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lying.
    It’s hard to describe my sense of relief at Kest’s arrival. He was my best friend and the deadliest fighter I’d ever known, and with him and Brasti at my side I felt as if the mists were about to fade. Together we could deal with Trin’s men. We could find Aline.
    Another figure emerged from the mist. ‘You!’ he called out, and as he came closer I was able to recognise him as one of the Tailor’s Greatcoats. His face suddenly became deathly pale and I realised that Kest, Brasti, Valiana and I all had our weapons pointed at him.
    ‘Come with me,’ he said, doing an impressive job of mastering himself. ‘The Tailor wants you.’
    ‘Where?’
    ‘To the horses – the rest of Trin’s Knights have fled and they’ve taken Aline.’

Chapter Four
     
    The Deception
     
    In the few minutes it took us to reach the far end of the village, most of the grey-black fog had dissipated, as if the nightmist itself knew that its mission was complete. All that was left were a few wispy tendrils of smoke that made my lungs burn and the chaos that invariably follows a battle.
    Bodies were lying scattered along the village paths. I counted four fallen Greatcoats and nearly twenty-five of Trin’s Knights, but both sides were vastly outnumbered by the men from the village. Those who’d betrayed us had ended up trapped in the very fog they’d helped to create, caught between two fighting forces. The ground was littered with their bodies. Some were injured, crying out for help; a precious few still had enough strength to provide aid to those less able. But most were dying, or already dead.
    I found the Tailor surrounded by a dozen of her Greatcoats, a hundred yards from the rows of uneven posts where our horses were tethered. She wore her own greatcoat and her normally wild grey hair was tied back. Her eyes were bright and clear and she looked like a battle-hardened general rather than the enigmatic, bellicose tailor I’d known for so many years. There was no trace of urgency in her expression, nor in her men’s faces, and when I looked at the horses I noticed that none of them were saddled.
    ‘What in all the hells are you doing just standing here?’ I demanded. ‘Do you have any—?’
    ‘Wait,’ the Tailor said, holding up a hand to keep me silent.
    ‘Are you mad? They’ve got Aline!’ I started to push past her to get to the horses. Two of her Greatcoats stepped out in front to block my way, their hands on their weapons, and Kest and Brasti took up positions on either side of me. I turned back to the Tailor. ‘Would you try and stop me from rescuing the King’s heir? Your own granddaughter?’
    ‘I haven’t forgotten who she is,’ the Tailor said, her gaze moving to the village men nearby. ‘We have a plan and we’re going to follow it.’
    The calm in her voice – the utter lack of any sign that she shared the panic that was seizing me – made it difficult for me to keep my temper. It made it impossible for Brasti.
    ‘I have a thought,’ he said. ‘How about we beat your men senseless, get on our horses, save the girl, and then you can tell us all about your little plan when we get back?’
    She looked at the three of us with a kind of disdain that I hadn’t seen before, like a teacher who’s had enough of coddling a feeble-minded student. ‘Hold your tongue and come with me,’ she said. The iron in her voice brooked no dissent.
    ‘To the hells with that,’ Brasti said. ‘Come on, Falcio, let’s teach these fops in black leather why real Greatcoats don’t bow to anyone.’
    I wanted to, the Gods know how much I longed to. The Tailor needed to understand that even if she did rule her own little army of men and women who looked like Greatcoats and called themselves Greatcoats, yet behaved more like soldiers and spies than magistrates, she didn’t rule us. But something in her expression gave me pause. She knew something I didn’t.
    ‘We’ll come,’ I said to her, ‘but you’d best