Tarfel shook his head. ‘The reverse. Withdraw. Abandon your posts, retreat to your strongholds. Let the crown face what follows. And when you see its back, strike as one.’

‘Void our own contracts?’

‘They are already void; you merely await the paperwork.’

‘Then attack the king’s army?’

Tarfel met Saleh’s gaze and held it. ‘You will not be alone when you do. Which is more than can be said for the alternative.’

Chel nudged Rennic. ‘I think she’s going for it. That’s good, right?’

He nodded. ‘If Saleh swings, she’ll carry a lot with her. Black Suns are huge.’

Nadej was getting to her feet. ‘Where’s the fucking—’

A flunky rushed to the dais – not the same one as had been at the bridge, Chel noted – and whispered something urgent to the captain-general of the Keys. He stiffened. ‘Captains!’ he bellowed across the hall. ‘An armoured host approaches.’

The hall fell into uproar, both Saleh and the captain-general shouting for quiet. ‘A modest host,’ he added when the volume had dropped a notch, ‘but clad in red robes.’ He finished with a meaningful glance at Tarfel.

At once, the hall began to empty, the mercenaries streaming out through the wide doors. ‘What’s happening? Chel asked. ‘Where are they going?’

Rennic’s gaze was distant, his brows lowered. ‘Battlements. Grab the princeling. Seems the Foss might have been right about that rider after all.’

***

Not everyone was heading for the battlements. The stable-yard was teeming with activity as dozens of figures dragged their horses clear, mounted and made for the bridge. Chel hurried along beside the prince. ‘Well done, Tarf. That was … that was really good.’

Tarfel’s cheeks were flushed, his breath coming hard, but his eyes were wide with elation. ‘Do you think so, Vedren? Do you think they believed me?’

‘Even if they weren’t all the way convinced, whatever is across the bridge may well have nudged things our way.’

‘Four Wars!’ As they crossed the yard, Fest appeared once more, as if he’d been waiting in the shadows. ‘Looks like someone tipped the big bad king to our little gathering of southern captains. Wasn’t you, was it?’

Rennic grunted and shook his head, continuing his path toward the stairway at the yard’s end. Chel and the others followed, although Chel stepped a little closer to the prince.

‘Not joining us in riding out? Facing down our foe, or running to the hills?’ Fest tapped the side of his nose. ‘Although I understand the back gate is open, if you put a spurt on.’ He diverted to his dappled mount and swung himself into the saddle. ‘Be seeing you, Four Wars. Happy campaigning!’ With that, he rode for the gate, his spearmen in formation riding after.

Rennic turned to watch him go. ‘Prick,’ he muttered. ‘Let’s see what’s out there.’

***