But rather than humanizing him as she might have expected, the change only made Arlen stand out more, the hundreds of intricate wards on his neck and shaved head marking him in ways the Tender’s robes and hood had kept hidden.

A step behind him stood the one Darsy had spoken of. Renna Tanner. His promised. Leesha scanned her critically, but the young woman’s looks were so outlandish she was nearly impossible to judge. She was perhaps in her early twenties, her hair roughly hewn on top with a long, thick braid hanging down her back. She was barely clad, wearing only a tight vest and a rough homespun skirt slit almost to the waist on either side. At her belt was a heavy knife, a leather pouch, and a long beaded necklace. Like Arlen, she was covered from head to toe in wards, though they had the faded look of blackstem about them rather than true tattoos.

Corespawn him, Leesha thought. This after making me swear an oath not to do the same.

‘What makes you think you have a right to tell me who I will or will not marry?’ she demanded as Arlen approached her.

‘Know your prospective bridegroom a lot better than you,’ Arlen said. ‘You were gone much longer, I was coming to save you.’

Leesha felt another flare of anger and didn’t bother to hide it. ‘I didn’t need saving.’

‘This time,’ Arlen said. ‘Don’t be fooled by the silk pillows and fancy manners. Krasians come to you with smiles, but there are fangs beneath. Ahmann Jardir most of all.’

‘Who are you, to speak so familiarly of my holy father?’ Amanvah demanded.

Arlen turned to the dama’ting, dipping a shallow bow and switching smoothly to Krasian so flawless he sounded like a native. ‘He is my ajin’pal. I am Arlen asu Jeph am’Bales am’Brook, known to your people as …’

‘Par’chin!’ Kaval growled. He turned to Coliv and made a quick gesture across his throat.

The Watcher reacted instantly, reaching into his black robes and flinging out an arm, sending a spray of sharpened metal triangles flying at Arlen. Leesha feared he would be killed, but Arlen didn’t even flinch or step aside. His arm was a blur as he batted the spinning blades away as easily as leaves borne on a gentle breeze. They clattered to the ground harmlessly, but the drillmaster and Watcher were already moving to attack him from opposite flanks. Both had produced hidden weapons – Coliv a sickle with a long, weighted chain attached, and Kaval two short staves.

‘I taught you to fight, Par’chin,’ Kaval said. ‘Do you honestly think yourself the match of true Sharum?’

Arlen smiled as he set his feet in a fighting stance. ‘I’ve come a long way since the last time you and Coliv tried to murder me, Drillmaster. And you had more men then.’

Murder? Leesha thought, but before the full weight of it sank in, Coliv hurled the weighted end of his chain at Arlen from behind. It wrapped around one of Arlen’s wrists, but Arlen grabbed it and yanked hard, pulling Coliv off balance. Kaval attempted to use the distraction to launch his own attack, spinning the staves in a blur of motion, but Arlen had grabbed a length of chain in his free hand, pulling it taut to block the first two blows. The third he caught fast in a twist of chain and heel-kicked the drillmaster onto his back.

Leesha heard ribs crack with the blow, but the drillmaster rolled to his feet instantly, tossing the remaining staff to his left hand as he pulled a knife with his right.

‘Stop this madness!’ Leesha shouted, but no one was listening. Thamos’ guards looked ready to intervene, but the count gave no command, watching the battle with great interest. Gared and Wonda, too, looked on in dumbfounded amazement.

Coliv had managed to keep his feet, detaching the sickle from its chain and using a short punch-dagger in his free hand. His attacks were quick and precise, full of feints and reversals, but Arlen blocked them casually, toying with him as Kaval moved back into the fight, knife leading for Arlen’s back.

Renna rushed to stop him, but she passed too close to Amanvah, and Enkido moved to intercept her. He grabbed at her but she was too quick, slipping out of reach then coming back in fast with a roundhouse kick that connected solidly with his solar plexus.

The eunuch made no sound and never lost control, rolling with the blow and spinning to place himself back-to-back with her. He caught her trailing braid and pulled it hard over his shoulder.

Leesha thought the fight would end there, but the young woman surprised her, springing with the pull to somersault right over the eunuch, placing them face-to-face again as she punched him in the gut.

This time Enkido gave a slight grunt, but he did not release his grip on her braid, yanking her head into his fist, sending a spray of blood from her mouth. Before she could recover, he stabbed stiffened fingers into a nerve cluster that collapsed her leg. He caught her wrists and twisted hard, forcing her down to one knee.

Both Leesha and Enkido thought it done, but Renna Tanner was full of surprises. She let out a feral growl, arresting her downward momentum. Leesha would have sworn she would not be able to use her leg again for several minutes and Enkido outweighed her more than twice over, but, gritting her teeth, Renna slowly forced herself to her feet against his straining muscles. The eunuch’s cold eyes widened in disbelief as their positions reversed and he was the one forced back, his spine bending like a bow and his legs quivering with strain.

She has powers in daylight, Leesha realized. Like Arlen.

Suddenly Renna twisted her arms, easily breaking Enkido’s grip on her wrists. She caught one of his, so thick her hand could not close even halfway, and yanked the man towards her, grabbing his belt. The eunuch landed a few more flailing blows as she lifted him clear over her head, but the girl ignored them, hurling him across the room to smash through one of the wood-panelled walls. Dazed, he struggled to rise from the wreckage.

The battle between Arlen and the Sharum continued to rage. Kaval and Coliv attacked as fiercely as Leesha had ever seen, but Arlen dodged and blocked easily, his expression one of calm focus. Occasionally, he returned a blow, simply to show he could do so with impunity. He took the knife from Kaval, slapping the drillmaster on the side of his head with the flat of the blade, knocking him into Coliv. When the Watcher next came at him, there was a brief tussle that ended with Coliv’s own punch-dagger stuck in his buttock as Arlen danced out of reach.

Leesha didn’t pretend to understand how warriors thought, but she knew enough of Krasian culture to understand that Arlen was intentionally humiliating the men. To charge into battle against a more powerful foe and be killed with honour was the dream of every warrior. But to be defeated and survive was the stuff of nightmares. She could feel the shame and helpless rage radiating off them, and felt almost pity.

Almost.

But they had tried to murder Arlen. She had it from his lips now, and despite her other doubts, this she knew to be true.

The Painted Man was born on the Krasian desert, four years ago, Arlen had told her, when she asked his age on the road last year.

And the man beneath the wards? Leesha had asked. How old was he when he died?

He was killed, Arlen said, though he had never said by whom.

Leesha watched as Arlen fought the two Sharum, and knew she was looking at two of the killers. Two of the men who had kicked him onto the path that led to the madness of warding his own flesh. Had Ahmann been one as well? Probably, if Abban’s warning had been true.