‘Righto then,’ said Bartiman with a wheezing chuckle. ‘Just wanted to check. I don’t think Eleanora should go alone, though, eh? No offence,’ he said, gesturing airily to the assembled watchmen. ‘But the Swords of Sigmar watch out for one another. One of us should accompany our young engineer.’

‘It should be you,’ said Aelyn to Romilla.

The priest had seen this coming, and took a deep breath.

‘You know that I would be of great help in the march upon the square,’ she said. ‘My prayers, my oratory – I was trained for the battlefield, Aelyn.’

‘And yet, if Eleanora’s… condition… overcomes her before the work can be completed, this will all be for naught,’ said Aelyn. ‘You alone possess such skills.’

Romilla knew she could have added that the priest had acted as a virtual mother-figure to Eleanora for years, that the two shared a bond the rest of the Swords couldn’t touch. She didn’t need to. They all knew it.

‘Very well,’ said Romilla, and Eleanora favoured her with a wan smile.

‘We’ll detail half of the watchmen in this safehouse to accompany you,’ said Shen. ‘That’ll give you twelve able-bodied protectors, Ms VanGhest. The rest of us will accompany the diversionary attack.’

‘I’ll have Yenstin and O’Mord hang back with the civilians,’ said Marika. ‘I’ll have them wait for a steady count of six hundred then take the survivors out along Cotter’s Rise and down through the Shiftings. It’s the quickest route to the East Postern.’

‘We’ll send out runners at once,’ said Shen. ‘It will take time to disseminate the plan, and we don’t have time to dicker with anyone squeamish. We shall just have to pray to Sigmar that they hold to the plan.’

‘What shall be our signal?’ asked Aelyn.

‘We’ve a few signalling rockets still dry in the first-floor armoury,’ said Marika. ‘I’ll have a team take them a couple of streets over where they won’t draw undue attention to this safehouse, then let them off. The whole city ought to see those things fly.’

With that, the plan was set and the watchmen first class hurried off to issue orders and prepare their soldiery. The Swords of Sigmar were left in the office to gird themselves for one last fight. They were all injured, Romilla thought, all bone tired and numb from their losses.

‘We are still here,’ she said aloud, and her friends looked up from their preparations. ‘We are still alive, still able to do Sigmar’s will, still able to avenge our friends.’

‘In the names of Varlen, Hendrick and Olt then,’ said Aelyn. She didn’t add Borik, Romilla noted. They all wanted to hope their comrade had made it out alive. To name him would have felt like a jinx.