‘We’re meant to be bringing the rest of the treasure to the rendezvous at High Crag,’ said Borik. He didn’t look up as he spoke, carried on working an oilcloth over his weapon. ‘We miss that meeting, we don’t get paid, and maybe the Olmori tribe come looking for their ancestral treasures.’

‘The Olmori tribe were cowards enough to send mercenaries to recover those treasures in the first place,’ said Hendrick. ‘They can wait a few more days while we deliver this message.’

Borik shot Hendrick a quick glance from beneath his heavy brows but made no other reply.

‘Look, if Varlen was lucid, if he was still seeing visions… what if this is a warning from Sigmar? What if we ignore a warning from Sigmar and compound failure with faithlessness? All we have to do is to reach the city and make sure that someone in a position of authority hears our warning. Then that’s it, job done. Who knows, if you’re so concerned they may even provide some fiscal reward for our efforts.’

‘We’re mercenaries. Fiscal reward is our only concern,’ the duardin said.

‘We’re a sight more than that,’ said Hendrick hotly. ‘Varlen always made sure we did Sigmar’s work first and thought of profits second.’

‘I’m sorry, I know you don’t want to hear this, but as I said to you last night, Varlen may not have been Varlen anymore,’ said Romilla, rising to her feet and looking around for support. ‘Surely we’re not going to break faith with our employers just because some unnatural being possessed our friend and used his face to tug upon our heartstrings?’

Hendrick felt the disapproval coming off Borik in waves. Eleanora’s tools clicked away with panicked intensity, and he felt frustrated fury build in his chest.

‘Listen,’ continued Romilla in more conciliatory tones. ‘Perhaps we should–’

‘No, we shouldn’t,’ Aelyn said. They all stared at the aelf, Hendrick included. Aelyn was so quiet, so still, that it was possible to forget she was even there until she spoke, but when she did her voice was sharp and clear as cut crystal.

Romilla drew breath to speak again but Aelyn talked over her.

‘Before today, Varlen and Hendrick led the Swords of Sigmar. Now Varlen is gone, Hendrick is our only leader. We are mercenaries, not vagabonds. If our leader gives us an order, we obey it. The matter requires no further debate.’

Romilla blinked, scowled, but subsided. She looked at Hendrick.

‘And do you so order, sergeant?’ she asked.

Hendrick shot a grateful glance at Aelyn but she ignored him, and he felt the rebuke in her eyes. He had to do better, had to be firm not furious, a leader not a bully. He would try, he told himself, for Varlen’s sake. This would all, ultimately, be for Varlen’s sake. Nothing else would make his loss bearable.