Femke led the funeral for her brother. The family interred him in a round barrow, in a spot not far from the place he died. They were devastated, but proud of his achievements, and that he had died defending his family, and farm.

  It was only afterwards that Ashlyn was able to get some time alone with Christoph. ‘I’m so sorry.’

  ‘Don’t be. If you hadn’t arrived, we’d likely all be dead.’ He gave her a puzzled look. ‘I thought we agreed you weren’t coming with me?’

  She smiled. ‘You didn’t really expect me to let you do it alone, did you?’ Her smile faltered when she saw his expression.

  Christoph stared at the ground, as if it was too painful to look at her any longer.

  ‘You’re staying here,’ she said. ‘I understand.’ She’d seen his mother and sisters clinging to him in the last couple of days. ‘Your family needs you.’ They’re lucky to have you.

  He forced himself to raise his eyes. There were tears in them. ‘You could stay here with me, you know.’

  Except, she could tell from his voice, he knew she couldn’t. ‘I have to do this, Christoph. I couldn’t be happy here. It’s hard to explain—’

  ‘You think I don’t understand? Especially now?’

  ‘I know you understand,’ Ashlyn said. She leant into him, and he held her. She couldn’t stop a sob from escaping, her body shaking with it.

  ‘Please don’t get yourself killed, Greenblade,’ he whispered.

  Ashlyn and Izil left as the light faded. It was easy to spot the goblin camp south of the farm. The creatures obviously had nothing and no one to fear, since a hundred fires announced their presence to the rest of Gal’azu.

  ‘We could detour further around them if we head to the river,’ the Alinko warrior suggested.

  Ashlyn shrugged, then tapped the hilt of her sword. ‘If we run into any, we can deal with them.’

  ‘Hmm. Not a whole army of them. But I respect your confidence.’ He watched as she strode through a muddy patch of ground when she could have walked across the rocks on either side. Realisation dawned on his face. ‘You’re making a trail for them to follow.’

  ‘If they start wondering what happened to their missing raiding party, I’d rather they followed us than head to the farm. Got a problem with that?’

  ‘No. I have no problem with dying. I just need Rylan Blair to die first.’

  ‘That’s the plan.’

  Security was tight in and out of Avolo, but when Ashlyn and Izil explained they were members of The Rotten Apples, they were allowed entry. They decided to head straight for The Smashed Marbles.

  ‘Where are Stiff and the others, Murder?’ Ashlyn asked the big man.

  ‘Mada.’

  ‘I had a feeling you were going to say that.’

  Suzie bustled over. ‘You’ve just missed them. Stiff has taken the squad out west, following the goblin army.’

  That was a relief. If the goblins had decamped and marched west, it was less likely they would have sent a second force to the Gerd farm.

  ‘You can probably catch them up,’ the girl added. ‘I think they’re going to need all the help they can get.’

  ‘No doubt. A dozen mercs marching after an army doesn’t make a whole lot of sense. But we’ve got something to do in Avolo first. Where are the Golden Blades likely to be hanging out?’

  ‘Darned if I know. Been busy cooking all night and day for the last week. Bought food for fifteen mercs, and then they all cleared off with no warning.’

  ‘Chances are they’re in The Anchor,’ Izil said. ‘That’s where we used to gather.’

  ‘Then rest up here, enjoy Suzie’s cooking, and I’ll go investigate The Anchor.’

  Izil was quick to anger. ‘Not without me you won’t!’

  Ashlyn gave him a look. ‘The Blairs see you coming, they’ll know what’s up in an instant. They don’t know me.’

  For a brief moment, he looked a little sheepish. ‘Of course. I forgot you weren’t in Urlay with us. When it happened. Fine. But as soon as you find them, come straight back for me. No going it alone.’

  Ashlyn was a bag of nerves when she entered The Anchor. She wasn’t an expert on subterfuge like The Baron. And while all she was doing was going to an inn and ordering a drink—not the most taxing of assignments—she was acutely self conscious. Young women entering such establishments alone did not go unnoticed, which was exactly what she would have wanted.

  She stayed at the bar, eyes fixed on her drink, as if that was the only thing in the world of interest to her. Only after a while, once any interest in her was long gone, did she risk looking about the place. She’d never set eyes on the Blairs, always somewhere else when the confrontations between Blades and Apples had occurred. But she was sure she’d know them when she saw them.

  The place was busy. Avolo had doubled in size recently, while the threat to Gal’azu seemed to have intensified the hedonistic temperament of its citizens. There were many groups the size of the one she was looking for. A lot of them carried weapons. All talked loudly.

  ‘Hello there,’ came a smooth Hargon accent next to her. She looked up to see a striking face, framed by wavy dark hair. The man’s glittering eyes caught hers. He allowed her a few moments to take in all the glorious details, before nodding at her drink. ‘A sweet girl like you drinking ale?’

  Ashlyn felt the stirring of some memory, as if she should know who this was. Someone had told her about him. No one this handsome went through life without comment. But the details wouldn’t come. She played for time. ‘I was brought up on the stuff. Back home.’

  ‘Ah. A Durnost girl. From somewhere up north, by your accent.’

  ‘Very good.’

  ‘Rake!’ came a voice.

  The man’s face dropped, like a cat watching its bowl of cream getting taken away. With reluctance, he turned from Ashlyn to a second man approaching them. This one was more ordinary looking in every way. Yet he carried an air of authority about him.

  ‘Follow him, will you?’ He gestured towards a third figure, rolling towards the exit. ‘It’s not safe for him to go alone, and I’ve things to do.’ His eyes darted to Ashlyn, giving her only the briefest examination. ‘You can work on your next conquest afterwards.’

  Ashlyn went cold. She knew this arrogant bastard was Salvador Blair. The man leaving The Anchor was Rylan. And the handsome one? It clicked into place. Rake. Femke and Mila had told her about their mission to Dorwich. They’d rescued a rich girl who’d fallen for one of the Blades’ mercs.

  Her hand went to the hilt of Greenblade. She forced herself to stop. Draw on them here and now, and she wouldn’t stand a chance.

  She could tell Rake was displeased with his orders. But he followed them, heading for the exit. He refused to even look at Ashlyn, as if he felt humiliated by the encounter.

  Sal Blair gave Ashlyn a last, disinterested glare, before retreating into the throng of drinkers.

  Ashlyn watched Rake leave The Anchor as her mind whirled, trying to catch up with the speed of events. You can’t just stand here, she berated herself. She made her decision, heading towards the exit.

  Rake was moving fast to catch up to Rylan Blair, who was toddling down a side street. Ashlyn followed at the same pace. Not long after the two mercs joined up, they came to a stop outside an unremarkable looking house. She managed to overhear the tail end of a conversation.

  ‘—if I was as pretty as you, Raimy, I wouldn’t have the need to pay for it.’

  ‘You’ve more than enough coin to share about.’

  ‘True.’ Rylan patted Molleker on the cheek. ‘Thanks for being my chaperone. I’ll warn you now, you’ll have a long wait out here.’

  ‘Not what I’ve heard.’

  Blair laughed as he pushed open the door and disappeared inside.

  Rake stared back up the street with a sour expression. It changed when he spotted Ashlyn.

  Shit. He’s seen me.

  ‘Girl from Durnost!’ he called out.

  Shit on it. Ashlyn walked towards him, unable to think of any other response.

  ‘I must have made some impression on you to follow me here. Shame I’m on duty, but such is the life of a Golden Blade.’ This last part was said with the expectation that it would impress her. ‘Tell me your name, sweetheart.’

  Ashlyn considered drawing Greenblade on him. A surprise attack might work. More likely, he’d cut her down. Either way, the Blairs would escape justice.

  She racked her brain for a false name. Suddenly, coming up with one single female first name was beyond her.

  ‘Rake!’ came a scream from the top of the street.

  ‘Clara?’ said the merc.

  Yes, Clara, Ashlyn thought. That would have done fine. She turned to see the girl striding towards them, her blonde hair elegantly pinned up.

  ‘I had to see you!’ the girl said. She shot Ashlyn daggers as she passed her, then wrapped her arms around Molleker.

  Ashlyn got a whiff of heady perfume that almost made her wish Clara was clinging to her.

  ‘I’ve been kept busy,’ Rake said apologetically.

  Ashlyn silently thanked Clara for rescuing her. She backed away a few steps before turning for the exit to the street.

  Well, Ashlyn, she told herself. We’ve learned a few things. One of them being that you’re not cut out for cloak and dagger missions.

  Nevertheless, a plan was starting to form.

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