Pilos didn’t need to fake his disgust or his rage. ‘This is their elder, Rix. When it comes time to slaughter the holy Setatmeh, Tokob shamans like that one give them a mix of herbs and frog secretions that make them hear things that they believe to be spirits. These sounds cover the holy Setatmeh song. Over the years this spirit-magic, as they call it, affects them. They become … unreliable, skittish. Moon-mad, some might say.’

Enet startled and glanced at the Singer. ‘How interesting. We will need to know what this mixture of herbs is, of course. But an elder, you say? One of the leaders of his people and yet now, here, in ropes. How tragic.’

Rix had been composed all the way here, and Pilos admired and respected him for it. He did not think Enet would be the one to break this man’s dignity with a few weak jibes.

‘The woman at the end is deaf, so has no need for frog-licking. All ejab, in fact all Tokob, from what I can tell, have a type of hand-speech that they use to communicate without voice. That is how she talks.’

Enet’s face twisted. ‘Deaf? A pity she will never hear the glory of the song. It would be kinder to kill her.’ Her eyes bored into his, daring him to contradict her on the song’s beauty.

‘Indeed.’

Enet leant behind the hanging and whispered. ‘The Singer in his wisdom finds her amusing and wishes to see this hand-speech. The elder can be her translator.’

‘As the holy lord commands.’ Pilos gestured and his eagles unbound their wrists and then pressed knives against their spines. He wondered whether this signed conversation would end in violence as the last one had and he checked to make sure the rest were securely bound.

‘Eja Xessa, tell the Singer and the council why you slaughter the holy Setatmeh.’

‘You said she was deaf,’ Enet snapped. ‘Why bother talking to her?’

‘Because she can read your lips,’ Rix answered before Pilos could. Xessa’s hands moved. ‘And your hostility would be clear even if I could not. I am not a trained monkey; I am a person and I am a killer.’ The corner of Rix’s mouth twitched in appreciation.

Pilos grabbed Xessa’s arm, not as amused as Rix. ‘Don’t antagonise your betters, slave,’ he growled. ‘Your good behaviour, and yours, elder, are all that stand between some of your people and death. You should know this by now.’

Xessa wrenched her arm free; then she hawked and spat phlegm onto the mats. Pilos slapped her face and she leapt for him, but Feather Detta wrestled her backwards and others restrained Rix as the council erupted with outrage and frightened squeaks. A few councillors scrambled away towards the gardens.