Shaking his head at the continued uselessness of Lemon’s answers, Chel pulled on the shirt. The silk was sleek and cold against his shivering skin. He laced as fast as he could before his fingers began to numb, then threw on the padded linen overcoat and Lemon’s fancy new mail over the top. He was at least warmer with his new layers, especially once he got his cloak back around his shoulders, although he felt mule-wide and no less cumbersome. The mule gave him a quick side-eye, as if registering his presence for the first time, then flicked an ear and went back to staring into the middle distance.

‘Everyone ready?’

Rennic looked edgy, eyes darting, feet jittering. It took Chel a moment to realize that he was excited. His gaze kept returning to the bridge and the waiting fortress, its black flag snapping in the breeze.

‘How’s the gear?’

‘Yeah, pretty good, I think.’

‘Good, good. Looks good.’ Rennic drifted off, turning his staff in his hands. ‘Loveless put hers on?’

‘She wouldn’t wear the silk, but—’

He threw up a hand like this was expected. ‘Let’s get moving.’

Chel fell into step with Lemon as they crunched down the narrow road toward the bridge. He gazed again at the shining fortress, shielding his eyes from the cloud-washed glare. ‘It’s a hell of a structure, isn’t it?’

‘Aye, well, they’ve added to it as they’ve gone, of course.’

‘Of course.’

‘But you’re right, there’s a lot of coin to be made in the contract market.’ Lemon flicked a glance toward Rennic, who walked beside Whisper with his shoulders hunched. ‘Or at least there should be.’

Chel rubbed at one eye, watering in the day’s grey glare. The closer they got, the more ornate the pale stonework became, the more intricate the carvings on every visible pillar and block. ‘I get it, I just … I didn’t think there was that much coin.’

‘Depends on your outlook, cub.’ Loveless was beside him, new mail belted beneath a fetching cloak. ‘Economically speaking, maintaining a standing army is for chumps. All those fighting types, kept away from land and loom, needing to be fed, armoured and housed all year round, whether there’s fighting work to be done or not. Makes more sense to rent a few hundred spears when the occasion dictates, no?’ She paused, her gaze slipping away down the river’s curve, and ran a hand through her lively pink hair. ‘Until recently, anyway.’

‘Assuming your opponent isn’t offering a smidge more for the same forces, of course,’ Lemon chipped in, still leading the mule with one hand while she gestured with the other. ‘May present occasion for embarrassment there.’

‘At that stage, we’re talking a different kind of forces, Lem.’

‘Oh, aye?’

‘Market forces.’