‘Corvel knows a thrice-damned sight more than anyone ever believed,’ he said, skin prickling with inner heat. ‘He knows I have a sister, and he’ll sure as day-old shit know that we’re gone and his gaoler is dead. He’ll know we had help. He’ll look.’

Another scream tore through the morning air, this one layered thick with madness.

‘And everyone confesses in the end.’

Rennic elbowed his way into their huddle. ‘It’s guarded,’ he snarled. ‘The fucking gatehouse has three men I can see and who knows how many more within. What the fuck are we supposed to do about them? Cough our way past? Why do you have no weapons?’

Sab stood her ground. ‘If you’d let me get to it, I’d tell you I planned for this.’ She gripped his arm and led him back to the battlement doorway. She pointed at a stack of bundles, piled against the base of the wall. ‘There, see it? It’s stacked with tinder and dried wood, plenty of green piled on top for some nasty smoke. I even rolled up a barrel of brandy from the cellars. Set that lot off, nobody is going to be looking at the gatehouse.’

Rennic gave a nod of the head. ‘Impressive. How do we set it off?’

Sab went a little pale, and Rennic’s expression darkened.

‘I … er …’

‘Jingling dick-bells, are you serious?’

‘I had a lot to do, all right, and not much time to do it in! And in absolute secrecy!’

‘Shepherd’s tits, there’s no way to light it.’

Sab was flushed but defiant. ‘Hey, there are plenty of ways to light it. I could go down there, and—’

Before Chel could throw himself into the argument, Tarfel spoke up. ‘I know where they put your stuff. Your weapons and armour.’

Rennic turned to him, very slowly.

‘Yes, princeling?’

‘It’s in the armoury, above the stables. There are bows there, and crossbows. You could light the pile with a flaming arrow, right?’

Rennic stared at him for a long time, eyes burning, then he shrugged. ‘Not very subtle, but fuck it, yeah.’

Outside in the courtyard the chanting of the crowd reached a crescendo, and the final, agonising scream ended with abrupt certainty.

‘Show me.’

***

Rennic stalked along the empty hallways like a great prowling cat, sliding from one pool of shadow to the next, his fists clenching and unclenching as he went. Tarfel trotted in his wake, pointing the way in mute distress, while Chel brought up the rear, casting pinched looks back down the passageway to where his sister and the Nort huddled on the battlement. Tension radiated from the man in front. Until he held a weapon, Rennic would not relax.