Now he nodded. ‘Well, that’s a start. You can discuss precise quantities with my clerk later.’ He leaned forward. ‘But the world is full of gold and silver, madam. What else can you offer me? Something special. Something unique.’ And, even though his wife sat right beside him, he allowed his gaze to wander over her body.

He was treating her like a whore. She was an Annid of Northland, and this Carthaginian animal was treating her like a whore. She would not allow her humiliation to show. She would not.

‘Knowledge, then,’ she said now.

‘Knowledge?’

‘It is our knowledge above all that has enabled Northland to prosper across the centuries, since the days of Pythagoras, and for millennia even before that. I could put this at your disposal – endow a library perhaps, to the greater glory of Carthage. A library of world renown in your own distinguished name . . .’

‘A bank of dusty old scrolls? I don’t think so. I’ll tell you what I want. I’ll tell you what you can bring to me, what will make it worth my while hauling your skinny backside to Carthage. You and your equally worthless children.’

She had never before been spoken to this way. ‘Tell me.’

‘The bones of the Virgin.’

‘Who?’

‘The Mother of the Hatti god-man. What’s His name? Jesus, that’s it.’

She frowned. ‘Why would you want that? Carthage does not follow Jesus.’

‘But our enemies do. The Hatti. And if I have what they want, that gives me power over them. Do you see? Just as now I have power over you.’

She shook her head. ‘The reliquary of the Virgin – I have no access. And the bones aren’t mine to give.’

‘Find a way. Bring me the relics. Or, and you know it as well as I do, by this time next year your own bones will be lying in that Wall. Probably having been gnawed by your own starving children.’

Anterastilis laughed prettily, as if he had made a polite witticism.

Rina took a breath, and looked from one to the other. ‘We have an arrangement, then.’

‘Not quite. One more thing.’ Again he leaned closer, and she could smell fish sauce on his breath. ‘You aren’t the only craven Northlander trying to escape. You’re not the only one selling off the treasures of millennia, in a desperate attempt to save her children from the ice.’

She had no idea if that was true. But if she was keeping such a secret, why not others?

‘This is the end of Northland’s long and manipulative history – the end of your smugness and arrogance. And it ends like this. You have come here to beg, for all you deny it. I want to hear you say it.’

She hesitated for one heartbeat, composing herself, ensuring her voice would be strong. ‘Then I beg. I beg you to save me and my children, Barmocar.’