'No. I came in the spring for the arrest of two traitors.'

'Yes, of course. I remember now. And how are things in Stone?'

'Things?'

Persis could feel sweat trickling down his back. 'It is a long time – almost two years – since I was last in the Great City. I was wondering . . .' What was I wondering? he thought, his mind close to panic. How many innocent people have you dragged from their beds to be burned at the stake? What new levels of horror and cruelty have you managed to achieve?

'You were wondering?' prompted the priest.

'One so misses the city,' said Persis, recovering his composure, 'the theatres and dining houses, the parties and gatherings. Time moves on, and one wonders if everything is as it was in the golden rooms of memory. I always like to hear news from Stone. It lessens the sadness at being so far from home.'

'The city remains beautiful,' said the priest, 'but the cancer of heresy is everywhere, and must be hunted down and cut out.'

'Indeed so,' agreed Persis.

'How many of the Tree Cult thrive in Goriasa?' asked the priest.

'I don't know of any,' lied Persis.

'They are here. I can smell their vileness.'

The door opened and the little slave Norwin entered. Seeing the Priest he bowed low. Then he turned to Persis. 'The Palantes representatives are downstairs,' he said.

Relief swept over the fat circus owner. 'Bring them up,' he told him.

Norwin bowed again to the priest and backed out of the small room. All contracts over one thousand in gold now had to be witnessed by a priest, who then pocketed two per cent of the moneys.

'I understand Rage is to fight again,' said the priest.

'Yes indeed. Are you partial to the games?'

'Bravery is what makes our civilization great,' said the priest. 'It is good for our citizens to see martial courage.'

The door opened once more, and Norwin led two men inside. Both were middle-aged, and wearing expensive clothing, their cloaks edged with ermine. Seeing the priest they bowed. Persis was delighted to see they were as tense as he in the man's presence. Who wouldn't be? he thought. In ten years they had grown from a scholastic order, compiling a history of Stone, to become the most feared organization in the land.

The first of the two men, powerfully built, his long dark hair drawn back into a ponytail, produced two papyrus scrolls, which he handed to Persis. The man bowed. 'The Lord Absicus sends you his greetings. I am Jain, First Slave to Palantes. This is my colleague, Tanyan.'

Even their slaves are better dressed than I, thought Persis, noting the quality of Jain's long, blue woollen tunic, edged with gold, the chest embroidered with an eagle's head in black silk.