Mihn was silent for a while. Eventually he spoke again. 'And your reason for telling me?'

Vesna sighed. 'Honour can get you killed. It will if you seek to protect it often enough.'

'Yet sometimes there is more to life than that – sometimes a stand must be taken in full acknowledgement of the price. Your father realised that. He wanted those he considered family to realise he valued them above his own life.'

'In defence of those you consider family,' Vesna continued, eyes fixed in the distance.

'I hear a question hanging in the air.'

'Yes. Who do you consider family?'

In a voice so quiet that Vesna wasn't sure he heard it exactly, Mihn said, 'Those I would make sacrifices for – those I would follow into the Dark Place, if need be.'

The two men fell silent. Only the clatter of hooves on the cobbled street and Vesna's long puffs disturbed the quiet. Minutes passed and Vesna's thoughts had not left the conversation, but all of a sudden he heard a noise, somewhere off to the right – the scrape of a roof tile, perhaps. Both men turned immediately. Vesna slid a hand behind him to grip the crossbow hanging from his saddle.

He'd wound and cocked the weapon before leaving; night had few witnesses and some of the things lurking in the streets wouldn't be looking merely to rob him. There were gargoyles and colprys both willing to attack a human, though such attacks were rare, and bands of enraged penitents roaming the streets.

'Can you see anything?' Vesna said softly, loading a quarrel into the bow.

'No, but I doubt it'll be anything that requires that,' Mihn said, cocking his head, trying to hear better. 'No man would be up on the roofs tonight, not in this cold, and I can't believe any creature would attack two men on horses.'

Vesna continued to stare at the silent houses, but there was no sound beyond the sound of hooves. 'If you say so.' He turned back to check their route, but kept the bow in his lap all the same.

The brothel they were heading for was a large fortified building set against the wall itself. It had been secured on a peacetime lease from the City Council, and most likely was unaffected by the recent unrest. It was easily defended, and it catered to noble tastes, so there was money to spend on guards, quite aside from the fact that most of the patrons would have come armed.

'Are we close to Death's Gardens?' Mihn asked suddenly, pointing off to their right.

'Yes, I think so.' Vesna frowned for a moment and turned in his saddle to inspect the streets running south. 'Yes, they're that way, past the Poacher's Moon shrine.' He pointed down one street.

Death's Gardens was the name given to a small public park owned by the cult of Death. It was less than two hundred yards long on any of its three sides. Much of it was given over to ancient cultivated yews, and in the centre was a miniature lake which, for no good reason Vesna had ever been able to fathom, contained a pair of pike that the priests of Death fed. Ehla, the witch of Llehden, and the Demi-God Fernal had scandalised the people of the city by building themselves a camp in the gardens, having both found themselves uncomfortable in the bustling confines of Tirah Palace, but the clerics of the city had thus made only a token protest at their presence. Witchcraft was no more frowned upon than magery, and the priests were more concerned about the mages, being traditional competitors, richer and not accompanied by a terrifying Demi-God.

'You want to visit the witch at this hour?'

'I am plagued by questions and I believe she understands the nature of the Land better than any other I trust with my thoughts.'

'It's a bit late for social calls, isn't it?' Vesna pulled his fox-lined cape tighter about his body and suppressed a shiver. The cold prickled sharply on his face and rubbing his cheeks with the palms of his gloves only increased his discomfort.

Mihn shrugged. 'She will not complain; it is her purpose in life to be there when others need her help.' He nudged his horse in the right direction.

As he passed Vesna, the count saw rare uncertainty on Mihn's face and reminded himself that the failed Harlequin had been alone since being cast out of his tribe. It would be hard for him to take any sort of advice from others.

'Thank you, for bringing me out this way. I- I've not really left the Palace since returning. I think- It appears I fell out of the habit of enjoying myself quite a while ago.' A flicker of embarrassment showed in Mihn's eyes.

Vesna smiled. 'It's considered something of a speciality of mine, so there'll be other opportunities. Go on – but be quick; it might be her lot in life to help those who need it, but Ehla still strikes me as a bad woman to annoy and it's late enough already.'

Mihn gave him a weak grin and trotted away, leaving the count sitting alone in the middle of the street.

'Here's a sorry state of affairs,' Vesna muttered. 'A man with my reputation, out in the cold and off to a brothel by himself. I'll probably find the rest of them stopped off somewhere else and my best chance of company tonight will be in Death's Gardens!'

Reaching the end of the road he took the right-hand of a fork and, out of habit, looked all around to check for threats. Aside from the lights of the College of Magic, there were scant traces of life from the city, which was already barricaded against the pitiless winter to come. Within the walls, family life would continue as normal, he knew, but as he caught sight of one of the towers on the city wall, Vesna felt particularly aware of Mihn's absence.

So, it's not just Lord Isak who finds the man a comfort to have around, Vensa joked to himself, forcing a grin onto his face.

He left Hamble Lanes behind. In this poorer district the buildings were, perversely, larger, housing many families rather than one. The grim stone blocks were built around a courtyard, which provided winter homes for all sorts of travellers, including the wagon-train Isak had once belonged to. The young white-eye wouldn't have merited a space inside during the winter; most likely he'd been sent to the stables, where he'd have to rely on livestock to provide warmth rather than a communal fire.

The clink of metal on stone woke him from his thoughts. His head snapped around and he began to scan the shadows for movement.

Damn, this is as good a place as any for an ambush. He still couldn't see anyone else abroad, but he tightened his grip on the crossbow and urged his horse into a brisk trot.

Am I imagining things? I'm sure we weren't followed from the palace. He was just about to give up and laugh at himself when a sudden scuffle of feet came from the same direction as the earlier sound. Vesna didn't wait to hear any more but slammed his spurs into the hunter's flanks and leaned low over its neck as the horse jerked forward into a gallop.

The road here was just packed dirt, but the sound of racing hooves was enough to shatter the silence. In response Vesna heard a shout from behind him. He'd been right. He urged the horse to go faster, while trying to spot anyone ahead of him – if this was an ambush, he might not be out of the trap yet, and while he was not much of a shot from horseback, it might prove a deterrent for anyone-

He never got the chance. A blur flashed in from his left and slammed into his horse's neck. Vesna barely had time to register it was an arrow as the horse screamed and staggered a few steps before crashing to the ground. Vesna jumped from the saddle, throwing himself clear of the falling beast. His left shoulder smashed into the ground and he sprawled heavily on his back, lights bursting in his head as it slammed backwards.

Blinking, Vesna stared up at the night sky for some few seconds, too stunned to move. From there he could see a great swathe of stars and the greater moon, Alterr, with a strip of cloud across her. As his senses returned he heard running feet and shouting: three figures closing on him fast, a large man in the centre carrying a bow.