West gave a sad gurgle. The closest thing to a laugh that he could manage. 'Which was your unit?'

'I was in the first regiment of the King's Own cavalry, under Colonel Glokta.'

'But, that was my regiment!'

'I know.'

'I don't remember you.'

Pike's burns shifted in a way that West thought might have been a smile. 'I looked different, back then. I remember you, though. Lieutenant West. The men liked you. Good man to go to with a problem.'

West swallowed. He wasn't much for fixing problems now. Only for making them. 'So how did you end up in the camp?'

Pike and Cathil exchanged glances. 'In general, among the convicts, you don't ask.'

'Oh.' West looked down, rubbed his hands together. 'I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you.'

'No offence.' Pike sniffed, and rubbed at the side of his melted nose. 'I made some mistakes. Let's leave it at that. You got a family waiting for you?'

West winced, folded his arms tight across his chest. 'I have a sister, back home in Adua. She's… complicated.' He thought it best to end there. 'You?'

'I had a wife. When I was sent here, she chose to stay behind. I used to hate her for it, but you know what? I can't say I wouldn't have done the same.'

Ladisla emerged from the trees, wiping his hands on the hem of West's coat. 'That's better! Must've been that damn meat this morning.' He sat down between West and Cathil and she scowled as if someone had dropped a shovelful of shit next to her. It was safe to say the two of them were not getting on. 'What were we speaking of?'

West winced. 'Pike was just mentioning his wife—'

'Oh? You know, of course, that I am engaged to be married, to the Princess Terez, daughter of Grand Duke Orso of Talins. She is a famous beauty…' Ladisla trailed off, frowning round at the shadowy trees, as if even he was dimly aware of how bizarre talk of such matters seemed in the wilds of Angland. 'Though I am beginning to suspect that she is less than entirely delighted with the match.'

'One can't imagine why,' murmured Cathil, at least the tenth jibe of the evening.

'I am the heir to the throne!' snapped the Prince, 'and will one day be your king! It would not hurt anyone for you to treat me with a measure of respect!'

She laughed in his face. 'I've no country and no king, and certainly no respect for you.'

Ladisla gasped with indignation. 'I will not be spoken to like—'