'Keep the change/ I murmured.
'Big spender,' she mocked and paced off, wiggling a backside that had no business being wiggled.
I didn't touch the drink. Gradually, the ice melted and the oily liquid began to seep out over the table top.
The hooded figure got up and wandered over to me.
'Rosethorn?'
I looked up. That's me.'
She dropped the hooded cloak away from her shoulders. She had sharp features and long, straight black hair. Her kohl-edged eyes glinted like jade.
Not Harlon Nayl at all. Maria Tarray.
She sat down opposite me and knocked back my drink, licking the ice-water off her long fingers.
'You knew we'd get you sooner or later.'
'I guess so. Who's we?'
The other drinkers in the bar had got up and formed a circle around us, sitting at adjacent tables. Maria Tarray clicked her fingers and they all drew back coats or cloaks to reveal the handguns they carried. She clicked again and the weapons disappeared.
'So this is a trap?'
'Of course.'
The astrograms weren't from Nayl?'
'Evidently'
"You've broken Glossia?'
'How clever are we?'
I sat back. 'How did you do that?'
'Wouldn't you like to know, Mr Eisenhorn?'
I shrugged. 'Seeing as you've got me cold, yes. These men are more of your damned Vessorine, aren't they? I'm dead in my seat. I can't see the harm.'
'I imagine you've guessed already' she said. She smiled. I could feel her powerful mind trying to delve into mine.
'Jekud Vance.'
That's right, Mr Eisenhorn. Your astropath proved to be very useful. With the right persuasion. And the Janissaries excel at persuasion. Vance sent the communiques, pretending to be Nayl. He knew Glossia.'
She probed at my mind again.
You're using shielding techniques,' she said, her face darkening.
'Of course I am. You would be too if the situation was reversed. I have to say though, I'm disappointed. I was hoping mat Pontius might be here himself. This is a trap after all. Eisenhorn's last stand. He might have been civil enough to come and watch me die/
'Pontius is busy elsewhere/ she snapped, and then realised what she'd said.
Thank you for that confirmation/ I said.
'You bastard!' she snapped. You're dead! What good will it do you? This is a trap!'
'Yes, it is. A trap/
She hesitated. The janissaries had all risen, guns out, aiming at me. The bar staff were fleeing, terrified.
Maria Tarray slowly reached out and took the rebreather mask off my face.
'Etrik?' she stammered, her jade eyes wide.
Yes/ I said, three kilometres away in a locked lodging house room, sweating and straining as I channeled my will via the runestaff and animated the body of Clansire Etrik.