‘We suspected it’d get complicated,’ Quick Ben sighed. ‘We know next to nothing of your company. Or, rather, knew next to little. With this contact I am no longer so ignorant.’ The man’s eyes swung to Karnadas. ‘Destriant. In Fener’s Reve that means Arch-Priest, doesn’t it? But only in the martial arena – the temple of hallowed ground that is the field of battle. Does Fener’s representative in the Mask Council acknowledge that you outrank him or her, as a tiger does a cat?’

Karnadas grimaced. ‘He does not know my true title, sir. There are reasons for that. I am impressed by your knowledge of Fener’s priesthood. No, more than impressed. I am stunned.’

The man seemed to flinch. ‘Well, yes. Thank you.’ He turned to study Brukhalian. ‘You’re the god’s Mortal Sword.’ He paused then, and it was as if the full significance of that title only now struck home, for his eyes slowly widened. ‘Uh, all right. I think the warlord would endorse my decision to deliver his message to you. In fact, I have no doubt at all. Good.’ He drew a breath, then resumed. ‘Caladan Brood leads an army to the relief of Capustan. The siege – as I’m sure you well understand – is not only inevitable, it is imminent. Now, our challenge is getting there in time—’

‘Sir,’ Brukhalian interrupted, frowning, ‘how large is Caladan Brood’s army? Understand, we will be facing perhaps sixty thousand Pannions – veterans one and all. Does he grasp the maelstrom he so generously wishes to enter on our behalf ?’

‘Well, we don’t have the numbers to match. But we will be’ – Quick Ben grinned – ‘bringing a few surprises with us. Now, Destriant – we need to reconvene. I need to bring the warlord and his officers in on this. Can I suggest we resume this conversation in a bell’s time?’

‘Perhaps it would be best to postpone it until the dead of night, sir,’ Brukhalian said. ‘My daylight hours are rather full – and public. As are Prince Jelarkan’s.’

Quick Ben nodded. ‘Two bells before next dawn, then.’ He glanced around all of a sudden. ‘I’ll need a bigger tent ...’

A moment later he faded from view. The sphere contracted once more, then slowly vanished at a wave from Karnadas. The Destriant turned to Brukhalian. ‘This was unexpected.’

The Mortal Sword grunted. ‘We must be certain to condition the prince, sir. Perhaps this warlord’s army can harry the besieging forces slightly, but it will probably achieve little else. We must keep Jelarkan’s vision realistic ... assuming we tell him.’

We’ll not win this war. Aye. No false hopes here.

Brukhalian asked, ‘What think you of this Quick Ben?’

‘A man of many veils, sir. An ex-priest of Fener, perhaps. His knowledge was too precise.’

‘Many souls, within one, you said.’