Leo looked to the few well-drilled blocks of dark-uniformed cavalry towards the front. “At least we can rely on the Anglanders.”

“They’re with you to the death,” said Jurand.

Glaward clapped a heavy hand on Leo’s shoulder. “And so are we.” For a fond moment, it felt almost like old times.

Forest was fretting at his frayed cuffs as he stared towards that smear on the sky. “They must know we’re coming.”

“They believe we’re killing each other miles away,” said Leo. “And Inspector Teufel is making sure the People’s Inspectorate won’t be putting anyone straight on that score.”

“You trust her?” asked Forest.

“No,” said Leo. “But trust is a poor foundation for an alliance. I’ve found to my cost the woman’s damned effective.”

“Even so. You can’t keep thousands of soldiers secret for long.”

“Who’s this?” Glaward spurred in front of Leo, hand on his sword. A couple of Forest’s scouts were leading a dishevelled horse by the bridle, a dishevelled prisoner in the saddle with hands tied behind him.

“Caught this article on the road ahead, Lord Marshal!” one of them called out.

“Caught me?” squawked the prisoner. “I was bloody trying to find you! I’ve a message from Corporal Tunny!”

Forest grinned. “That article’s called Yolk, and I’m sorry to say he’s on our side. Let him free.”

Once he had his hands back the man gave a slovenly salute. “It’s Lord Brock I need to speak to. I mean to say… are you lords again, now? It’s all—”

“Out with it,” snapped Leo.

“It’s your wife. She’s… well, there’s no easy way to say it…”

“Take the hard way, then.”

“They’ve arrested her. Judge is putting her on trial for profiteering and treason and… er…” Yolk swallowed. “Well, incest got a mention.”

Silence. Behind them the drums, and the tramping boots, and the clatter of gear went on. Leo wondered how he ought to feel. Would be expected to feel. He bunched his good hand into a fist. “When?”

“Today. The king’ll be there. Hell, half the city’ll be there, it’s set to be the biggest execution since Risinau went off the Tower… that is to say…”

“We’ll get there in time,” said Jurand. “Don’t worry. We’ll get there.”

“I know,” muttered Leo. It was terrible news, of course. His wife was in danger. His children. He made sure everyone could see how deeply he felt it. Terrible news. But he couldn’t help seeing an upside. The Burners would be distracted. It might give them an opening.

Forest nudged his mount close. “Listen, Young Lion, I sympathise, but you can’t let this get in the way. His Majesty’s safety has to come first.”

“They’ll both be at the Court of the People,” said Leo. “Save one, we save the other.”

Jurand frowned back towards the sleepwalking soldiers. “We’ll save no one limping along like this.”

“Agreed,” said Forest.

“If I learned one thing at Stoffenbeck,” said Leo, “it’s that you’ll do no good with bad men. Lord Marshal, I suggest you pick out two hundred men you fully trust, the best armed and mounted. Your most loyal. When we make it through Arnault’s Wall—”