He gestured to the two figures next to him. Bendikt knew them both. Captain Ostanko of First Company was one of Baytov’s favourites, a true son of Cadia: handsome, lean, with a roguish manner and an unruly mop of glossy black hair. Captain Irinya Ronin, commander of Second Company, was one of the most respected officers in the regiment. She had metal joints in her left arm, and a short buzz cut of steel-grey hair. In earlier times she would have retired from front-line service and transferred to a Whiteshield training programme, but there was no retirement now, and there was no weakness or infirmity about her as she returned Bendikt’s handshake.

‘Welcome to Malouri!’ Bendikt said to them all. He led them into the palace. The fervour engine was singing beatitudes of hatred: hatred of the weak, hatred of the xenos, hatred of the unclean, hatred of the cowardly.

A few officers were hanging about, hoping to catch Bendikt for a quick word. Mere intercepted them. Against this eventuality they had carefully inscribed their petitions on parchment, and he gathered them all under his arm. ‘I will make sure these are all screened and, if necessary, seen to personally by the general and his staff,’ he said.

Once they were out of earshot Mere handed them to Prassan. ‘Deal with these.’

Bendikt led them into his private suite. Servitore had just finished tidying the room, and he began backing out as the Cadians entered. Bendikt took no notice. He strode to the side table where a freshly refilled bottle of Arcady Pride stood next to a set of hand-polished crystal glasses.

Bendikt unstoppered the bottle and poured each of them a healthy shot.

‘To Cadia!’ he said as each took their glass.

They upended their glasses and set them down on the table, then Bendikt took off his cap and tossed it aside. ‘Sit,’ he said.

The Cadians looked incongruous amidst the opulence of the General’s Palace, with its damasked cushions and fine Namian carpets spread upon the floor. They were lean and hard, with battle-worn uniforms, and old scars of blade and shot upon their flak armour plates.

But they had work to do, and they focused immediately as Bendikt gave a brief summary of his morning’s expedition. ‘I trust that you have seen the island?’

‘Yes,’ Baytov said. ‘We asked the Valkyrie pilot to take us out to the cliffs. It’s impressive.’

‘Good, then you have a sense of it. I have declared that it should fall by Sanguinalia.’

Baytov made no comment, but Bendikt could tell the other man thought this was a tall order. ‘You think that is impossible?’ he said.

Baytov shook his head. ‘If that is our orders then that is what we shall achieve.’

Bendikt nodded. ‘Good!’ He spread the charts on the table. ‘Come,’ he said. ‘Have a look at these and tell me what you think.’