'Well, you know,' he said awkwardly, 'a woman in amongst all these men, they're not used to it. The way that man Dow stares at you. I don't—'

'That's very noble of you, Colonel, but I wouldn't worry about them. I doubt they'll do anything more than stare, and I've dealt with worse than that.'

'Worse than him?'

'First camp I was in, the commandant took a liking to me. Still had the glow of a good free life on my skin, I suppose. He starved me to get what he wanted. Five days with no food.'

West winced. 'And that was long enough to make him give up?'

'They don't give up. Five days was all I could stand. You do what you have to.'

'You mean…'

'What you have to.' She shrugged. 'I'm not proud, but I'm not ashamed either. Pride and shame, neither one will feed you. The only thing I regret is those five days of hunger, five days when I could have eaten well. You do what you have to. I don't care who you are. Once you start starving…' She shrugged again.

'What about your father?'

'Pike?' She looked up at the burnt-faced convict ahead of them. 'He's a good man, but he's no relative of mine. I've no idea what became of my real family. Split up all over Angland probably, if they're still alive.'

'So he's—'

'Sometimes, if you pretend you're family, people act differently. We've helped each other out. If it wasn't for Pike, I suppose I'd still be hammering metal in the camp.'

'Instead of which you're enjoying this wonderful outing.'

'Huh. You make do with what you're given.' She put her head down and quickened her pace, stalking off through the trees.

West watched her go. She had some bones to her, the Northmen would have said. Ladisla could have learned a thing or two from her tight-lipped determination. West looked over his shoulder at the Prince, stumbling daintily through the mud with a petulant frown on his face. He blew out a smoky sigh. It seemed that it was far too late for Ladisla to learn anything.

A miserable meal of a chunk of old bread and a cup of cold stew. Threetrees wouldn't let them have a fire, for all of Ladisla's begging. Too much risk of being seen. So they sat and spoke quietly in the gathering gloom, a little way from the Northmen. Talking was good, if only to keep one's mind from the cold, and the aches, and the discomfort. If only to stop one's teeth from chattering.

'You said you fought in Kanta, eh, Pike? In the war?'

'That's right. I was a Sergeant there.' Pike nodded slowly, his eyes glittering in the pink mess of his face. 'Hard to believe we were always too hot, eh?'