‘You won. Barely. It was stupid, but impressive. He was fast, that one. Damned fast. You have all the time you need to recover. We’re guests of the Silent People now.’

‘I see. Well, if you don’t mind I’ll pass out again.’

‘Go ahead.’

It was night when he opened his eyes once more. He tried to rise and failed when agony shot up his side. He relaxed back on to the blankets. In the morning Lyan spooned him a mush of boiled vegetables and grains. ‘I need to get up,’ he told her.

‘Why?’

‘I need to … you know.’

Her brows rose. ‘Ah. You shouldn’t, really. But … all right.’ She took hold of him under the arms and gently lifted him so that he could draw his legs beneath himself. He snarled and hissed in suppressed pain but managed to stand. ‘Help me walk a bit.’

She rolled her eyes. ‘I’ve nursed a lot of men – no need for shyness.’

‘Humour me.’

Tsking, she took his weight so that he could limp off a few steps.

‘Good,’ he said, his voice taut. ‘Thank you.’

‘Fine. Call if you fall down.’ She walked away.

‘I most certainly will.’ He unlaced the front of his pants and eased his bladder. How embarrassing that when you were wounded you couldn’t even get up to see to the most basic of things. He resolved not to be wounded again.

Slowly, very slowly, he tottered back to camp. Lyan came and took his arm. ‘I should lie down,’ he gasped. He’d broken into a cold sweat. She eased him back down.

‘I will call for their healers,’ he heard her say as through a roaring waterfall.

When he next awoke he felt much better. The stabbing pain was gone from his side. It was late afternoon. Dorrin dozed in the shade nearby. ‘Hey, lad. How are you?’

Dorrin jerked awake, sat up. ‘I’ll get Lyan.’ And he ran off.

After a moment Lyan jogged up, wearing only a sweat-soaked shift and trousers, her sheathed sword in one hand. ‘You are awake.’

‘Yes. What happened?’

Her face grew serious. ‘A needle of obsidian was left behind in your side. It was digging in, slicing you up. They found it and drew it out. The old lady used her teeth for that, by the way.’

‘I’ll have to thank her.’

‘Better?’

‘Yes.’

‘Good.’ She cleared her throat, then motioned to his throat. ‘That necklace you wear. A remembrance, perhaps? From a girl?’

He raised a hand to touch the smooth amber stone at his neck. ‘From a friend. He was of the Thel Akai. An ancient race. Giants, some name them. You have heard of them?’

‘You mean a Toblakai? We know them in the north.’

‘Related.’

‘Ah.’

‘What were you doing?’

Lyan peered down at herself, jerked. ‘Oh, yes. Practising.’

He nodded. ‘Good.’ He thought the view from down here looking up at her was wonderful and she seemed to see something of this in his expression.