He was a small man, wrinkled, scarred and rendered quite bald by rain-scalding. His eyes were puffy and red as if he’d been punched in both, and his toothless mouth was puckered. Posver wore a mishmash of ragged garb and was possessively cradling a bottle despite the early hour. A wooden sign lay next to him, kept within easy reach as a warrior might keep their weapon close to hand.

Posver looked up and flinched as he saw watch uniforms moving towards him across the square. He clutched his bottle tight to his chest and squinted before recognising her and relaxing. She glanced pointedly at the watchman third class who had been lurking in a side street and keeping an eye on the old doomsayer. The woman saluted and left her post, released to recommence her slow patrol around the square.

‘Enwin Posver, how are you, my old friend?’ asked Helena as she crossed a narrow stone footbridge over the channel.

‘I’m all right, captain, and I hope today finds you in good health,’ said Posver, gumming at the words in an accent so thick it took Helena a moment to decipher them. Posver struggled to his feet and set his bottle down with exaggerated care. Expression solemn, he bowed deeply to her, and as he straightened painfully up again she saw his eyes dart to the other watchmen who accompanied her.

‘Grange, would you all mind terribly giving Mister Posver and myself a few moments to converse?’ asked Helena with a slight warding gesture. ‘We’re old friends, you see, and we’ve much to discuss.’

Grange nodded stiffly and backed off, herding the two watchmen with him. Helena turned back to the old vagrant, smiling at him with genuine warmth.

‘How have you been?’ she asked.

Posver worked his gums and rubbed his palms together, stepping from one bare and soggy foot to the other.

‘All right this morning considering what’s coming, captain,’ he said, blinking furiously at her then glancing down at his bottle. She gestured consent and he snatched it up, taking a grateful swig.

‘And what is coming, Mister Posver?’ asked Helena.

Posver shook his head, blinked some more, shuffled his feet.

‘Come now, Enwin, we’ve had reports that you’ve been getting yourself a bit excitable the last day or so. Have you seen something?’

Posver’s face crumpled, and Helena felt her disquiet deepen at the sight of the honest misery she saw there. The shadow was there and gone in a moment, the old man rubbing his hands over his scalp and blinking again. She decided to try a different approach.

‘Enwin, what is on your sign? May I see?’