preparations to leave, Estrada touched his shoulder. 'You're not going anywhere,' she said softly, 'until I've cleaned and rebandaged your arm. Ointment to hurry the healing and medicine for the pain would be a good idea as well.'
'Marina,' Alvantes replied gruffly, 'there's more at stake here than my discomfort.'
For someone who'd once been romantically entangled with our good lady mayor, I was frequently amazed by how little Alvantes seemed to understand her. I'd recognised her tone, even if he hadn't, and it brooked no argument. 'Perhaps,' she said, 'but there's nothing more important than your ability to lead. These men and everyone in Altapasaeda are relying on you to make the right decisions. If you carry on like this, you'll be in no state to do that.'
'Are you suggesting I haven't made the right decision?'
Estrada sighed heavily. 'What I'm suggesting is that you've recently suffered an appalling injury, lost copious amounts of blood, been through terrible exertion and stress and are in constant pain, and maybe, just maybe, you should address those facts, lest your judgement be clouded or you simply collapse.'
'I've no intention of collapsing,' said Alvantes.
In a flash of inspiration, I said, 'Estrada, why don't Saltlick and I buy medical supplies while you two collect the horses? We can meet where the north road leaves the Suburbs.'
Alvantes looked at me with unveiled suspicion. 'You've got your money back, Damasco. If you want to sneak off then there's nothing to stop you.'
I did my best to look hurt. 'Like I said, I'll meet you on the north road. Weren't you the one who said I ought to be pulling my weight? I can save us time and you'll be a little less likely to pass out on us like an old drunk.'
'Thank you, Easie,' intervened Estrada, 'that sounds like an excellent solution.'
This time, there was no talk of hiding Saltlick. Mounteban knew we were here, and the odds of Navare and the guardsmen staying hidden were greatly improved by his believing we'd left.
None of that made Alvantes any more patient as Saltlick struggled to manoeuvre through the toosmall opening. One slip and he'd likely have removed the entire front wall; if anyone happened to be passing at such an hour, it was a spectacle they couldn't possibly miss.
That suited me. So did Saltlick's company. If Synza was somehow following me, I couldn't think of any discreet ways to assassinate a giant, or to kill someone they were walking beside without said giant noticing. And if we ran into any other of Mounteban's lackeys, they'd be unlikely to know how harmless Saltlick was, or be inclined to tangle with someone fully twice their size.
I bid Navare and the others a brief goodbye and set out in the pre-sunrise gloom. I didn't see anyone in the darkened street. By then, I hardly expected to. Beneath the first grey light of day, it no longer seemed likely that Synza should have spent the night scouring the Suburbs for my trail. Far more probably, he'd returned to Mounteban with a report of how I'd fallen from the walls with a knife wound to the head. He had no reason to assume I'd survived, or even to waste time investigating.
Caught in the rush of the chase, I'd let paranoia get the better of me. Mounteban had once told me, in what seemed a distant other lifetime, that I was only one detail of a bigger picture. That was even truer now than it had been then, and I doubted very much that he'd want his best killer running round needlessly in such a time of crisis.
That said, it was still comforting to walk beside Saltlick, with all the safety his presence implied. Overwhelming pacifism aside, I couldn't have asked for a better bodyguard. By the time I arrived at the small apothecary I'd settled on, I felt considerably less vulnerable than when I'd set out.
The wizened hag who ran the place was just opening up. She greeted my arrival with an unintelligible mumble and a noisy expectoration into the mud. Whether or not that peculiar greeting related to having a giant appear at her doorstep, she didn't seem put off by Saltlick's presence. I hurriedly bought fresh bandages, a pot of pasty green ointment, and a vial of brown ichor that she claimed — as far as I could translate her grunts and mumbles — would alleviate even the worst extremes of pain. On second thoughts, I bought a second vial for myself. Why should Alvantes be the only one free of suffering?
My purchases deposited in my new pack, we set out towards the north road junction. Saltlick and I arrived just as Alvantes and Estrada trotted up from another side road, Estrada leading the horse I'd borrowed when we left the barracks. We greeted each other with silent nods. Even Saltlick sensed the general mood and kept himself to a timid smile.
I handed my purchases to Alvantes and clambered into the saddle. In single file, we made our way out past the scattered border of the Suburbs. As we passed the last tumbledown shack, I couldn't help noticing how Alvantes glanced back towards the distant walls. His expression was grim beyond measure.
Who could blame him? Altapasaeda, Lady of the South, was fallen — and whatever her fate over the next few days, it lay in Mounteban's hands, not his.
CHAPTER FIVE
Our first stop would be Muena Palaiya, Estrada's erstwhile home and seat of mayoral power. In theory, it was three days' easy ride away. In practise, things were likely to prove a little more complicated.
The Sabre and the highway beyond it offered by far the fastest passage northward. Of the many advantages Mounteban possessed in holding Altapasaeda, that might prove most telling in the long term. With the bridge unavailable and the docks closed to traffic, the rest of southern Castoval would soon grind to a halt. Already the river was almost empty of boats, just as the road was clear of wagons.
Our only alternative was to head north-west on this bank and ford the Casto Mara where we could, then travel on through the forest of Paen Acha. Even that would have been simple enough until recently, but the ferry at Casta Canto had fallen victim to our dramatic flight south, and I couldn't imagine they'd returned it to working order in a mere few days.
I had a feeling no one had pointed this out to Alvantes. I was looking forward to the look on his face when he found out. Even if anything that thwarted his plans thwarted mine as well, it would still be entertaining.
However, I soon discovered he had more pressing issues on his mind than our travel plans. We were barely an hour out of Altapasaeda when Alvantes drew his horse alongside mine. 'You remember the giant stronghold?' he asked.
I tried to hide my surprise at so unexpected a question. 'I'm not sure I'd call it a stronghold.'
'I was barely conscious. You saw far more of it than I did.'
'It's a nice place. Are you considering a holiday?'
He ignored me. 'You met other giants there.'
'Plenty of them.'
Alvantes nodded towards Saltlick, who was lumbering a few paces ahead, his relaxed gait more than sufficient to keep pace with our horses. 'Tell me. Are they all like him?'
'Not all. Most of the ones I met were female.'
Alvantes frowned. 'I mean, are they all so… passive? So submissive?'
'I didn't have to break up any fights while I was there, if that's what you mean. What are you driving at?' But I didn't really need to ask. Alvantes had been thinking about the giants waiting ahead. He'd been tormenting himself over his mistress Altapasaeda, currently trolloping herself with another man. Then he'd brought those thoughts together and realised he had the start of an idea.
It wasn't an idea I much liked. The giants had already been abducted once, already forced into violence by Moaradrid. You didn't need to be an expert in giantish culture to realise it ran against everything in their nature. 'Yes,' I said, 'they were all like Saltlick. More so, if anything. The place was a haven of tranquillity. You'd have hated it.'
Alvantes eyed me coldly, as though trying to weigh the truth of what I'd said. 'Maybe they've just never found the right cause,' he observed finally.
Before I could point out that liberating a bunch of spoilt Altapasaedans was probably the least right cause imaginable for giantkind, he spurred his horse forward in a clatter of hooves.
I glared after him, my already doubtful mood entirely soured by the exchange. Casting about for something
