Toller, who had been watching a burial detail gather up Pouksale’s remains, felt a fresh annoyance at the repetition of the indictment and his chiefs complaisance. “You don’t have to keep on blaming our fog, Captain,” he said, giving Sisstt a significant glance. “Nobody in authority is disputing the facts.”

Hlawnvert rounded on him at once. “What do you mean by that?”

Toller produced a slow, amiable smile. “I mean we all got a clear view of what happened.”

“What’s your name, soldier?”

“Toller Maraquine — and I’m not a soldier.”

“You’re not a…” Hlawnvert’s look of anger gave way to one of sly amusement. “What’s this? What have we here?”

Toller remained impassive as the captain’s gaze took in the anomalous aspects of his appearance — the long hair and grey robes of a philosopher combined with the height and blocky musculature of a warrior. His wearing of a sword also set him apart from the rest of his kin. Only the fact that he was free of scars and campaign tattoos distinguished him in physique from a full-blooded member of the military.

He studied Hlawnvert in return, and his antagonism increased as he followed the thought processes so clearly mirrored on the captain’s florid face. Hlawnvert had not been able to disguise his alarm over a possible accusation of negligence, and now he was relieved to find that he was quite secure. A few coarse innuendoes about his challenger’s pedigree were all the defence he needed in the lineage-conscious hierarchy of Kolcorron. His lips twitched as he tried to choose from the wealth of taunts available to him.

Go ahead, Toller thought, projecting the silent message with all the force of his being. Say the words which will end your life.

Hlawnvert hesitated, as though sensing the danger, and again the interplay of his thoughts was clearly visible. He wanted to humiliate and discredit the upstart of dubious ancestry who had dared impugn him, but not if there was serious risk involved. And calling for assistance would be a step towards turning a triviality into a major incident, one which would highlight the very issue he wanted to obscure. At length, having decided on his tactics, he forced a chuckle.