'We will fight the Gurkish here,' he said.

'Merely a suggestion,' muttered Hoff, 'merely prudence.'

Bayaz spoke over him. 'How do the defences of the city stand?'

'We have, in essence, three concentric lines of defence. The Agriont itself is, of course, our last bastion.'

'It will not come to that, though, eh?' chuckled Hoff, with far from total conviction.

Varuz decided not to answer. 'Arnault's Wall is beyond it, enclosing the oldest and most crucial parts of the city—the Agriont, the Middleway, the main docks and the Four Corners among them. Casamir's Wall is our outermost line of defence—weaker, lower, and a great deal longer than Arnault's. Smaller walls run between these two, like the spokes of a wheel, dividing the outer ring of the city into five boroughs, each of which can be sealed off, should it be captured by the enemy. There are some built-up areas beyond Casamir's Wall, but those must be immediately abandoned.'

Bayaz planted his elbows on the edge of the table, his meaty fists clasped together. 'Given the number and quality of our troops, we would be best served by evacuating the outer quarters of the city and concentrating our efforts around the much shorter and stronger length of Arnault's wall. We can continue to fight a rear-guard action in the outer boroughs, where our superior knowledge of the streets and buildings stands in our favour—'

'No,' said Jezal.

Bayaz fixed him with a brooding stare. 'Your Majesty?'

But Jezal refused to be overawed. It had been becoming clear for some time that if he allowed the Magus to rule him on every issue then he would never escape from under his boot. He might have seen Bayaz make a man explode with a thought, but he was hardly likely to do it to the King of the Union before his own Closed Council. Not with the Gurkish breathing down all their necks.

'I do not intend to give up the greater part of my capital to the Union's oldest enemy without giving battle. We will defend Casamir's Wall, and fight for every stride of ground.'

Varuz glanced across at Hoff, and the Chamberlain raised his eyebrows by the tiniest fraction. 'Er… of course, your Majesty. Every stride.' There was an uncomfortable silence, the displeasure of the First of the Magi hanging over the group as heavily as the storm clouds hung over the city.

'Does my Inquisition have anything to contribute?' croaked Jezal, doing his best to mount a diversion.

Sult's eyes darted coldly up to his. 'Of course, your Majesty. The Gurkish love of intrigue is well known. We have no doubt that there are already spies within the walls of Adua. Perhaps within the Agriont itself. All citizens of Kantic origin are now being interned. My Inquisitors are working day and night in the House of Questions. Several spies have already confessed.'

Marovia snorted. 'So we are expected to suppose that the Gurkish love of intrigue does not extend to the hiring of white-skinned agents?'