“I have the option to buy the Crptipa mine from Silas Marn for ten thousand in crown gold. I am debt free and have two thousand to my name.”

“So a man offering you eight thousand more might ask a high price?”

“Yes.”

I left the tower room with a note for eight thousand and an agreement that Garyus would own two-thirds of the mine. As I left I set a black velvet package at the foot of his bed.

“It’s Loki’s key, Great-uncle Garyus. Don’t touch it. It’s made of lies.”

I left then, though he called for me to come back. I ran down the stairs faster than any sensible man would, feeling something new, or at least something I’d not felt for a very long time. Feeling good.

“I’m paying the price for your failings!” The Red Queen thrust me before her and I staggered back as she advanced. “Your duty is to the throne! Your debts are not my concern.” A roar now, her anger loose.

My own anger leapt from my throat before I could cage it. “I was paying your debts, Grandmother!” I halted my retreat. “I gave the key to Garyus. You took his throne. And you.” I pointed without looking to the place where the Silent Sister stood. I could sense her now, like a needle in my flesh. “And you took his strength. I have given him something neither of you can take. You can ask and he may allow because he loves this land and its peoples, but you can’t take. When you put a cripple in a high tower the message is clear enough. A hundred and seven steps are hardly an invitation to the man to join the world! I have put him at the centre of it.” I exhaled and my shoulders went down, the anger gone from me, quicker than it came.

The Red Queen towered before me, sucking in her breath to roar again. But the roar never came. Something in her expression softened, just the smallest bit. “Go,” she said. “We will speak of this another time.” She dismissed me with a wave of her hand, and I turned for the door, willing myself not to run.

I saw the Silent Sister, standing where I had pointed. Rags and skin and glinting eyes. What she thought of the matter I couldn’t tell. She remained as unreadable as algebra.

NINE

I returned to Roma Hall to find my brother Martus in a foul mood, waiting to pounce. “There you are. Where the hell did you vanish off to?” He strode out of an antechamber off the entrance hall.

“I had business with—”

“Well it doesn’t matter. Glad to see you’ve cleaned up. You’re lucky you weren’t shot as a ghoul.”

“A ghoul?”

“Yes, a damn ghoul. You don’t know what’s going on? Where the hell have you been? Under a rock?”

“Well yes, for some of the time. But more recently, Marsail, the Corsair Isles, the Liban desert, and Hell. So what is going on?”

“Trouble! That’s what. Grandmother’s marching the Army of the South off to Slov on some ill-conceived campaign. She doesn’t even care about Slov—it’s some damn witch she’s after. Claims the Slov dukes are harbouring the woman. A whole army! For one woman . . . And the worst of it is my command’s being left here.”

“Yes, that is the worst of it.” I made to walk by. I had an empty stomach and a sudden desire to fill it with something delicious.

“That damn Gregori DeVeer.” Martus stuck a hand out and caught my shoulder, arresting my escape. “His army of foot-sloggers are forming up as the vanguard. He’ll come back a blasted hero. I know it. He’ll be acting this campaign out around the dining table at the officers’ mess for years, lining the grapes up: ‘The Slov line held the ridge’, pushing the cherries in: ‘Our Red March infantry column attacked from the west . . .’. God damn it. And that old woman’s leaving me here to babysit the city.”

“Well. It would be nice if you could keep it in one piece.” I scratched my belly. “But does it really take . . . how many are you?”

“Two thousand men.”

“Two thousand men!” I shrugged his hand off my shoulder. “What are you supposed to be protecting us from? This is Vermillion! Nobody is going to attack us.”

“I just told you what, idiot!”

“You didn’t say—Wait, ghouls?”

“Ghouls, rag-a-maul, corpse-men. We’ve seen them all in the city over the past couple of months. Nothing the guard can’t handle, but it’s made people jumpy. They’re scared enough even with the Army of the South crowding the streets.”

“Well . . . better safe than sorry, I guess. I shall sleep better in someone else’s bed knowing that you’re patrolling the walls, brother.” And with that I turned and set off sharp enough to escape any restraining hand that might come my way.