‘How fast can you open the gate safely? What do you need? Tell us, so we can make plans.’

She jumped up and dashed to her desk. She whipped a sheet of paper towards her, grabbed two pencils, shoved one behind her ear and poised the other. ‘If Q is the flow rate and dt is the time…Hum! Could the debris block the gate? No, its compressive stress is tissue to that force of water…You there! Yes, you. Bring me some more coffee! Where’s my foreman? Asleep? Why? We have work to do! Oh, if Zaza were here we could do this in a couple of days!’

Lightning and I backed off. ‘Thank you,’ he said gratefully.

‘I’m just trying to keep her occupied. We don’t have sufficient troops to reach the winch tower anyway.’

He nodded. ‘I know. We’re stranded here, Jant, for now. But at least we’re stranded with the largest store of arrows in western Lowespass.’

I noticed Kestrel Altergate at the far end of the room, trying to help a field surgeon without actually touching his patient. ‘Just make sure Frost sleeps at some point, and keep those bloody reporters away from her.’

One of Lightning’s wardens called from the spiral stairs. Lightning raised a hand in acknowledgement and said, ‘I have to organise the archers on the towers. Please bring us some instruction from the Emperor.’

‘I will.’

‘I hope San knows what to do, because I fear I don’t…Jant, did you find Cyan in Hacilith?’

‘Er. Yes.’

‘Wonderful! Well?’ Lightning glanced to the Zascai clamouring for his attention. The bolder ones were beginning to approach. ‘Is she safe?’

‘She’s safe now,’ I said.

‘Now? She wasn’t safe before?’

‘She was safe before and she’s safe now.’ But not during the time in between, I thought. Lightning gave me an urgent look, but I met his gaze. ‘Rayne is bringing her here. They’ll arrive in a couple of days.’

‘Good. Thank you, Jant…’ I could see Lightning wanted to ask me more but the Zascai were waiting. He fidgeted with the scar on his palm, then he nodded and went back to issuing commands.

Wrenn beckoned to me. ‘When you see the Emperor, tell him that all our fyrd are knackered and scared stiff. The Cook said that he’ll try to resume the wagon train, with extra outriders for protection, or we’ll soon run out of food. I don’t want to have to chew gum and tighten my belt until new supplies arrive.’

Wrenn pressed the clips to release his plates with a click; gorget, breastplate, faulds, and placed them on the floor. He was so hot his feathers stood up like needles on a pine branch, to let the heat escape. A few detached ones floated down. Wings don’t perspire, but everywhere else his undershirt had brown tide marks and with the sweat of his latest exertion it stank.

He said, ‘These clips don’t last long. I have to keep threading on new ones. God, that’s better. I feel much lighter now.’

His armour was state of the art, top of the range. I cast an envious eye over it. ‘Nice gear.’

‘Isn’t it? Check out Sanguin.’ He passed me his broadsword.

‘Very nice.’

‘You can see the temper line and everything.’

I tilted the blade to see its etched arabesques and the name in a flowing Awian script.

Wrenn took his helmet on his knee and picked at the lining, then undid the finger-screws that held its bedraggled crest in place. He slid the crest out of its runners and began to wipe mud off it with his sleeve. ‘It’s a quagmire out there. And my arms are covered in bruises from lugging those fucking shields.’ He looked at my bandages. ‘What happened to you?’

‘I crash-landed.’

‘Did you? Armour, Jant; get yourself some of this.’

‘I can’t fly in harness.’

‘Wear something on your arms at least.’ He grinned. ‘What do you think you are, bloody immortal?’

I picked up one of his mirror-finish arm plates from the floor and turned it over. Its canvas straps were hidden underneath it and woven through with steel wire resistant to Insect jaws. The straps had metal spring clips-they could be unfastened in a second if something did go wrong, and they were all easily reachable. Wrenn could don full harness in minutes.

He nodded at it. ‘You should ask Sleat to make you some. It’s much better than that old crap scale you wear.’

‘Show me,’ I said.

He took off a greave and ran his finger inside it. ‘Well, it’s lightweight. Feel that. My breast and back plates are thinner than the ones for my arms and legs. Chain mail strips sit under every joint-elbows, waist, knees-they don’t add much weight but no claw is going to find its way in there. And see the little holes?’ He ran his finger along a line of perforations. ‘They make it lighter still, but they’re to let the air breathe. It doesn’t collect sweat and rust and I can wear it all day without overheating. Not like old lancers’ armour.’

It was the highest-quality steel with the sunburst inlaid in orpiment yellow. I ran my thumb over the smooth embossing and Wrenn chuckled. ‘Decoration won’t save your life. Look here-all the plates are straight-edged and tapered. Mandibles won’t find purchase on that. There’s deep fluting along every plate-no jaws will be strong enough to crush that much reinforcement. Sleat’s proved it in trials. Best of all, there are no small pieces for the bastards to grab-the elbow couters are attached to the vambraces and the besagews aren’t discs hanging loose, they’re part of the breastplate, see?’

‘Is this Morenzian?’ All human armour was adaptable to Awians these days but sometimes the added pieces were unreliable.

‘Sleat extended the pauldrons for me and I tuck my wings under them. He can do the same for you. He took my measurements when I joined the Circle. He made exactly what I wanted.’

‘Sleat custom-forges armour for every new Eszai,’ I said.

‘He made me a whole garniture suite.’

‘Really?’

‘Yes. All interchangeable plates, for all purposes and the decoration matches. I wear this to joust; I just change the breastplate for one with a lance stop, and I have a closed-visor bascinet with a crest instead of this light casque.’

‘Clever.’

‘Oh, and I have a matching surcoat too. I don’t want to joust in bare Insect-fighting steel when there are ladies watching.’

‘Frost is a keen jousting supporter,’ I said. ‘You should talk to her about it and help calm her a little. She remembers all Hayl’s scores.’

‘At the moment I’d rather not.’ He began unhooking the leather spats stretched over his feet to prevent mud working in between the joints. ‘These are the only thing I have a problem with. Leather never lasts long in a bout with an Insect-I might as well wrap myself in bacon.’

Lightning yelled from across the hall, ‘Jant! Are you going to the Castle or are you going to wait until we’ve all been eaten?’

‘Damn,’ I said. ‘I’d better go. See you in a few days.’

‘Bye.’ Wrenn attended to replacing the madder-red crest on his helmet. His plumes were an Awian symbol of bravery and he must have bought them at market, moulted by a girl whose feathers were so beautiful she could sell them. They couldn’t have been keepsakes from lovers, because Wrenn was enjoying being single far too much. Only one clever lass has come close to snaring him; she was an ardent swordswoman and applied to be taught by him, but when their conversation never turned on anything but swordplay even her patience wore thin.

I walked out to the square and climbed up to the hall roof, dwelling enviously on Wrenn’s armour. I wanted some. I thought, we have come a long way since the year 430 when Morenzians started sewing thick metal plates onto clothes. Insects’ carapaces are the optimal natural armour and we have learnt from them how to give ourselves the best possible exoskeletons.

I stood on the ridge, watching Insects descending on the town. I ducked as one buzzed overhead, blotting out the rising sun, and waited for a clear space when it would be safe to take off.