Meakin wished he could ask what those rules were.

‘Well, perhaps it’s time to throw out these instructions pertaining to Caldason.’

‘I’ve always believed they should be obeyed, given their source. But the murder of someone of your uncle’s status changes things. I, for one, would be willing to petition our superiors to look at the policy again.’

‘I’m obliged, Commissioner. The lifting of the restrictions would be pleasing to me. It’s just a pity that, if your information’s correct, Caldason’s beyond our present reach.’

‘He might not be.’ Laffon eyed Bastorran.

‘What do you mean?’

‘The rumour I heard. There’s talk of a fleet being sent to the Diamond Isle.’

Bastorran’s eyebrows raised. ‘You’re sure? My information is that Gath Tampoor was holding back in hope of Rintarah dealing with the matter.’

‘My source is good. I can only imagine that Gath Tampoor’s worried about Rintarah getting an edge in that part of the world, and decided they should have a presence there too. No doubt we’ll be informed officially soon, one way or another. Though I have to say it’s a bad time of year for such a venture.’

‘If this is true, the paladins are sure to be represented in the invasion force.’

‘As indeed will the CIS. We suspect there are a number of felons out there of interest to us. Not least the woman I told you about, who’s a known associate of Caldason. We both have scores to settle on that island.’

‘If there’s a reckoning to be had,’ Bastorran declared, expression intense, ‘I want to be there.’

‘You’d go yourself?’

‘Absolutely. I owe my uncle the task of exacting vengeance on his murderer. It’s not something I’d see delegated.’

‘Ah. A matter of family honour.’

‘Family and the clans. A blood debt,’ Bastorran replied coldly.

‘And the opportunity to exact retribution for your own…indisposition at Caldason’s hands.’

Bastorran flashed the Commissioner a hard look. ‘The issue is clan pride, not personal revenge.’

‘Of course, High Chief. But there’s little we can do about the problem just yet. We can, however, continue our purge of the terrorists here.’

‘We’ve broken their backs. It’s only a question of time before we eradicate them entirely.’

‘Perhaps. The rebel movement may be weakened, but it’s still capable of causing havoc. Why, there’s unrest even as we speak, not ten blocks from here.’

Somebody in the crowd threw a device.

Magical munition or conventional bombard, it made little difference to the effect. It fell just short of a line of shield-bearing militia, producing an intense flash, a loud explosion and an eruption of noxious smoke. The cloud dispersed to show several troopers ablaze, their uniforms splattered with glutinous burning oil. Comrades rushed forward to beat at the flames.

The crowd and the militia took to exchanging missiles-rocks, arrows, slingshot and the occasional spear flew. On both sides, men and women fell. Then a trumpet sounded, and as one the lines of militia parted and let through a detachment of charging cavalry. The disturbance was becoming a full-scale riot.

In a room on the upper floor of a nearby house, derelict and half burnt out, two people watched the confrontation. One was Quinn Disgleirio.

He took a peek through the window. ‘That could take some time.’

Dulian Karr sighed and parked himself on a battered wooden crate. ‘At least we were lucky enough to find this place to shelter in. I’ve never seen a conflict blow up so quickly.’

‘We’re living in volatile times. And it’s going to get worse.’

Outside, the sounds of fighting swelled. Screams, shouts and explosions could be heard, backed by the crowd’s constant roar.

‘Is there nothing we can do?’ Karr asked.

‘Only sit it out. I’m beginning to wish I hadn’t agreed to undertake this reconnaissance with you. It’s not as though we’ve gathered intelligence of any real importance.’

‘I’m not dead yet, Quinn. The day I can’t go out on a field trip is the day you can consign me to the Pastures of Sleep for real.’

‘Do you still think we’re right about trying to get more of us out to the island? Rather than staying here and making the best of it, that is?’ said Disglierio.

‘It was always the plan to get as many people over as possible, you know that. If things hadn’t gone so terribly wrong we’d probably be there now.’

‘But circumstances have changed, haven’t they? The gods forgive me for saying it, but the Diamond Isle doesn’t seem so much like a haven now as a rat trap. For all the restrictions here in Bhealfa, at least there’s plenty of scope for hiding and hitting out at the occupiers.’

‘True. But let’s not fool ourselves. The best we can hope for if we stay here is to harass them. For myself, I can see the attraction of making our stand there.’

‘You’re an old romantic, Karr. My ideal would be to stay. But then, I’m a patriot. That’s what the Fellowship of the Righteous Blade’s all about, after all.’

‘Then you’re a romantic yourself, Quinn.’

Disgleirio smiled. ‘Could be. I just hate the idea of surrendering my soil to a foreign power and scuttling off to a run-down pleasure resort.’

‘Don’t tell me you’re thinking of not going?’

‘No. I may be a romantic but I haven’t lost my reason. There’s a chance we could hold out there. And just maybe something will turn up to help us. Don’t ask me what.’

‘If we don’t have hope, we have nothing.’

‘I do worry that we couldn’t possibly get all of our people out there. Choices are going to have to be made, and that seems cruelly unfair.’

‘I know. Decisions of that kind are never easy. But that shouldn’t stop those of us fortunate enough to have the chance.’

‘We’re talking as though reaching the island’s going to be easy. This could all be academic.’

‘It’s a big ocean, Quinn. Short of a complete blockade of the Diamond Isle it’s impossible to close every loophole.’

‘That’s what they’ll do though, isn’t it? Gath Tampoor, or Rintarah. They’ll seal it tight as a drum and-’

‘Perhaps. We have to hope we find a way of preventing that.’

In the streets below the commotion increased again. Karr rose to take a look. The security forces were fighting back with magic, and concentrated energy beams scythed through the crowd. Militia used glamoured stun batons to down protestors, against a background of dazzle charges and concussion rounds.

Karr resumed his seat, shaking his head sadly. ‘It’s not the way the noble art should be used,’ he complained. ‘They debase it.’

‘You sound just like Phoenix. But we do the same whenever we can,’ Disgleirio reminded him.

‘In self-defence. There’s a distinct moral difference involved.’

‘I daresay that’s the way they see it too.’

‘Then they’re barbarians. The occupiers and their collaborators both. They cloak themselves in a mantle of civilisation, but they’re barbaric all the same. That’s another difference, Quinn; between what they say and what they do.’

‘By now you should be used to the way they employ language as a weapon against us. Taking another’s land is liberation. Suppressing the people’s right to speak is freedom. Executing a patriot is an act of public order. And anybody opposing them is a terrorist.’

‘What depresses me is how many believe it. Repeat a lie often enough and it becomes a kind of truth. Couple that with keeping the populace in ignorance and you have a situation where most citizens of the empire are happy to send troops here but couldn’t find Bhealfa on a map.’

‘They don’t need to. They’ve swallowed the oldest propaganda trick in the book. All you have to do is tell people they’re under threat and they’ll let their rulers do anything they want, no matter how draconian,’ Disgleirio said bitterly.

‘And they call magic an arcane art. It’s nothing compared to the subtle craft of deception.’