The two regarded each other for a brief span, then Bauchelain stroked his beard and turned away. ‘The Tenescowri are coming, did you know? Among them, Children of the Dead Seed. Extraordinary, these children. A dying man’s seed ... Hmm. It’s said that the eldest among them now commands the entire peasant horde. I look forward to meeting him.’

‘Master? Uh, how, I mean—’

Bauchelain smiled. ‘Korbal is most eager to conduct a thorough examination of this child named Anaster. What flavour is his biology? Even I wonder at this.’

The fallen Urdomen lurched, twitched as one, hands clawing towards dropped weapons, helmed heads lifting.

Buke stared in horror.

‘Ah, you now have guards to command, Buke. I suggest you have them position themselves at the entrance. And perhaps one to each of the four corner towers. Tireless defenders, the best kind, yes?’

Emancipor Reese, clutching his mangy cat tight against his chest, stumbled out from the main house.

Bauchelain and Buke watched as the old man rushed towards one of the now standing Urdomen. Reese came up to the hulking warrior, reached out and tugged frantically at the undead’s chain collar and the jerkin beneath it. The old man’s hand reached down beneath both layers, down, down.

Emancipor started gibbering. He pulled his hand clear, staggered back. ‘But – but—’ His lined, pebbled face swung to Bauchelain. ‘That . . . that man, Korbal – he has – he said – I saw! He has their hearts! He’s sewn them together, a bloody, throbbing mass on the kitchen table! But—’ He spun and thumped the Urdomen on the chest. ‘No wound!’

Bauchelain raised one thin eyebrow. ‘Ah, well, with you and friend Buke here interfering with Korbal Broach’s normal nightly activities, my colleague was forced to modify his habits, his modus operandi, if you will. Now, you see, my friends, he has no need to leave his room in order to satisfy his needs of acquisition. None the less, it should be said, please desist in your misguided efforts.’ The necromancer’s flat grey eyes fixed on Buke. ‘And as for the priest Keruli’s peculiar sorcery now residing within you, unveil it not, dear servant. We dislike company when in our Soletaken forms.’

Buke’s legs came close to giving out beneath him.

‘Emancipor,’ Bauchelain murmured, ‘do lend your shoulder to our guard.’

The old man stepped close. His eyes were so wide that Buke could see white all around them. Sweat beaded his wrinkled face. ‘I told you it was madness!’ he hissed. ‘What did Keruli do to you? Damn you, Buke—’

‘Shut up, Mancy,’ Buke growled. ‘You knew they were Soletaken. Yet you said nothing – but Keruli knew as well.’

Bauchelain strode towards the main house, humming under his breath.

Buke twisted and gripped Emancipor’s tunic. ‘I can follow them now! Keruli’s gift. I can follow those two anywhere!’

‘They’ll kill you. They’ll swat you down, Buke. You Hood-damned idiot—’