Ahead, she saw that Thackeray had reached the roof below the guild hall and was yelling up at an arched window full of dark, leaded glass a dozen feet above him. She was alarmed to see that the watchman looked angry and frantic as he shouted.

‘I might be able to make that leap,’ said Aelyn. ‘But there’s no way any of you can, and I won’t leave you.’

‘Much… appreciated,’ grunted Romilla, who was leaning ever more heavily on Aelyn and who had gone alarmingly pale. Her side was blood-slick, and her hammer hung from her hand ready to drop.

‘Looks like Borik might have had the right of it after all,’ said Aelyn as they came up on Thackeray’s position. His surviving watchman had already dropped to one knee on the wooden platform he stood on and was sighting along her pistol at the tide of greenskins flowing closer with every heartbeat.

‘Piss on Borik,’ spat Romilla.

‘You don’t mean that,’ said Aelyn.

‘I don’t, but his guns would be useful right now, wouldn’t they?’ replied the priest with a wan smile.

Aelyn could hear Thackeray now, even over the demented chorus of the pursuing grots.

‘Damnation, I know you’re in there! We have Captain Morthan’s seal! I order you in her name to open that window and lower the bridge!’

Aelyn skidded to a halt and lowered Romilla down next to the crouching watchman. She turned, reaching for an arrow to nock to her bowstring.

‘What’s your name?’ she asked as she did so.

‘Polenna,’ replied the watchman, whose hand and pistol were shaking slightly.

‘If we die here, know it was an honour to fight for your city,’ said Aelyn. Polenna nodded to her but didn’t take her eyes from the approaching greenskins. The creatures poured along the roofboards and made them shudder, their red eyes and bared fangs glinting in the moonlight.

‘In the name of Captain Helena Morthan and the regent militant of Draconium, I order you to open the window and lower the damned bridge!’ roared Thackeray, and at last the leaded glass window cracked open.

‘Show us the seal,’ came a querulous voice from within. Aelyn drew back her bowstring and loosed an arrow, slaying a grot who was about to take a shot of his own. The greenskin tumbled and put his half-drawn arrow straight through the cheek of the grot next to him, who howled and fell in a spray of blood. More grotesque figures trampled both corpses as they flowed closer.

‘Just lower the cheffing bridge!’ cried Thackeray, almost shrieking with frustration.

‘The seal,’ came the obstinate reply. ‘You could be anyone. You could be bandits trying to gain entry.’