Spider was walking back to the pit’s centre, almost crowing with triumph. ‘No more failures, no more pitiful gambits. The Spider will deliver action!’

‘The Spider’s a fucking coward!’

The pit fell abruptly silent as Rennic’s cry echoed from its stone walls. Chel froze, his hand gripped around the prince’s. Fu. King. Hells.

Spider’s head tilted, a quick, reptilian motion. ‘Is that you, Beaky? Funny seeing you here, what with you being dead. Still, least said, soonest mended.’

Rennic’s teeth were bared, but it was nothing like a smile.

‘And how are you, Spider? Looking pretty perky for someone who jumped off a tower-top. They do say insects can survive long falls.’

‘The Spider is not an insect, maggot-dick,’ Spider replied with a glittering grin of pointed teeth. This, too, was devoid of mirth. ‘Which of the gobshites did you drag down here with you? Could it be …?’

He turned instantly on Chel, pinning him where he hunched against the wall with his pointed gaze. ‘Leaving already, rat-bear?’ Then his eyes glimmered wide, and a grin of malicious delight split his face. He jumped onto the nearest table and bellowed for quiet.

‘Brothers and sisters! The Shepherd has shown us her favour tonight! We have uncovered a spy in our midst, a traitor to land and people! That cloaked coward with the sand-crab is none other than Tarfel Merimonsun, the runt prince!’

Chel jerked on the prince’s hand, but he was immobile, his eyes locked on Spider. Before them, a man rose from his chair; a mercenary with an ornate hairstyle, a muscular pile almost a head taller than Chel. He regarded Chel and the prince with a deep frown. His armour creaked and rippled as he stood.

‘Whoever brings me his head shall be my first sworn!’ Spider bellowed.

Chel gritted his teeth.

‘Fuck.’

The mercenary lunged.

Something flowed in front of him, a blur of cloth and flame-red hair. The mercenary grunted as the pommel of Loveless’ short blade rammed into his groin, and as he doubled forward her upward-facing palm smashed into the soft tissue of his nose. His backward stagger became a tumble as she kicked his trailing ankle from under him, and he crashed to the stone floor, lowing like a bleeding heifer.

The pit fell quiet.

‘Next man crosses me,’ Loveless said, voice carrying clear across the pit as she raised the blade, ‘loses his bollocks. That’s my fucking vow.’ She gestured behind her back, urging Chel and the prince to move again. Chel grabbed Tarfel’s arm with both hands and yanked.

Spider bounced on his table.

‘She’s full of shit! Traitors! Kill them all! Any who hesitates dies as well! Death to the royals! Death to tyrants!’