Josiri emerged from the armoury, already cursing the sweltering afternoon sun. Only lingering memories of near-misses at Davenwood prevented him from having the layered steel plates and padded jerkin peeled back off. And so he remained, a crab roasting in a shell not his own.

He counted seventy knights, and perhaps fifty hearthguard in a mix of Reveque, Krain and Akadra livery. Scarcely more than a hundred blades, and Ebigail Kiradin had a city.

Viktor remained unyielding as ever, Malachi distracted. An older man stood close by, his fingers tapping idly on a control amulet. He reminded Josiri of Gavamor, now dead at Makrov’s order.

“Now that’s a sight,” said Izack. “A southwealder in full armour. Shouldn’t you be in the shadows, readying a knife?”

Josiri spoke before Viktor could offer rebuke. “Maybe later. It’ll give you time to whip up some support. I’ve never known north fight south without at least ten to one advantage.”

Malachi looked at the flagstones. Viktor’s lip curled in amusement. Izack stared. Josiri grew uncomfortably aware that Izack had his ten to one odds close by, and then more if he chose.

Izack threw back his head and roared with laughter. “Oh, I like him. You’re not hiding any more hereabouts?”

“We’ll have to make do.” Viktor nodded at the old man with the amulet. “Josiri, this is High Proctor Elzar Ilnarov. He’ll assist us with the kraikons.”

Josiri’s ears pricked up at the guarded reverence. “As easy as that?”

Elzar shook his head. “I’m afraid not. I’ve already fallen foul of a krai-kon with a corrupted enchantment. There are bound to be more. Lady Kiradin’s been stealing them for months.”

“Hang about,” said Izack. “Stealing kraikons? Are you telling me she had a bunch sitting around in a warehouse, just waiting for this?”

He bristled. “Not exactly. I had a chance to examine some remains. The alterations are subtle and remain hidden until triggered. I expect Lady Kiradin had a tame proctor set them loose in the city until they were needed. Who’d notice? Who complains about too many kraikons?”

Josiri cast his mind back to Eskavord, the silhouettes of the bronze giants dark against sunshine. “I could have managed with fewer, these past years.”

“So might we all today,” said Viktor. “We’ve no way to know how many are Ebigail’s, and how many aren’t.”

Izack scratched the back of his head. “I just hope you’re right about folk coming to their senses, otherwise it’s going to get very lonely up there.” He threw a salute at the assembled soldiers. “All right, lads and lasses. Time to be heroes.”

The captain at their head, the soldiery filed into the street.

“Go,” said Malachi. “Try not to do anything foolish.”

Josiri snorted. “Too late. You’re not coming?”

“I’ll only get in the way. My weapons are words, not swords. Remember?”