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his coffin were lined with velvet the colour of old blood. Even the hairs which had once grown so abundantly in his ears and nostrils had been skilfully removed.
    There was no mystery surrounding his death, no hint of foul play. His health had been poor in recent years, and the stresses of being a captive king might well have hastened his end.
    I began thinking of my mother. She had died when Richard was born, her frail constitution exhausted by a prolonged and complicated labour. I remember a gentle fair-haired woman who read Grimm’s fairytales to Victoria and me at bedtime, but little else. Far rawer was my loss of my father and Alex and everyone who had perished at Ty Trist.
    ‘He was a brave and honourable man,’ I heard Chicomeztli say. ‘He bore all his difficulties with great dignity and did not compromise his beliefs.’
    ‘You mean he refused to collaborate.’
    It sounded harsh as soon as it was out, but Chicomeztli gave a lop-sided smile and nodded vigorously. ‘Most certainly. He was as difficult as it was his duty to be.’
    I was exhausted and still in some physical discomfort. For the next two days I convalesced in the suite of rooms which had been provided for me in the central pyramid of the administrative complex. Female Aztec servants, silent and courteous, brought me meals, and Victoria visited every day. She had her own suite immediately above mine, with private access between us via the balcony garden.
    I made a swift recovery, and most of my time was taken up with comforting Victoria, who remained anxious.
    ‘What will they do with us, Kate?’ she asked, the first time we were alone together.
    ‘Don’t worry,’ I told her. ‘We won’t be harmed. We would never have been brought here in the first place if they meant to get rid of us.’
    ‘I’m scared.’
    ‘I know. But we mustn’t let them see that.’
    She sat on the bed beside me, holding my hand in hers. ‘I can’t believe Father’s dead.’
    ‘It’s Richard we have to think about now. He’s going to need all our help.’
    But I was, in fact, thinking about Alex, wondering where he might be. It would be difficult, even for someone as resourceful as him, to survive in the wilds of Wales and continue to evade capture. But at least he was still alive.
    ‘You’re not seriously ill, are you?’ Victoria said. ‘I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you.’
    At that moment I decided I wasn’t going to tell her about the baby.
    ‘No,’ I replied. ‘I’m not ill. And I’ve got no intention of abandoning you.’
    She was silent, still anxious.
    ‘What is it?’ I asked.
    ‘Do you think …’ She paused, hesitated. ‘Do you think they still …’
    Again she faltered. I knew what she was trying to say.
    ‘Hush. They’re Catholics. It’s the state religion, you know that. They prepared Father perfectly decently for a Christian burial.’
    ‘But people say—’
    ‘People are always saying things. You can’t believe all you hear.’
    She lay with her head in my lap. Little did she know that I shared similar fears to her, the same fears as all the Aztecs’ enemies.
    Ostensibly we were alone, but it seemed likely that the apartments were monitored with hidden microphones and perhaps even cameras. As I stroked Victoria’s hair, I wondered what kind of eyes and minds might secretly be dwelling on us even at this very moment.

Three
    On the third morning I woke to find Bevan outside in the garden, watering the flowerbeds. I dressed and went outside.
    ‘Good morning,’ I said.
    ‘Up bright and early, aren’t you?’
    He did not look at me. I walked around until I was facing him.
    I hesitated, then said, ‘Bevan, I’m sorry.’
    Water sprinkled my toes, forcing me to step back.
    ‘I shouldn’t have accused you of disloyalty. I was upset. With the killing of the others.’
    ‘Didn’t mess about, did they? I reckon you and your sister were lucky.’
    He continued watering along a row of multicoloured