She almost leaped away, fear washing her face. That made Lykos happy. Then she got angry and reached for a knife at her belt. Peritus gripped her wrist.

‘Now, is that a way for a wife to greet her husband?’

She spat in his face. ‘I’ll put a knife through either yours or my own heart before I let you touch me again,’ she hissed at him.

‘You should be careful, the promises you make. You may have to fulfil that one.’

‘I intend to. Where is Maquin?’ she asked, something other than rage seeping into her voice.

‘In my care,’ Lykos smiled. ‘He will be well looked after.’

‘He is my shieldman, I demand that he be returned to me.’

‘I don’t think so. He is a slave. My slave, my escaped property.’

‘You will give him back, unharmed, or I will have your head today, and no force in the world of flesh will stop me.’

She spoke with such utter conviction that for a moment he believed her.

‘Don’t worry, I have no desire to kill him, quickly.’ He smiled. ‘Living will be a greater punishment for him.’

‘You will—’

‘I will do as I please,’ he hissed, feeling his anger begin to wax like the tide. ‘And you will stop telling me what to do, unless you want Maquin’s head as a gift.’

The three eagle-guards nearby stepped closer, watching him suspiciously.

I must tread carefully. They love her more than they do me, and I no longer have the effigy Calidus gave me, or the regency of Tenebral. Power is a fickle master.

He let his eyes wander her face and body. ‘I had forgotten how beautiful you are,’ he said. ‘And look, you gave me this.’ He lifted his shirt and twisted to show a scar low on his back. ‘I treasure it,’ he whispered. ‘And when you are back in my bed, we shall discuss what would be a fitting punishment for betraying your husband so . . . thoroughly.’

Her fingers twitched for her knife again.

‘As much as I would love to stay and chat, I have work to do. But we shall talk again.’

‘There is nothing left to say until we are both standing before Nathair,’ Fidele said. ‘He shall decide the right and wrong of this.’

‘This is a reprieve for you, nothing more,’ Peritus said. ‘Once we are before Nathair, you will know justice.’

‘We shall see,’ Lykos said.

‘Return Maquin to me,’ Fidele called after him.

Never, bitch.

Veradis’ voice filled the room, shouting No, over and over. Alben was staring at him, shaking his head.

Lamar’s chest had stopped rising and falling.

Krelis darkened the tent entrance, came staggering over, as if drunk.

Veradis looked up at him. ‘He’s gone,’ he said, palms open and bloody.