‘Well he didn’t,’ said Hendrick, his knuckles turning white where he gripped his tankard. The metal creaked slightly at the pressure. His eyes were locked on Captain Morthan. ‘We had one chance to make Varlen’s sacrifice mean something. You spat upon it.’

‘The only reason that you delivered your warning at all was because I permitted it,’ Morthan replied, and to Aelyn’s surprise the captain didn’t sound alarmed. She sounded every bit as angry as Hendrick. ‘You’d be sat outside the gates getting rained on if it weren’t for me. Do not hang the blame around my neck for your abject failure. Sigmar’s throne, man, had you even thought about what you were going to say?’ She made a sharp gesture to Eleanora. ‘If she hadn’t recalled the words of the bloody warning and managed to recite them to Selvador you would have landed in the cells! No wonder he dismissed it with the same old saw about Sigmar’s will. Do not make the mistake of believing you were the only one in that room with a lot to lose, Sergeant Saul.’

‘You didn’t lose a brother,’ he growled.

The captain’s eyes hardened. ‘I may yet lose a city,’ she returned.

‘A city that is still in danger because our warning was ignored!’ Hendrick pounded his fists on the table hard enough to spill ale. Aelyn placed a hand on his shoulder and, when he glanced at her, she shook her head, once, sharply. She saw Hendrick become aware that the hubbub of conversation around them had died at his parade-ground shout. Alarmed glances were aimed their way.

He subsided, glowering. Hating himself again, no doubt, she thought.

‘Carry on, good people, carry on,’ said Bartiman, hands raised placatingly and voice as grandfatherly as he could make it. ‘Our friend has had a dram too much, and he’s had a very long day.’

There was some muttering from the folk around them, but the buzz of conversation returned over the next few moments. It did not touch their table, however. The Swords sat and glowered over their drinks. Aelyn listened to the relentless drum of the rain against the windows. The hiss of water hitting cobbles intensified for a moment as another drenched and cursing figure swung the inn’s door open and lunged inside.

Captain Morthan took a deep breath, blew it out slowly. She looked directly at Hendrick.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said, and Aelyn heard her sincerity. ‘It was not my intention to hijack your quest, and had I truly realised its significance to you…’ she paused, shook her head. ‘No. I would have done exactly the same thing. If there was even a chance that you could have woken the regent militant to whatever this threat is, I’d have paraded you all in front of him until Hysh’s light dawned again.’