‘Please, no apologies are necessary,’ she said, dismissing my contrition with a wave of her hand. ‘I also dabble in artistic pursuits and quite understand how one can get lost in the process.’

‘I had no idea, governor. May I ask your medium?’

‘Painting,’ she replied. ‘Stretched canvas with oil and brush. Somewhat antiquated, I realise, but on Bacchus we appreciate traditional methods.’

We were both staring straight ahead, conducting the conversation from the corners of our mouths. She too must have seen the empty boat bobbing in the water ahead of us, a single oar floating forlornly beside it. But she said nothing, instead placing a purple berry on her tongue.

‘I would love to see your work,’ I said. ‘If such a thing were permitted.’

She laughed lightly. ‘Oh, I could not present it to someone of your calibre. It is simply an indulgence for my own pleasure, or an outlet for frustration, depending on the day. But I understand how absorbing the pursuit of art can be, sometimes to the artist’s detriment. For I heard you had a rather dangerous encounter in the swamps. I gather your aircraft was the only survivor?’

‘That is sadly true. We encountered a significant ork force concealed in the swamps.’

‘Unfortunate.’ She frowned. ‘One would have thought some light reconnaissance could have uncovered such a threat.’

‘I believe we were the reconnaissance. At least of a sort.’

‘I have heard similar,’ Dolos replied.

Gradeolous, standing behind her, was rigid as a statue.

‘You should not be risking yourself on the front line,’ she continued, holding out her hand, a glass appearing in it a fraction later. ‘You are in line for succession. Technically.’

‘I think there is little risk of that.’

She shrugged. ‘Perhaps not. But it would reflect poorly on my hospitality if you were to die in the conflict. Governor Zanwich might never speak to me again.’

‘With respect, milady, I have been tasked by the governor to complete the project. That involves a degree of risk.’

‘But you must have enough material now,’ she persisted. ‘You have undertaken half a dozen assignments already. That is surely sufficient?’

‘There is volume enough. But I lack a narrative thread. There have been battles but no resolution. I do not see this war ending soon.’

‘Sadly, I agree. Not the way it is currently being fought.’

We sped past a couple more of the smaller skiffs, each propelled by a standing oarsman and overburdened with vine-fruit. I could not help but note the cargo was pockmarked, the yellowed flesh infested with dark stains. The colour reminded me of Dolos’ blushed berries. The smaller vessels were converging on a distant structure I could not quite identify. I caught the glint of metal etched by the unyielding afternoon sun, but it was behind the structure, condemning it to shadow.

‘Might I offer a suggestion?’ Dolos asked.

‘Of course, governor.’