The cellar, whatever it had once stored, was stripped as bare as the rest of the house. In one corner a man lay face down on a pile of blankets, with Suni grasping one twisted arm and kneeling on his back. There was a heap of clothes, a discarded mail coat, and weapons – a battleaxe leaning against one wall. And there was a woman, Nelo saw, cowering in the corner, grasping a blanket to her chest.

Gisco took in the scene at a glance. ‘Good work, Suni.’ He strode across to the man, got a handful of hair and pulled his head back, making the man grunt. Nelo saw the hair was bright red, and that the man was bearded. Gisco dropped the man’s head casually, as if dropping a sack of potatoes. ‘This is the one. Who’s she?’

The woman sat up straighter. ‘Sir. My name is Satilis. My husband owns this shop. Owned – I have not seen him for some time.’

Gisco leaned down and peered at her in the lantern light. ‘She’s older than I thought.’

Suni grinned. ‘Maybe this fellow likes ‘em wrinkly.’

‘Sir – are you acting under the orders of the suffetes? Of the Popular Assembly?’

‘Aren’t we all?’

‘I demand my rights. We have always paid our taxes and tolls, officer. My husband’s father once served on the Tribunal of One Hundred and Four. It was bad enough that my shop, my home, was forced to open its doors to stinking farmers’ families from the country. Now this man has come, he just walked in here, he doesn’t even speak our tongue, but he had a letter demanding asylum, a letter from General Fabius, and, and—’

Suni guffawed. ‘General Fabius? Sure he did.’

Gisco stood straight. ‘Get out of here, madam.’

‘What?’

‘You won’t want to see what’s to come. Get out. Shoo, shoo.’ And he chased her as he would a reluctant dog.

The woman got up and scrambled for the ladder, which was hard to negotiate in her blanket. Both Gisco and Suniatus stared as she climbed, revealing thighs, buttocks, ample hips.

Gisco sighed. ‘That will keep me warm tonight.’

Suni laughed again. ‘Now what, sir? What do we do with this fellow? Haul him in?’

‘No time for that, Suni. He’s an obvious saboteur. Placed here to open the gates and let his brutish comrades into our city, along with their Hatti overlords. Finish him off.’

‘With pleasure. How?’

‘Behead him. Make it neat, would you?’

Suniatus lifted his blade, yanking the man’s head back; the man began to struggle, his teeth grating.

‘Oh, by the left bollock of mighty Teshub, kill the man first. Have some manners, Suniatus.’

‘Sorry, sir.’ Suniatus efficiently slit the man’s throat with a scrape of his blade, held him down while he bled out, and then sawed off the head, grunting and complaining as his blade got stuck in the vertebrae.