The captain made ready to don his helmet, but the Adjunct shook her head. 'Lieutenant Paran will suffice, Captain. I suggest you take personal command of your guard in the meantime. The dead must be removed as quickly as possible. All evidence of the massacre is to be erased.'

'Understood, Adjunct,' the captain said, hoping he'd kept the relief out of his voice.

Lorn turned to the young noble. 'Well, Lieutenant?'

He nodded and clucked his horse into motion.

It was when the birds scattered from their path that the Adjunct found herself envying the captain. Before her the roused carrion-eaters exposed a carpet of armour, broken bones and meat. The air was hot, turgid and cloying. She saw soldiers, still helmed, their heads crushed by what must have been huge, terribly powerful jaws. She saw torn mail, crumpled shields, and limbs that had been ripped from bodies. Lorn managed only a few moments of careful examination of the scene around them before she fixed her gaze on the promontory ahead, unable to encompass the magnitude of the slaughter. Her stallion, bred of the finest lines of Seven Cities stock, a warhorse trained in the blood for generations, had lost its proud, unyielding strut, and now picked its way carefully along the road.

Lorn realized she needed a distraction, and sought it in conversation. 'Lieutenant, have you received your commission yet?'

'No, Adjunct. I expect to be stationed in the capital.'

She raised an eyebrow. 'Indeed. And how will you manage that?'

Paran squinted ahead, a tight smile on his lips. 'It will be arranged.'

'I see.' Lorn fell silent. 'The nobles have refrained from seeking military commissions, kept their heads low for a long time, haven't they?'

'Since the first days of the Empire. The Emperor held no love for us. Whereas Empress Laseen's concerns seem to lie elsewhere.'

Lorn eyed the young man. 'I see you like taking risks, Lieutenant,' she said. 'Unless your presumption extends to goading the Adjunct to the Empress. Are you that confident of your blood's invincibility?'

'Since when is speaking the truth presumptuous?'

'You are young, aren't you?'

This seemed to sting Paran. A flush rose in his smooth-shaven cheeks. 'Adjunct, for the past seven hours I have been knee-deep in torn flesh and spilled blood. I've been fighting crows and gulls for bodies – do you know what these birds are doing here? Precisely? They're tearing off strips of meat and fighting over them; they're getting fat on eyeballs and tongues, livers and hearts. In their frantic greed they fling the meat around ...' He paused, visibly regaining control over himself as he straightened in his saddle. 'I'm not young any more, Adjunct. As for presumption, I honestly couldn't care less. Truth can't be danced around, not out here, not now, not ever again.'

They reached the far slope. Off to the left a narrow track led down towards the sea. Paran gestured to it, then angled his horse forward.

Lorn followed, her thoughtful expression holding on the lieutenant's broad back, before she turned her attention to the route they took. The path was narrow, skirting the promontory's bluff. Off to the left the trail's edge dropped away to rocks sixty feet below. The tide was out, the waves breaking on a reef a few hundred yards offshore. Pools filled the black bedrock's cracks and basins, dully reflecting an overcast sky.