Strange how she never stopped hoping.

'You dig well,' said Ninefingers. She squinted up at him, standing over her at the edge of the pit.

'Lots of practice.' She dug the spade into the earth beside the hole, planted her hands on the sides and jumped out, sat on the edge with her legs hanging down. Her shirt was stuck to her with sweat, her face was running with it. She wiped her forehead with her dirty hand. He handed her the water-skin and she took it from him, pulled the stopper out with her teeth.

'How long do we have?'

She sucked a mouthful out of the skin and worked it round, spat it out. 'Depends how hard they go.' She took another mouthful and swallowed. 'They are going hard now. They keep that up, they could be on us late tonight, or maybe dawn tomorrow.' She handed the skin back.

'Dawn tomorrow.' Ninefingers slowly pushed the stopper back in. 'Thirteen you said, eh?'

'Thirteen.'

'And four of us.'

'Five, if the Navigator comes to help.'

Ninefingers scratched at his jaw. 'Not very likely.'

'That apprentice any use in a fight?'

Ninefingers winced. 'Not much.'

'How about Luthar?'

'I'd be surprised if he's ever thrown a fist in anger, let alone a blade.'

Ferro nodded. 'Thirteen against two, then.'

'Long odds.'

'Very.'

He took a deep breath and stared down into the pit. 'If you had a mind to run, I can't say I'd blame you.'

'Huh,' she snorted. Strange, but she hadn't even thought about it. 'I'll stick. See how it turns out.'

'Alright. Good. Can't say I don't need you.'

The wind rustled in the grass and sighed against the stones. There were things that should be said at a time like this, Ferro guessed, but she did not know what. She had never had much talk in her.

'One thing. If I die, you bury me.' She held her hand out to him. 'Deal?'

He raised an eyebrow at it. 'Done.' It was a long time, she realised, since she touched another person without the purpose of hurting them. It was a strange feeling, his hand gripped in hers, his fingers tight round hers, his palm pressed against hers. Warm. He nodded at her. She nodded at him. Then they let go.

'What if we both die?' he said.

She shrugged. 'Then the crows can pick us clean. After all, what's the difference?'

'Not much,' he muttered, starting off down the slope. 'Not much.'

The Road to Victory

The Road to Victory

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West stood by a clump of stunted trees, in the cutting wind, on the high ground above the river Cumnur, and watched the long column move. More accurately, he watched it not move.