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He stiffened when, with a pitiful sigh, I leaned my full weight against his armoured chest. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Resting. I’m tired, my back is aching, and you can’t feel anything through that steel,’ I said, half-closing my eyes. ‘And I can appear sufficiently frail and avoid being questioned if I do this.’

‘Are all women in Dagome so shrewd or are you the notable exception?’ he asked, nudging his horse into a slow trot.

‘I don’t know all of them, but yeah, most,’ I muttered, pretending to be asleep. ‘Why are we stopping here if you’re worried about the clergy?’

‘The Hierophant changes where he stays almost daily. Only those with the rank of Clericus or above know where he is,’ he answered. I glared at him over my shoulder.

‘You told me he was at the Gate. What game are you playing, Siras?’ I asked angrily. My voice was too quiet for his men to hear, but sharp enough for him to understand I was a hair away from gutting him.

‘No one can be near the Gate for too long, Roksana. It’ll drain you dry, and only the bastard you killed knew how to shut them down,’ he answered, unfazed by my outburst. ‘I need to find out what the fail-safe is. The Hierophant has the original plans and hopefully some answers. So lay your head down and play the captive.’

Half an hour later, we rode through the town gates. They opened with the screeching of rusty wheels.

‘Siras, I didn’t expect you here,’ came an annoyed voice from the side. ‘Weren’t you guarding the Lumivitae Herald? Where is he?’

‘In his castle under the watchful eyes of my men. However, he offers a little gift to the Hierophant, and I want to deliver it personally to his reverence.’ Siras’ answer was drowned out by the menacing laughter of the other man.

‘You sneaky bastard. Is being a Prefect not enough? Do you think if you keep bringing gifts, he’ll make you a Legatus?’ The man sneered, and I pried my eyes open to study him from under my eyelashes. He was old, with skin weathered like dry parchment, his eyes close-set and beady. He stank of mould. I could smell it even from horseback.

‘That’s for the Hierophant to decide. Where is he now?’ Siras asked.

‘On the way to the Tivalaran Castle. He’ll be passing through Piran’s Swamp by now. Our armada has landed, but they’ve been less welcoming than we hoped. He wants to settle the matter to properly welcome the King of Dagome,’ the Clericus said with vicious glee.

‘Perfect. Then my gift arrives just in time.’ Siras nudged the horse, forcing the clergyman aside. ‘Please excuse me, Your Grace. We have a long way ahead of us and little time to rest. Besides, this woman needs food to stay alive.’

I didn’t like how the other man’s eyes lingered, but soon we were in a tavern with decent food, and I forgot about it.

Siras decided I would sleep in his room, and I nestled near the fireplace, too tired to protest my meagre accommodations.

I was staring at the flames when Siras’ voice reached me. ‘Sleep, Roksana, we ride before dawn.’

‘Why so early?’ I asked because it left us, at best, a few hours’ sleep.

‘That bastard may have recognised you. Even if he didn’t, he’ll want for himself whatever glory he thinks I’m seeking. After all, we each need merits to establish ourselves in this new land,’ Siras spat.

My thoughts drifted to Rey. He should be somewhere near Tivalaran. If so, maybe I could send him a message. I was sure the Prefect wouldn’t mind me using the resources of this damp kingdom.

I looked at Siras and smiled as if I agreed with every word.

‘Where’s the bath chamber?’