He had to walk straight past two of them. One looked only a bit older than Joe, so he couldn’t have been one of the old duke’s men – he would have been a young child in the last war. This young recruit had red-rimmed eyes, Joe noticed, and his skin looked waxy yellow. He was sweating visibly as he struggled to hold a sword that was too big for him.

Joe kept his eyes down. He didn’t want to be recognised. There were ordinary people around, but they hurried along in twos and threes. No one was out alone, except him.

He made it past the Brotherhood’s men, and circled the deserted marketplace next. There were no stalls out today. How were people feeding themselves? Food supplies must be getting low in every single house. The island felt like a keg of firepowder, ready to blow.

Just a little longer, Joe thought, just till tonight.

Even the harbour was almost empty: a handful of fish­ing boats tugging gently at their moorings and a merchant vessel, which must have docked without knowing the news. It would soon be on its way, he was sure.

Joe waited in the shade of a warehouse at the edge of the dock area. The blue sea was sparkling and dancing, as if nothing had changed. Before long, Joe saw a fishing boat heading for its usual mooring. It was the Dolphin, and he recognised the old man at the helm as Simeon Windlass, Thom’s father. Joe hoisted himself up, palmed three gold coins and wandered out into the light. 247

He leaned on the harbour rail, whistling tunelessly, star­ing off into the far distance. He was aware of a curious glance from a pair of black-clad men, but he held his nerve and waited, waited, waited.

The sun felt hot on his face. Seagulls gathered in a scream­ing cloud above Simeon’s boat, waiting for their chance.

As soon as the soldiers’ attention was diverted, Joe started walking along the worn stones that edged the deep harbour, heading towards the Dolphin.

He paused by Simeon’s boat and pretended to drop some­thing. He bent down, so that his head was level with Simeon, working on deck.

‘Simeon,’ he greeted him.

Startled, Simeon examined Joe with his bright blue gaze.

‘Thom asked you to tell Isak that I survived, didn’t he? I’ll always be grateful to you for that.’

The old man nodded.

‘I need your help again,’ Joe told him.

Simeon waited, keeping his hands busy as he listened.

‘Where are Thom and Milla?’ Joe whispered, keeping his eyes on the men of the Brotherhood now, to check they weren’t watching.

‘They went to look at that volcano.’ Simeon followed Joe’s lead, not looking up as they spoke in whispers. ‘Thom was getting worried about it.’

Joe cursed. He’d been counting on Milla’s help. ‘Please can you get word to my brother on Sartola again? Tell the dragonriders to return – this evening?’248

‘You’re fighting them?’ Simeon’s tone told him exactly what he thought of the Brotherhood.