’Of course, but you may only have stalled the inevitable. She might be right before the general now dobbing us all in!’
Gwilym began to pace back and forth, rubbing his temples with one hand and worrying his beard with the other.
‘We don’t know that,’ Theodora insisted. ‘I asked her to do the right thing and let us get on with our job of hunting Aristotles down.’
‘You asked her to do the right thing? Perhaps you’ve forgotten that she’s a mercenary whose sword and conscience belong to the highest bidder, who at this very moment happens to be this massive hoard of armed and angry soldiers surrounding us!’
Gwilym had stopped his pacing and had squared right up to Theodora, who, holding her ground, stared down imperiously at the angry dwarf. Almar had drawn in closer too, clearly concerned
