'Shinir, get out to the back and check there,' Jachen said, his voice husky. He had drawn his sword, but he'd not had to fight – Lord Isak had made it clear that he had some very effective killers in his per¬sonal guard now, and that was not his job. He was to watch for what was going on beyond and around any fight, and to guard Tila from any threat.

'Karkarn's black teeth,' breathed Mayel, eyes widening as he watched Shinir scamper up a pillar and vault onto the balcony with consummate ease. 'You're like no mercenaries I've ever met.'

'You were a novice in a monastery; exactly how many mercenaries have you met in your life?' Jachen snapped, advancing on the youth.

'Being a novice doesn't make me brainless,' the boy said. He pointed at Shinir. 'No normal woman does that. Maybe a Harlequin could manage it, but no damned soldier.'

'Congratulations, you've just seen a damned soldier do it,' he said sarcastically.

'I say you're not normal mercenaries. No lord's tart- ah, begging your pardon, Miss,' he added hurriedly as he caught Vesna's expression, 'but no lord's mistress is so valuable she's protected by a white-eye his size-' he jabbed a grubby finger in Isak's direction, 'and a woman touched by magic, not both. Not when the city's terrified the entire Farlan Army's going to appear at the walls at any moment.'

'Why are you here?' Lord Isak interjected. 'I thought you were going to see if your cousin survived the other night?' After the chaos of the night at the necromancer's house, Isak had beaten a hasty retreat rather than get entangled in a fight witb the city guard. He'd seen some of the creatures crashing through the fence and decided on the spur of the minute that it would be too cruel to leave the boy to fend for himself, so he'd dragged Mayel along with him. Mayel had spent half of the next day in shock, huddled in a corner of the room, before he regained some semblance of his normal insouciance. He'd shaken himself all over, like a dog, and announcing he had to find his cousin, he grabbed some food and disappeared before anyone could talk him out of leaving the safety of the house.

'I did, but I hadn't realised the state the city's in. I'd never have made it back here if I'd not known the streets as well as I do. As It was-' Mayel gestured towards the corpses in the middle of the room. 'They came after me because I was alone. No other reason.'

'And your cousin?'

'Dead.' His shoulders fell. 'Dead, with most of his men, when the Dark Place spat out its creatures at them.'

'And he's the only person you know in the city?' Vesna asked, recalling what Ilumene, the supposed King's Man, had said to Isak: a priest on the run. He was beginning to think it was no coincidence that Mayel had been a novice at a monastery. The city was spiralling Into chaos with breathtaking speed, and Vesna was increasingly fearful that it was not by chance. Doranei had already told them Ilumene was now an enemy of Narkang and Morghien had hinted at a shadowy hand behind much to do with Isak too. What if this is only the next Step? Vesna thought.

'Who else could there be?' Mayel replied hotly. 'I've been in a mon-astery for the last few years.'

'IVrhaps someone from that monastery, then?' Vesna pressed. He hadn't sheathed his sword. Now he began to advance on the youth. There was something not right about this boy.

Mayel took a pace back.

'Perhaps someone who needed to hide in the city, someone who needed a native to help them?'

'I don't know what you mean,' Mayel blustered hut his eyes had already betrayed him.

'Balls you don't; you know exactly what I'm on about,' Vesna said angrily. Very deliberately, he tore a strip of clothing from one oi the dead men and used it to wipe his blade clean before sheathing it, Then, before Mayel realised what was happening, he'd stepped for-ward and grabbed the boy by the throat.

'You've been lying to us,' he said, 'so how about you spill what you know or I'll beat seven shades of shit out of you?'

Mayel struggled against Vesna's grip. 'I've not-'

He stopped abruptly as the count punched a fist into his gut, driv¬ing the wind from him.

'Not what?' he roared, shaking the youth like a terrier holding a rat. 'You're not going to tell me the truth?'

'I don't-!'

Mayel's gasping protests were cut off as Vesna slammed him into the wall. Terrified, he cowered, hands held out like a pleading supplicant.

Everyone else in the room kept silent and watched. They had all seen far worse; so far Vesna had been remarkably restrained. Mayel was obviously no trained liar; it wouldn't take much longer to get the truth they so desperately needed to hear.

'Trust me, boy; I can keep this up all day,' Vesna threatened, his voice silky. 'You'll want to give it up long before I do.' He snarled, and punched Mayel sharply.

The boy howled and flopped to the floor, and Vesna picked him up again and pinned him against the wall.

'Ready to tell me yet?'

'All right!' he gasped. 'Please, stop it, and I'll tell you.'

Vesna held him there for a few heartbeats, then let Mayel sink to his knees. He left the boy there as Isak beckoned and led him to a corner of the room where they could speak without being overheard.

Taking that as his cue, Jachen began removing the bodies as noisily as he could.

'Feeling better?' Isak asked softly. 'You've been boiling inside for days, my friend, something I recognise only too well. Now you've hurt someone, does that help?'

Vesna sighed. 'The boy's no good at lying. It looked worse than it really was; I pulled most of my blows. He's not really hurt much. I apologise if I went too far.'

'You were serving me as you should,' Isak said, laying a hand on the count's shoulder. 'It's just novel that I'm the composed one. Is there anything I should know? Not as your lord, but as your friend. What really happened in Tor Milist? Something there shook you up.'

'It's-' Vesna shook his head. 'Now is not the time, hut 1 would like to speak of it. Let us deal with the boy first.'

Isak led the way back to Mayel, who was sitting with his back to the way, grimacing.

He lifted the youth to his feet and inspected the damage. 'You'll have a fine bruise or two, but I don't think he's done much more than rattle your teeth. I'll be glad if I get no more than that before I get out of this city.'

Mayel touched a finger to his rapidly swelling cheek. The man who'd hit him was a strong man, and a fair bit taller. 'You'll be telling me he pulled his punches next,' he muttered, glaring at Vesna around Isak's massive body.

'And that shows it's just your pride that's hurt. A wise man once told me that was easily given up to save your life.'

'I'm sure the old sod would feel smug if he saw this then,' Mayel spat.

'I'm sure he would, but you don't get to call him an old sod,' Isak replied, and slapped him sharply on his bruised cheek.

The youth yelped and recoiled.

'Enough of the games. I'm losing patience,' Isak growled, loom-ing over the youth and glowering until he thought Mayel looked frightened enough to tell the truth. 'You had something to tell me.'

Mayel started shaking. Rubbing his cheek, he looked up at the huge white-eye towering over him. He had suddenly realised he was in over his head, and these men were not going to take it easy on him because he was just a scrawny ex-novice. 'Why do you even care about the monastery?' he whispered.

Call it professional interest,' Isak said, watching expressions dance across Mayel's face. Vesna was right; the boy was no accomplished liar. 'A priest was murdered last night, on stage, in front of a cheering crowd, From what I hear that's not the only priest who's been treated with something less than respect by the good citizens of Scree, and I'm curious as to why.'

1 don't know much about that,' Mayel said quickly. 'I came to Scree with the abbot of my monastery. We were hiding from a rogue monk; the prior of our order.'