Chapter 4I struck a south-westerly course across the moor, hoping to avoid riding right into the masked faces of the cavaliers. Thankfully, we were accosted by no one throughout the journey and encountered no sign of our former attackers or of any other ill-meaning strangers. Reaching the grounds of the prefect’s house, we encountered Citizen Lanyon, who approached us in a state of disciplined though unmistakable consternation. That did little enough for my former optimism, which was promptly demolished as he spoke:
“Thank the heavens... but where in Hel’s name have you been, Chandry? They couldn’t say whether or not you’d been done for.”
Rather than answer, I urgently enquired what he meant by that last distressing comment. It seemed that in the time since I had ridden away wounded from
