Roxana frowned as she walked along the vessel’s belly, dodging around the supports and examining the work. ‘I need to speak with the overseer,’ she said. ‘No more forays for a time. It looks like I’m needed here.’ She glanced back at him. ‘Dion . . . If you want to, you can help here for a time. No extra pay, though.’ She smiled.

‘I’d like that.’

‘Come back tomorrow. You deserve a rest.’

Dion nodded. ‘I’ll see you then.’

She grinned. ‘Aren’t you forgetting something?’ He frowned. Roxana’s smile broadened. ‘Your bonus. Go visit the paymaster. Ask at the mess, they’ll tell you how to find him.’

Dion was surprised to find Anoush waiting for him outside the fenced-off area, hopping from foot to foot. The boy’s round face broke into a beaming smile as he saw him emerge.

‘You killed one? I saw you come in. You got a bonus, yes?’

‘I did.’ Dion smiled.

Anoush followed him as he entered the city. ‘Anything you need, master? Anything I can do for you, anything at all? You need a woman? You need new clothes?’

Dion tried to discourage him, but the orphan continued to follow as he skirted the bazaar and climbed to the upper city, entering the wealthy quarter around the palace. He climbed the main boulevard that would take him to the guesthouse, a wide street with steps at regular intervals. Well-dressed Ileans in flowing robes passed him on both sides while the occasional signboard above an entrance marked jewelers and dressmakers.

Dion absently scanned the street ahead. Two sun priests chatted as they walked in the direction of the palace. An old merchant argued in front of his shop with a scowling noble. Further still, a huge man – one of the biggest men Dion had ever seen – walked alongside a dark-haired woman in Salesian clothing with a blue shawl on her shoulders. Despite her fine clothing, she carried a rough hemp sack.

‘Anoush, I—’ Dion was in the process of telling the boy that after he paid Algar, there wouldn’t be much money left in his purse.

But when Dion saw the distant woman he stopped in his tracks. He then began to hurry.

‘What is it, master?’

Quickening his steps, Dion almost broke into a run as Anoush scurried to keep up with him. He passed the people arguing and weaved around the two priests. The street forked and the woman and her escort took the right fork toward the palace.

As they turned, the big man looked directly at Dion, who shielded his eyes, pretending to be searching for someone. The tall man’s eyes dismissed him and the pair continued.

The young woman’s face was in profile for the briefest instant. Dion saw pale skin and an upturned nose. He took note of the flowing dark hair to her waist and her slim figure.