The two guards standing sentry at the bottom of the stairs were dead before they even realized what was happening, and their departure was marked by a web-trail of blood against the whitewashed stone.

From then on, Denlin directed the small group along a complex of side-alleys, then down into a passage leading under the city towards Caveside, and all the time they could hear the crowds shouting in anger above them, a thousand feet thundering on a trail of devastation.

At one point Eir dropped her sword and staggered against the wall and began to cry. Randur held her in the darkness. ‘What’s wrong?’ he asked soothingly.

‘I helped kill… I’ve never done anything like that.’

‘It’s all right.’ He’d been stupid to expect she could just take someone’s life like that, without feeling anything. Denlin was just about apparent in this darkness, but the old man seemed patient and understanding. Rika was close but silent.

‘You were saving your own life,’ Randur whispered to her, pulling her closer to him, then helping her to her feet. ‘You had no choice. I promise you that when we’re out of here, you’ll be fine. You’ll be fine.’ It wasn’t a good time to tell her that she might never get over it, but she would have to block it out or they would be hunted down and slaughtered. She cried into his shoulder for several minutes whilst Denlin marched back along their route to check if they were being pursued. When Eir had calmed herself and he could feel the tension released from her body, she apologized. ‘I’m being so ridiculous. Now isn’t the time.’

‘You’re just being human.’ Randur repeated over and over that she would be back to normal as soon as she was out of the city, and that she had to put it out of her mind. All the time praying that sometime soon she might begin to believe the lie herself.

On and on, through passageways and down steps that had become so worn they were rounded treacherously at the edges. Ancient, ancient corridors.

Denlin was relying on memory to guide them. Randur wasn’t so sure of the reliability of that, but the old man had surprised him more than once. They trudged for the best part of an hour in near-darkness – and in silence, so they could hear if anyone was approaching.

Eventually: the sound of water.

‘Are we close now?’ Randur enquired.

Denlin said ‘Yep’ with satisfaction.

Eventually, bits of daylight pooled in patches, as the rock around them changed texture, and the familiar smells of Caveside became intense.

‘This is it,’ Denlin announced in triumph.

Eir said, ‘Won’t they be out looking for us?’

‘Probably,’ Randur replied, ‘but down here is unlikely. Anyway, with all those opportunities for looting above, I think we’ll find Caveside is almost empty.’

Rika interrupted, ‘So we’ve come so far – how do we proceed?’

Denlin beckoned, ‘Follow me.’

Down further hidden alleyways and along backstreets which few knew of, even in Caveside. In his heightened paranoia, the shadows moved like live things. Cats craned their heads in curiosity, leaping from wall to wall in the darkness. Randur noticed how Denlin constantly looked this way and that, and he wondered if the old man was thinking how he might never see these familiar streets again.

The Garuda’s Head was unusually closed, a man slumped in front of it, either asleep or unconscious.

‘Wait here,’ Randur instructed the women. Eir drew her sword just in case.

The two men walked around the back of the bar, then returned with Randur’s bags, and a replacement quiver of arrows.

From one bag, Randur dug out some female garments. ‘Bit more stylish and probably warmer than what you’ve got on.’

‘Thank you,’ Rika said graciously, as she and her sister began pulling on layers of clothing. Randur and Denlin kept a look-out. It was strange to see Caveside so empty.

‘Ready,’ Rika decided at last. ‘I want to tell you how truly grateful we are.’

‘Sure,’ Randur said, thinking that it was only for Eir he was doing this.

‘Pleasure,’ Denlin said. ‘But not over yet. We need to sail through the caves first, and past more military stationed outside. They should be stretched, what with the riots, like, but there’s bound to be a few on watch.’

‘Sail?’ Eir asked.

‘Yep,’ Randur said, ‘the last of our money bought us some kind of boat. It’s no longship like you’re used to, but it’ll get us the hell out of here.’

‘Let’s go then,’ Denlin declared.

Randur hauled the other bag over his shoulder.

‘What else have you got in there?’ Eir said.

‘Just my clothes. Why?’

Eir sighed.

The city docks at the far end of Caveside were crammed with fishing vessels, of every kind, a line of them packed in tight along the harbourside, the only safe getaway route left open for them. Randur had slipped out first in stealth and cut down two of the soldiers on patrol, dragging their bodies into the water. One fisherman turned from fixing his net, saw the incident, then waved casually before ignoring them again.

The small group climbed aboard the small boat that was waiting for them – a fishing boat offering little shelter – then pushed off. Soon the wind blustered through the caves, bringing fresher air with it.

Denlin explained, ‘We’ll all need to row until we can get the sails up.’

It took an immense effort to push their craft through the water.

‘Bit of a step down for an Empress, this,’ Denlin joked.

‘I will do my bit,’ Rika said. ‘I am quite capable of being treated as an equal.’

An arrow pierced the water right beside them. A soldier was firing from a vantage point just ahead and to the left.

‘Get down,’ Randur urged the two women, and ducked down himself.

The old man brought an arrow to docking point and let fly.

It connected with stone. He repeated the action whilst the boat edged forwards. The soldier didn’t dare to return fire whilst Denlin was aiming at him. ‘Good thing I brought so many arrows, but I don’t want to waste them on this bugger.’

Oars split the water, and helped by the current they made progress. Now they were out of view, Denlin picked up his oar to quicken their pace.

No conversation passed between them; they were all preoccupied with a determination to escape.

Ten minutes later and one of the moons became visible, the sounds of rioting became sharper, despite the greater distance. They were outside. Randur opened his bag and pulled out a couple of blankets and offered them to the women. He took time to wrap Eir up snugly, enjoying the moment of intimacy.

‘You not going to wrap me up too, eh?’ Denlin said. ‘I’m old. I feel the cold.’

‘Can we relax yet?’ Randur said.

‘Once the sail’s up.’ Denlin fiddled with ropes and set up a small mast. He unfurled a sail that snagged tight as the wind caught it, and the boat lurched. The oars were pulled in.

Randur sighed physically, and feeling mentally drained he turned to Eir, who nestled into him, her head resting under his chin. He didn’t feel the need to talk right now. All he wanted to do was fall asleep beside her. All that mattered to him now was Eir. And here she was, in his arms, so things were fine.

‘Where to now, then?’ Denlin said, pulling him back to reality.

Randur glanced across at Rika, whose arm rested on the side of the boat as she sat gazing out to sea. She nodded vigorously, then spoke, almost to herself. ‘Villiren. That’s where Commander Lathraea has gone.’

‘Brynd?’ Eir asked, shuffling upright.

‘Yes. My name needs clearing. In fact, both our names do. Chancellor Urtica has corrupted the whole city hierarchy, and now only the commander will believe me – even though the military will serve whoever’s at the top. I just know he’ll believe me, and do what’s right. The last I heard, he was heading for Villiren. We shall find him there, and then he can advise. Ask yourself the question: can we allow Urtica to steal from us the Empire that generations of our family have ruled over? No, I’m still Empress, so it’s my duty to resist him, and this is only the start of things. We can’t do that from here, as we are clearly going to be outnumbered. So we need to go to Villiren.’