Kurkas searched her eyes for a clue to her mood. “That a threat, governor?”

“Not a threat, and not a governor. Makrov holds the title now.” She offered a wry, weary smile. “Captain Shaisan Yanda at your service, and his excellency has made it very clear I’m fortunate to be that.”

“Compared to some, certainly.”

She shrugged. “You think I don’t wish there’d been another way?”

“Never been one for wishes, governor. I prefer actions.”

“And what actions bring you to Eskavord?”

Again, that slight edge to her voice. Could he trust it? Better not to. “Just taking a look around. Basking in the glories of victory.”

Her eyes tightened. “Will you do something for me, one captain to another?”

“Long as it’s within hailing distance of common decency.”

“When you see Lord Akadra – either Lord Akadra – tell him I’m sorry. I should have done more.”

For the first time, Kurkas heard a note of genuine regret. “Might be you’re not out of chances.”

“I don’t think so. Don’t you feel it? This will get worse before it gets better.” She shook her head. “Whatever brings you to Eskavord, have a care not to get caught.”

Halvor was hunched over Elda’s kitchen table when Kurkas returned, a steaming mug clasped between white-knuckled hands. Elda sat in the corner, arms folded and her expression that of a woman whose worst suspicions were coming true.

“You’d better have cleaned your boots this time,” she growled.

He lifted a foot to give her clear sight of a filthy and threadbare sock. “Boots are in the hall. So’s the cloak. And I’m fine, thanks for asking.” He hobbled over to the table. “How about you?”

Halvor stared up at him. “Like a scarecrow left out through Wintertide.”

“You look it.”

And she did. Though her eyes lacked the confusion they’d held when Elda had set her to bed, they were dark-rimmed and weary – as if she could fall back into slumber at any moment. And her skin . . . so pale as to be almost grey. Just like every other miserable body lurching its way through Eskavord. At least there was a smile, or rather the ghost of one.

“You’re nothing special yourself.”

He sniffed and pulled out a chair. “And whose fault is that? Did you at least get some sleep?”

Halvor took a pull on her tea. “I think so, for all the good it’s done.”

“At least you’re done mistaking this handsome face for someone else.”

“Elda told me. I’m sorry. I can’t explain it.”

“Nothing to explain.” Kurkas tapped the side of his head. “Age is a terrible thing.”

Eyes closed to slits. “Say that again.”

“Your ears playing up too?” He shrugged away a venomous glare. “You’re sounding more like yourself. I’ll take that.”

She sighed and set the mug down. “I wish I felt it.”