‘Your words are true,’ she said without inflection. ‘Then why,’ the sapper demanded, ‘didn’t Cotillion reveal himself to us? To Whiskeyjack, to Kalam? To Dujek? Dammit, Dancer knew us all – and if that bastard understood the notion of friendship at all, then those I’ve just mentioned were his friends—’ Apsalar’s sudden laugh rattled both men. ‘I could lie and say he sought to protect you all. Do you really wish the truth, Bridgeburner?’ Fiddler felt himself flushing. ‘I do,’ he growled. ‘Dancer trusted but two men. One was Kellanved. The other was Dassem Ultor, the First Sword. Dassem is dead.
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