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That was why their enemies, instead of ambushing them at their camp, were eventually forced to descend on them raggedly as they progressed.

The three of them had been moving along a lightly wooded track between two hills, when Che called out the warning, her own eyes better in the dark than either of the Wasps’. A moment later, there were forms gliding down around them, half a dozen, and then more. Thalric had his sword out, his offhand extended to sting, and Che had a hand to the hilt of her own blade.

‘All right, what’s this?’ Varmen demanded, with weapon already to hand: a sword longer and heavier than army-issue standard.

‘Give me a lantern!’ someone snarled, and one of the figures produced a rush-light from beneath a cover, lending a faint illumination to their surroundings. The newcomers were mostly Dragonflies, partly armoured in their borrowed black and gold. Standingbetween,andalittlebehindtwoofthem,wasthespeaker: a Wasp-kinden, not Aarth but the slaver at the Wayhouse.

Thalric made a quick count and found eight Commonwealers gathered in a loose half circle around them. Most of them carried spears, but a couple had bows with arrows to the string.

‘Your name’s Varmen, no?’ the slaver asked.

‘I owe you money?’ the big Wasp asked. ‘I don’t know your face.’

‘No need to worry yourself. I don’t want you. You can just take off,’ the slaver told him.

‘Is that so?’ Varmen said, looking round at all the Dragonfly-kinden. ‘Kind of you.’

Thalric was not sure what he had expected from Varmen, but when the big man grabbed his beetle’s halter and just backed off into the trees he found he was not overly disappointed. Che obviously had possessed more faith in their guide, for she shouted after him vainly, even as a curtain of driving snow took him from view, and then rounded furiously on the slaver.

‘What do you want with us?’ she demanded. Her own sword was out now, a short Collegium piece.

‘With you, nothing. Go follow your man there, if you wish,’ the slaver replied.

‘I don’t wish.’ She stood closer to Thalric, despite the odds. Just then, he could have wished for her to take the man’s offer, because he was faster than she was, both on the ground and in the air, and protecting her would get him killed all the sooner. Still, the odds were hardly favourable even without her.

‘What’s this?’ he asked them. ‘Who are you?’

‘Captain Halter, at your service.’

There was an awkward pause, because clearly the man expected his name to mean something, but Thalric could not place it.

‘I don’t know you . . .’

‘No?’ Halter’s face betrayed a twitch of annoyance. ‘But I recall you, Major, or your description at least.’

This use of Thalric’s old rank sent a dangerous jolt through him. This may suddenly become worse than I thought.

‘I wasn’t always the man of means you see before you,’ Halter continued, clearly delighting in having a captive audience. ‘I used to be a very lowly man indeed. But not entirely abandoned: I still got the lists.’

Thalric stared at him. ‘You’re not serious.’

‘I used to spend a lot of time memorizing those lists,’ Halter explained, positively beaming over his own cleverness. ‘We got plenty of fugitives coming through the Principalities. It was one of the few ways I could really attract my superiors’ notice, by turning in a few decent traitors. Names and descriptions, I memorized every one. Used to recite them to myself before I slept, most nights.’

‘I don’t know who you think I am,’ Thalric started. ‘My name’s—’

‘Aulric, you told the merchant,’ Halter finished for him. ‘So he told me, but I remember a man who matches your description nicely – a man who was right near the top of those lists, not so long ago.’

‘Listen, I’m not—’

‘Then you won’t mind stripping off and letting me and my lads look at your scars,’ Halter proposed, leering. ‘You see, Sergeant Aulric, this Thalric I remember had picked up a big old scar running from his navel to just about his knee. The description was very specific.’

‘Those lists . . . they must be years old, though.’

‘Oh,