“To Hel with your armour, and your tinpot gods,” I said, and was a little gratified to note their expressions of surprise at my lack of reluctance to be rid of the hateful relics. “Have it melted down for all I care. But now that you’ve got that back, I trust you’ll be getting Phoebe and Johan back for us, then I for one will be more than happy to leave you all to your butchery.” It was not, perhaps, the last word in international diplomacy, but it got the point across.
* * * *
Our journey back to the imperial capital was for the most part a brooding and silent affair, with only essential words being exchanged for the sake of keeping us afloat and on course. Since our chief enemy in these parts was now reduced to a heap of dust in some god-forsaken limbo, we relaxed our precautions somew
