Edeard had sat through the two days (two entire days!) of talks with Julan's household staff arranging such things. Given his profound ignorance in such matters his input was minimal, but still he had to be in the room where a dizzily happy Kristabel chattered endlessly with her housekeeper and stylists of the merits of various fabrics. For, given how important these events were, you had to dress correctly for them. In Kristabel's case it meant an entire new collection of evening gowns and a whole 'engagement wardrobe'; while the rest of her family started commissioning new robes and fashionable suits. Edeard was taken to one of the rooms on the seventh floor, where a tailor who specialized in dressing militia officers was summoned to produce a set of constable uniforms made from cloth more fitting to someone of his new 'status' — he was already dreading the day they'd arrive and he'd have to wear them at Jeavons station.

Once the engagement party was over, preparations for the actual marriage ceremony could legitimately begin. Between then and now, the happy couple would be receiving invitations to parties and civic galas which they would have to attend. A lot of invitations. And Uncle Lorin was to be their official chaperone at such events.

Finitan laughed at Edeard's broken expression. 'So, thought of eloping, yet?

'Certainly not, Edeard said loyally.

Finitan just laughed louder. 'Now you know how I feel about all the speeches I have to deliver. I'm addressing the Chemistry Guild apprentices this evening in the hope of a few votes cast my way. Will you be attending?

'Kristabel's expecting me; I have to help her select the music for our engagement party.

'That's nice. Do you know many songs?

'Only Dybal's, he confessed.

Finitan laughed again. A couple of ge-chimps scurried in through their little doorways in the bookshelf walls, bringing trays laden with tea and biscuits. Edeard eyed the brandysnaps and chocolate chip shortbreads keenly. He'd never found the bakery which supplied the Blue Tower, but Finitan always had the best biscuits in Makkathran. The main door opened behind him.

'I'm sure you remember Master Topar? Finitan said lightly.

Edeard couldn't recall meeting Topar since his first day in the city, which now he thought about it was odd since Topar was Finitan's deputy. And looking at the figure walking across the office, he was surprised by the Master's appearance. Gone was the overweight frame. He looked a lot leaner, but not necessarily healthy with it. His face was haggard, the full chubby cheeks given way to deep worry creases in loose flesh, while his eyes seemed bruised. He still wore expensive clothes, a silk shirt and suede trousers, high black boots, and the traditional Master's cloak, but even they couldn't cover the fact that he'd undergone a time of considerable hardship.

'Master, Edeard bowed.

'You've been making quite a name for yourself while I was away, so I'm told, Topar said in his powerful baritone — that at least remained the same.

Edeard shrugged.

'How little any of us knew the day we arranged for you to join the constables, Topar continued.

'Sir?

'I apologize, Waterwalker, I'm blaming the messenger. It's not been a pleasant time for me.

The three of them sat down as the ge-chimps handed out the elegant china cups.

'Partly my fault, Finitan said. 'But you did come to us with an incredible story, Edeard. Ordinarily I confess I would have paid little heed to it: a lad from the provinces exaggerating a few brawls, seeking sympathy to gain entrance to the Guild. However, I found you pleasingly guileless; and Akeem chose you as his apprentice which really told me all I needed to know.

'I don't understand, Edeard said.

'The weapon, Finitan said softly. His third hand opened u drawer on his desk, and lifted out a package of leather wrapping. It drifted through the air to finish on the desktop.

Edeard froze as his farsight probed the contents. 'Oh my Lady, he moaned. It was a repeat-fire gun.

Finitan's third hand unwrapped the package gingerly. Edeard gazed at the thing with utter loathing. The metal was tarnished, with ingrained rust corroding several areas, and the magazine had received several dents, but he would recognize the evil device to his dying day. 'Where did you get it?

'Where you left it, Topar said. 'At the bottom of the new well in Ashwell.

'Huh?

'That's where I've been, and as you know it's not an easy journey at the best of times. I only returned last night.

'You've been to Ashwell? Edeard thought he was over his life in the village with all its lost inhabitants, he really did, but staring at someone else who'd seen those forlorn ruins was triggering an avalanche of memories.

'I sent Master Topar to try and confirm your story, Finitan said. 'Which, I'm afraid, he has done in no uncertain terms.

'It was all as you described it, Topar said. 'The weeds and moss have grown over the rubble, of course; but I knew Ashwell as soon as I saw it. The cliffs, the old rampart wall around. Even the well shaft you hid in was easy to locate; though it was mostly full of mud. How you moved that capping stone is a mystery to me. It took us a day to break it up and move the pieces away; then it was another week excavating the mud before we could recover the gun. He gave the weapon on the desk a scowl.

'So now what? Edeard asked.

'Now we've established the gun is real we need to know about those bandits, Finitan said. 'If that's what they truly are. What can you tell us about their leader? You said you spoke with him.

'All I can tell you is his anger. He hated me because I'd killed his kindred in their ambush.

'Is that what he said?

Edeard struggled to remember. It wasn't easy; for so long now he'd been trying to banish this very memory. 'Friends. That's what it was, he called them: our friends. I was to die because of what I'd done to our friends. Yes.

'Interesting, Finitan said. 'And how long between the ambush in the wood and the raid on your village?

'Not quite a year.

'So it wasn't an instinctive hot-headed response, then? They'd planned it out.

Edeard nodded, hanging on to the memory no matter the pain. 'They knew us. They knew Salrana. The one from the church, that's what he said. I suppose they must have been watching us. I never considered that before.

'Then they were organized?

'Yes.

'Hardly the kind of raid I would credit ordinary bandits with.

'Their clothes, Edeard exclaimed. 'The ones in the wood were wild, savages; they daubed themselves with mud, and they didn't even have shoes. But the ones who came to the village wore proper clothes, with boots.

'And they had the repeat-fire gun, Finitan concluded.

'They're not bandits, are they?

'No, not the kind who have always lived around the edge of our society, Finitan agreed. 'Though I suspect they are allied. These are the emissaries of something else entirely.

'What? Edeard asked.

'I don't know. But they are relentless. Finitan gave Topar a small nod.

'There were five in my travelling party, Topar said. 'Only two of us made it back to Makkathran. Edeard, I'm sorry, but the province is all but lost. Eight villages have been overrun, and that was when I left just before New Year. The capital is fortified and afraid, with families leaving every day. Farmers are deserting their land and heading to the eastern provinces. None of the caravans visit any more. Their economy is failing. The neighbouring provinces no longer offer help in any fashion; they are too worried about their own bandit incursions.

Edeard's head sank into his hands. 'Witham? he asked.

'Yes, Topar said. 'It fell not six months after Ashwell. Since then, the raids have increased. It's the same every time, they wipe out the entire village, no one is left alive, the buildings are torched. The senselessness of it all is shocking, they're not doing it for anything other than the pleasure of killing. There's no reason for it.