Vrain showed no relish as he produced the official summons, and Bitterlich could almost believe he had some sympathy for Isabelle, but it was equally true that he would not let such a paltry emotion stand in the way of his own elevation. Vrain had been lured into this mission on the promise of being made a capitaine when it was done. Isabelle’s fall merely accelerated his rise, like dropping ballast.

Bitterlich read the summons, which was as short and to the point as legal phrasing and diplomatic flourishes would allow. It was stamped with the imperial seal.

It was not possible for an actual letter to have been delivered from the capital in the last day or so, but Joubert’s Folly kept an imperial transcriptionist on retainer. He or she would be a Sanguinaire with a bloodhollow in the capital who could duplicate an official document and apply a copy of the seal to it.

Bitterlich returned the document. “I see, sir.”

Vrain said, “As the new capitaine of the Thunderclap, I am detailing you to ensure Capitaine Isabelle reaches Rocher Royale safely.”

All the fur on Bitterlich’s spine stood up in anger, for this move was as cowardly as it was cynical. Vrain was removing him because he was Isabelle’s ally and possibly because he was a Seelenjäger. Yet it was a command well within his authority to give.

“Yes, sir,” Bitterlich said. As furious as the dismissal made him, Isabelle was the reason he’d signed up for this adventure. Given the choice, he would have volunteered to stay with her. Yet having it done this way was like being handed a plum after it had been smashed in the dirt.

Turenne said, “There’s a regular tender that arrives in a week. I’ll have a berth made for you on its return trip.”

“Very good, Commandant,” Bitterlich said. One of the beauties of military communication was that it could conceal a great deal of outrage under brief formalities.

The other officers began to arrive in pairs and triples. Out of pure counteragent reflex Bitterlich faded into the background, watching and listening even while he fumed.

Vrain said, “One of our allied scouts has spotted Hasdrubal’s sloop making speed toward the City of Gears. We’ve also received word via the Cauldron that the tyrant’s own fleet is massing off the Sundered Isles. Intelligence suggests they mean to rendezvous with Hasdrubal. Our best chance of recovering Windcaller Dok, the relic, and the Conquest shard is to catch Hasdrubal before the Skaladin can join forces. The Hoary Fleet has already sailed into the outer vortex to try and cut off Hasdrubal’s escape route. As soon as we are resupplied, the Thunderclap will give chase and put the pressure of the hound on him.”