‘Nothing,’ said the Khan. ‘At least nothing that requires you for the moment.’ His eyes were like shards of ice catching sunlight. His presence was like the touch of the wind blowing across a mountain. On her shoulder, Kelik gave a soft call, and shifted his perch. She shook herself and stepped aside.

‘Please,’ she said, pulling the Chogorian words of hospitality from memory, suddenly aware of the shot-pistol still in her hand. ‘Enter as a friend.’

The Khan’s smile broadened.

‘I am humbled. May fortune flow from your generosity.’

He bowed his head before stepping forwards to pass through the door. The movement was slow, she noticed, unhurried, like the padding of a snow leopard across a glacier. All of that inhuman, dazzling speed was absent, replaced by poise. He did not wear his armour, but a coat of soft, black leather, lined and edged with white fur over layers of silk. The jewelled pommels of knives gleamed at his waist, and silver rings circled his fingers with falcons and snakes. His hair gleamed with oil and clinked with beads of copper, lapis and moonstone. He looked, she thought, just what he was: a warlord untamed by time or place.

She motioned to the cushions on the floor, tapping more glow-globes to life. The Khan’s gaze moved across the room with a fleeting glance that she was sure had taken in every detail. His eyes paused as she unloaded the shot-pistol and replaced it in its box beside the empty space left by the other half of the paired weapons.

‘A spoil of battle without its twin,’ he said, sitting on one of the cushions. Arrayed in half-plate and silks, he somehow looked utterly at ease in the small space despite his size.

‘I gave the other away,’ she said, offering him a glass of spice tea.

‘To another warrior?’ he said, accepting the glass and taking a sip.

‘To my daughter.’

‘Of course… Where does she serve?’

‘I think you know that, my lord.’

She held his gaze for a second. His smile dimmed, and he nodded.

‘Captain Khalia Su-Kassen Hon II, last recorded deployment as officer commanding the Thunder Break, attached to the Sixty-Third Expeditionary Fleet under the command of the Sixteenth Legion… the Sons of Horus.’

She nodded and held his gaze. Her thoughts had gone very still.

‘Yes, my lord.’

‘Prior to the betrayal, of course,’ he added.

‘How may I serve, lord?’ she said, taking a seat opposite him.

He looked at her and then around the small room.

‘You have doubts about my brother’s method of fighting this war.’

‘I helped devise the battle plans, lord. I have no doubts.’ She paused.

The Khan smiled, but his eyes had moved to where Kelik still perched on her shoulder. The gyre-hawk gave a soft caw, unfolded his wings and glided to the Khan’s wrist. He grinned, eyes flashing as they met the bird’s gaze.