‘As for you all, you have my eternal gratitude,’ said the regent militant, smiling beatifically at the Swords of Sigmar. ‘I shall mention you in my prayers to the God-King for your efforts, thank you. Now, Captain Morthan will show you to the exit. Go, enjoy the delights of this strong city and I am sure you will soon see that your concerns, while righteous, were ill-founded. And rest assured that I have heard you this night my friends. I shall pray upon the matter at length.’

With that, the regent militant turned and resumed his throne. Hendrick was still trying to work out what to say, some fresh argument to make the old man understand the horror he’d heard in Varlen’s voice, when Morthan ushered him and his companions out of the palace and into the plaza beyond.

And then they were outside, and the rain was falling upon them once again.

The palace guards didn’t even spare them a look.

They’d delivered their warning. Nothing had changed.

‘What now?’ asked Hendrick, feeling as lost as he ever had in his life.

Chapter Four

Chapter Four

DOWNPOUR

Krysthenna the Lantern Bearer stood in the doorway of an old warehouse in Docksflow. Outside, rain fell through the night’s darkness from the deeper black of the clouds. Krysthenna leaned from the doorway and tilted her head back to let the deluge batter her face. The rain was cool and refreshing, and its acidic sting made her skin tingle. She feared no scald-burns. Those were the mark of the impure, those without the moral fortitude to withstand Sigmar’s infinite tests. She knew herself to be pure, shriven, strong.

Movement at the far end of the street caused Krysthenna to duck back into the shadows.

‘Catching raindrops like a foolish child,’ she chastised herself. ‘A Lantern Bearer cannot afford distractions.’ She peered into the dark, praying silently to Sigmar that she would not see the distinctive glare of watch lanterns suddenly sparked. The Shrine of the Last Days’ Warning was not strictly illegal in Draconium, for settlers were free to worship the prescribed gods of Sigmar’s pantheon in whatever way they saw fit. However, the truths that Krysthenna and her flock spoke were unpalatable, and so the city watch had taken every opportunity to shut them down. They had been repeatedly refused permits to preach openly on the streets, and of late the watch had taken to breaking up their prayer meetings wherever they found them.

Some sects might have railed against such actions, might have protested of ill treatment or prejudice. The Shrine just recognised it as another test. Krysthenna felt a moment’s satisfaction that they had proven resourceful enough to overcome it.