‘Speak for yourself,’ Bartiman had replied with a sniff, while Olt had just smiled a wolf’s humourless smile.

The streets were thronging as their carriage pulled up and the Swords clambered on board. City folk drank and cheered, offering raucous praise to the skies above. The crowds had thickened throughout the day, at least in the more affluent parts of the city, and from what Hendrick had seen most of the population of High Drake, Gallowhill and Docksflow had taken to the streets.

‘I wonder what the poorer folk are doing?’ said Romilla as their carriage-driver shouted imprecations and herded jubilant drunkards from his path. ‘I doubt they have the means for such celebration.’

‘They remain in their homes, watchful and cautious,’ said Aelyn. ‘At least, those with homes left to hide in.’

‘It’s like prey beasts in the wild,’ said Olt darkly. ‘The rich, they can afford to take risks, and believe it when they’re told everything is okay. Pampered cattle. But the poor, they’ve got to watch for ­danger all the time. If the poor are still hiding, I’m inclined to believe Hendrick and Aelyn that something isn’t right.’

‘I moved all of the explosives and the firearms and the other inventions that I’ve been working on back to the inn earlier,’ said Eleanora. ‘If anything happens, we’ll be able to go and get them and use them to protect ourselves.’

‘Sigmar’s hammer, I hope you didn’t tell the innkeeper,’ said Hendrick.

‘They’re all perfectly safe unless they’re activated,’ said Eleanora, looking suddenly alarmed. ‘Do you think he would be angry if he knew they were in my room?’

‘I can’t imagine why anyone would be unhappy to find an arsenal of bespoke ordnance tucked under a bed in their establishment,’ said Bartiman with a chuckle.

‘Oh, all right,’ said Eleanora, looking uncertain. She counted quickly off on her fingers, then went back to looking out the window.

No one else spoke as their carriage ploughed through the crowds around the Holyheart Wall like a floe-breaker traversing icy waters. The claws of the team-beasts, the gnarlkyds, rang on the cobbles as they passed through the inner wall and into Draconium’s ruling district.

Beyond the gate, the crowds thinned. Those folk who promenaded the streets between the private manses, the temples and the buildings of office were well-to-do merchants, minor nobles and prominent holymen. They travelled with their own retinues and celebrated in an altogether more refined fashion than the raucous mobs who could still be heard beyond the walls.