“My God,” whispered the commissar.

“Pah!” continued the priest. “It was as much as I could stand to touch something that belonged to him.

But something he said last night . . . I confess, I underestimated the power it would give me. At first when I got there they took no notice of me. You know what they’re like. But I was talking to a group of them by a bonfire, and frankly I was about to give up. They weren’t even looking at me. But then one of them noticed the scarf around my arm. I took it off and gave it to him, and after that, everything was different.

It was like a magic talisman. Some savage symbol. They passed it from hand to hand, and the whole crowd came to stand around me, listening to every word I said. They seemed . . . very subdued. Then at the end, one of them took the scarf and wound it round the point of a spear, as if it were a kind of flag.

Nobody said a word. Of course, I can’t be sure they’ll do it—who can be sure? But I really think they might. When I left, they were saddling the horses.”

“What did you tell them?” asked the commissar.

The priest laughed. “It’s so simple. I gave them a message from Aspe. ‘When you see my standard, come meet me up the road.’ That’s all.”

“My God,” said the commissar. “They’re going to charge the guns.”

“Yes, isn’t it priceless? A fly couldn’t live in that barrage. And Aspe—I thought it so appropriate that he should give the signal. My only fear is, if the mist holds, they might not see his flag.”

Thanakar looked up. The clifftops to the east were still invisible. “It’s a chance,” he said. He looked back down the Keyhole towards the antinomial camp. “I’ll go back,” he said.

“No,” said the commissar. “That’s no use. It’s a decision they have made. They’re not stupid. No.

You’ve got to go the other way. Find the colonel. Find Aspe.”

The priest squinted. “Here,” he said. “What do you mean?” But before he could move, the commissar pushed him in the chest, and he tripped over a rock and fell down backward.

“Damn you!” shouted the old man, standing over him. “Damn your eyes, Gorfang Starbridge. Traitor!”

And to the doctor, he said, “Go on, my boy. Hurry. I’ll keep this bastard back.”

But the priest drew a knife from his boot and lunged at him, and stabbed him through the chest. The commissar seized him by the arms as he tried to jump away, and Thanakar moved behind them, and snatched up a rock, and battered the priest’s head in from behind. Then he pried him loose from the commissar’s arms and flung him aside.

The commissar stood, swaying slightly in the middle of the road, his hands clasped around the knife haft, which protruded just below his breastbone. He grunted as he drew it out, and the blood poured down his chest. Thanakar went to him, but the old man pushed him away and sat down heavily on some rocks, stanching the bloodflow with one hand. “No time,” he said. “Hurry.”