Aside from the fact that she was as they had once been; like each one of them. Lonely and full of bitterness, bitterness for what the time of contempt had taken from her.

And in times of contempt anyone who is alone must perish.

Giselher, Kayleigh, Reef, Iskra, Mistle, Asse and Falka. The prefect of Amarillo was inordinately astonished when he learnt that the Rats were now operating as a gang of seven.

‘Seven?’ said the prefect of Amarillo in astonishment, looking at the soldier in disbelief. ‘There were seven of them, not six? Are you certain?’

‘May I live and breathe,’ muttered the only soldier to escape the massacre in one piece.

His wish was quite apt; his head and half of his face were swathed in dirty, bloodstained bandages. The prefect, who was no stranger to combat, knew that the sword had struck the soldier from above and from the left – with the very tip of the blade. An accurate blow, precise, demanding expertise and speed, aimed at the right ear and cheek; a place unprotected by either helmet or gorget.

‘Speak.’

‘We were marching along the bank of the Velda towards Thurn,’ the soldier began. ‘We had orders to escort one of Chamberlain Evertsen’s transports heading south. They attacked us by a ruined bridge, as we were crossing the river. One wagon got bogged down, so we unharnessed the horses from another to haul it out. The rest of the convoy went on and I stayed behind with five men and the bailiff. That’s when they jumped us. The bailiff, before they killed him, managed to shout that it was the Rats, and then they were on top of us… And put paid to every last man. When I saw what was happening…’

‘When you saw what was happening,’ scowled the prefect, ‘you spurred on your horse. But too late to save your skin.’

‘That seventh one caught up with me,’ said the soldier, lowering his head. ‘That seventh one, who I hadn’t seen at the beginning. A young girl. Not much more than a kid. I thought the Rats had left her at the back because she was young and inexperienced…’

The prefect’s guest slipped out of the shadow from where he had been sitting.

‘It was a girl?’ he asked. ‘What did she look like?’

‘Just like all the others. Painted and done up like a she-elf, colourful as a parrot, dressed up in baubles, in velvet and brocade, in a hat with feathers—’

‘Fair-haired?’

‘I think so, sir. When I saw her, I rode hard, thinking I’d at least bring one down to avenge my companions; that I’d repay blood with blood… I stole up on her from the right, to make striking easier… How she did it, I don’t know. But I missed her. As if I was striking an apparition or a wraith… I don’t know how that she-devil did it. I had my guard up but she struck through it. Right in the kisser… Sire, I was at Sodden, I was at Aldersberg. And now I’ve got a souvenir for the rest of my life from a tarted-up wench…’