Temper nodded. Perhaps Dancer lied, but why should he bother? Maybe for all he knew Temper was the last. ‘And do what? Temper asked sharply, suddenly remembering where he was and with whom he negotiated.

‘Nothing distasteful. A battle, Temper. What you’re best at.’

He grunted. ‘Very well. Where is she?’

Dancer waved to the floor. ‘Right here.’

Corinn appeared from the shadows at his feet as if a blanket of night had been pulled from her. Temper extended an armoured foot, nudged her. All the while he kept an eye on Dancer. Corinn moaned, stirred groggily.

Grumbling irritation at himself and his position, Temper slammed home his weapons and lifted Corinn over one shoulder. He faced Dancer.

‘You two mean to retake the throne?’

The hooded head tilted to one side. Temper imagined a teasing smile. ‘We’re not here for a lark; you know that. But even from the beginning we didn’t want such an unwieldy entity. A kingdom, an Empire. These are just symbols. Kellanved and I see much further. We’ve always been after greater things.’ Dancer waved him away. ‘Go. There’s a nasty little battle brewing in town. I think you’ll find it amusing.’

Temper edged away; he wanted to ask about that battle but decided he was afraid of the answers. Backing up the stairs, Dancer dissolved into shreds of shadow and was gone.

Corinn’s flesh was cold to the touch. He adjusted her on one shoulder and started down the hall. What Dancer had said more or less agreed with own conclusions about the Emperor and his cohort. To his mind most people, like Surly, viewed control – political or personal – as the highest ambition. But men like Kellanved and Dancer were after Power, the ineffable quality itself. Heading a kingdom or an Empire was just one expression of it. They’d done that and now wanted more. What had that cultist, Pralt, said? That the control of a Warren was in the offing? Now there was a prize!

Temper paused as he stepped out into the moonlit bailey. He touched one hand to Corinn’s cheek. The flesh felt like damp clay. What time was it now? He scanned the sky: the moon would soon sink below the walls. That is, if the laws of celestial movements still held. Could it be near the sixth bell? Of course, there was no question of not following through with his word. If the island belonged to the cultists for the night, and they belonged to Dancer, then nowhere would be safe for him. And he had to admit he was curious. Too bad he couldn’t just go as a spectator. He adjusted Corinn over his shoulder. He had to get her somewhere quickly that was safe, and the nearest place was one he’d prefer not to visit. But it seemed he had no other choice.

Temper stopped at the main gate’s tunnel and gave Lubben’s door a kick. ‘Open up!’