“Don’t humiliate her, Kasamor,” muttered Malachi. “It’ll only make matters worse.”

Aske spat. “You dare insult my family?”

Swords clashed, the blades locking. Aske twisted away. She struck again, trading high blows for a flurry of shallow cuts at Kasamor’s waist. He parried them all, then thrust at Aske’s belly. She stumbled back, breathing hard.

“You’ll have to do better than that,” mocked Kasamor. “Why, I crossed blades with Kai Saran himself less than a month ago.”

Aske feinted left, then thrust right. Kasamor ignored the former and sidestepped the latter.

“All that strength,” he continued, “and he couldn’t land a blow. Sent him back to the border with his tail between his legs.”

“Is that true?” Malachi asked Rosa, his attention still on the duel.

She snorted. “Doubt it. The Hadari are too busy worrying over their dying emperor to make trouble. I’ll bet Kasamor never left his tent the whole time he was out there, much less crossed swords with the emperor’s son.”

The blades clashed again. Kasamor, no longer content to defend, forced Aske into a series of unsteady parries. Even to Malachi’s inexperienced eye, there was a jarring difference to the two techniques. Kasamor’s arcs wove beautiful flashes of moonlight in the gloomy alley. Aske’s responses were jerky and uneven.

“This isn’t right,” Rosa muttered.

“He’s better than her, that’s all.” Malachi shrugged. “He’s better than most people.”

“No,” she said. “This is different. Mind and body are fighting one another.”

That was the trouble with Rosa. Sometimes she needed decoding. “She’s not trying to win?”

“Or maybe she’s stalling.” The corner of Rosa’s lip twitched. “Or maybe it’s something else.”

Malachi looked again, but if there was something deeper, he lacked the eye for it. But the expectation radiating from Aske’s companions struck him as misplaced. Aske had no hope of winning. The only question was how far she’d push before capitulation. Unless . . .

“The others,” he murmured. “They’re waiting for something. This is a distraction.”

Rosa frowned. “Find a patrol. I’ll keep an eye on things.”

Malachi opened his mouth to protest, but closed it again as he realised the sense of her suggestion. He’d be no use in a fight anyway.

Four shadows crowded the end of the alleyway, blotting out the weir behind and blocking hope of retreat.

“Too late,” Malachi breathed.

Rosa pushed off the wall. Her fingers drummed on the hilt of her sword. “Get behind me.” She raised her voice. “This is a private matter.”

The shadows ignored her. Strides lengthened, bringing crimson and black surcoats closer, the leader outpacing his companions.

“Stand down,” he bellowed, drawing his sword. “No need for you to die as well.”

Rosa shook her head sadly. “Oh my lad, you’ve no idea how much trouble you’re in.”

“Suit yourself.”