a man nailed to his chair. He stared across at the dishevelled messenger with the red-rimmed eyes. Panicked thoughts flitted through him. Send a rider to Commander Calat Hustain. Recall him. The Vitr will have to wait. We now have war.

But I cannot wait. The soldier in me cries out. Urusander is still weak. His companies are scattered across the realm. He hides in Neret Sorr and deems it a distant island in rough seas. I have the Wardens in readiness, and here I am like a hound-master holding a thousand leashes. I swore to do nothing, but that vow – foolish old man! That vow was made in a time of peace.

Highborn blood had been spilled. Innocents had been slaughtered.

Urusander, you pushed too far. But I see you in your keep, enthroned, and all the crows in your company chatter and caw until you are deafened, and the flapping wings blind you and the rush of air is sweet blessing against your face, and you think this the measure of the world.

Will we await your next move?

I think not. He struggled to control his breathing, and cleared his throat, twice, before speaking to the messenger. ‘I trust Lord Anomander has assembled his Houseblades. I trust the other Greater Houses are stirred to arms.’