As I straightened the piles of documents, a new thought ignited fierce anger inside me, driving away these fruitless musings. Geris had spent time here, he had been given the run of these books, had been asked to write down his conclusions. He had to have co-operated. There was no way he could have done this kind of work with his skull full of the Ice-man's control. I could hardly blame him, given the situation he found himself in. Had he bargained his learning for freedom? Perhaps, but I guessed being let loose among so much information had been a powerful temptation in itself.

Had he expected to be killed once he'd finished the job? I hoped not; I would have anticipated it but I would probably have still gone along with the game, hoping for a lucky throw of the runes to get me out. If I looked at it from White-hair's point of view, killing Geris made sense; no point risking him telling all to a rival or getting free to take Elietimm information home. That was all very well but if Geris had been co-operating there had been no point to the torture, no reason for it that I could see other than black-hearted sickness of mind. Stuff it, I just didn't have time for this. I seized any papers that I thought might prove useful — might as well be flogged for a loaf as a slice after all — and snuffed the candle end and left.

I stood in the corridor wondering which way to go when I noticed another fine lock. Given my history with secured doors and boxes, it can come as no surprise that I was in there in a few breaths. A smile cracked my dry lips when I saw I had found our clothes and some of our gear. You'd have thought these would have gone as booty but Ice-man obviously kept his troops on a tight rein, or he was keeping our presence a close secret. A number of items had been unpicked or cut apart but it seems shirts and breeches are the same the world over and were of little interest. I was in my breeches and boots faster than a lover who's heard the husband's horse ride up and quickly sorted out Ryshad's and Aiten's.

Saedrin seize it, there were no weapons. I looked around the room; there had to be some close at hand, I was certain of it though I could not have told you why. Crossing to the window to crack open the shutter for some light, I found a deep wooden coffer in the embrasure. Once I had it open, steel, silver and gold glinted in the starlight.

'Thank you, Poldrion,' I breathed in exultation.

The swords were not our own but anything with a handle and sharp edges would suit me. There were two good blades, heavy and longer than the usual, as well as a handful of daggers. Lack of scabbards and belts was going to be a problem but we'd just have to live with that; a sword in each hand certainly improved my morale.

A noise outside froze me to the floorboards. Through the crack in the shutters, I saw the sentries meet at the top of the stairs to the parapet. A second pair were coming up and they paused, presumably to swap notes, before the original two hurried down, doubtless to warmth, food and sleep. I squinted round the edge of the shutter to follow them and saw the bright glow of a brazier as they went into the gate-house. I scanned the stars; Trimon's Harp was directly overhead and if guards were changing the shift again we had to be well on the way to dawn. Nights here might be long but I didn't have time to waste. I quickly rummaged among the velvet packages at the bottom of the coffer. One turned out to be full of rings and I shoved two or three on to all my fingers; there had to be some people around here who'd take a bribe.

I swept quickly round the room in case I'd missed anything but all I found was a privy closet in a niche behind a curtain. I had turned to ignore it when a thought struck me. I looked at it, at the ewer of water standing ready to sluice it, and then peered down into the privy itself where an open drain fell away into darkness. I'd heard of water closets, though never seen one, but this seemed to be halfway between that and the seat, pail, box of ashes to shovel in after yourself arrangement that I was used to.

Water. I racked my brains but I couldn't think of any standing fresh water that we'd seen on our trip. Come to that, the streams we'd crossed had been mean little things and that village had had rainwater cisterns on every roof whereas I couldn't remember seeing a well, not in the open anyway. This was a rich household but while they might have water to spare for rinsing out the privy, I'd wager that it was put to further use after they were done with it. I decided to follow both that thought and the drains.

I found my way rapidly to the lower levels, moving cautiously in case of wandering servants. They were conspicuous by their absence and I wondered briefly why this was but came up with no answers. A cat prowling for vermin nearly gave me a seizure when it silently rubbed round my legs but other than that the place was deserted. I don't know where the kitchens were; the lowest levels of the keep were bathing and laundry rooms. As I had hoped, these all had large drains set in the middle of sloping floors and it was quick work to prise up a cover. I checked a few and sure enough, they were all heading south. It took me a few moments to get up the courage to crawl along one but the pressure of time was now beating relentlessly on the back of my head.

These drains were large, and I supposed they had to be in a place so obsessed with washing. Small hand- and footmarks in drifts of silt also suggested that hapless maids or children were sent down here to keep them clear. I could move along easily enough but I was a little concerned about the others. Aiten should be all right, as should Shiv, despite his height, given his skinny build. Ryshad might find it a squeeze but if it were a choice between risking a few grazes and getting out of this cursed place, I felt sure he'd opt for the former. I pressed on, hopes rising as the drains joined and continued to head south. My nose told me when a foul-water sluice joined the flow but I could not let that stop me. I tried to keep out of the mire and made a mental note to warn Aiten; we couldn't risk him getting this shit in his cuts, else they'd fester in no time.

With the load I was carrying and the necessity of walking bent double, my back was aching fiercely and my eyes straining uselessly in the dark when I came up against what I first thought was a corner. I felt carefully round the walls but it soon became apparent it was a dead end. So where was the water going? I reached reluctantly under the surface and discovered a spread of smaller pipes; this was clearly as far as I could follow. So why have such a large space here? Why not spread the pipes out before this?

After racking my brains for what seemed like an age, I felt above my head. After a few false starts, I found what I suspected must be there — a hatch. I pushed at it cautiously but it had no fastening and when I had it open just enough to see out, I found I was in the walled garden with the hot-houses. I bit down on an exclamation of success and concentrated on looking all around to see where we might go from here. We would have to be careful over a route, I realised. The tall winter-killed stems of a corn crop were coiled around with the remnants of bean plants while the ground was covered with the flat leaves of something I didn't recognise. Three crops on the same ground; in other circumstances it would have been admirable, but here all that concerned me was the potential for noise in such a dense mass of dry vegetation. I identified the outer wall and was delighted to see a postern gate in it. It was barred and bolted against intruders but that was no problem since we would be leaving, not entering. The unwelcome scrape of boots on the wall walk reminded me of the sentries and curbed my elation. I frowned; would Shiv be up to masking us with a concealing illusion, if only long enough for us to get through the gate and clear of the walls?