‘You’re the one who should be worried,’ Pilgrim said. ‘Considering what happened. What I did.’

‘What it’s worth, I reckon Creed had it coming. He underestimated you and paid the price.’

‘You and I must pay a price too. I think it might benefit both of us to do that together.’

Gentle stopped and turned to survey the sandy pastures. Maras resting under a clump of shade trees. Nothing moving but the blades of the windmills on the ridge of the lodge, turning slowly in the hot breeze. He was wearing a long-sleeved tunic and a wide-brimmed straw hat fastened under his jaw by a length of string. Lacking pigment in his pelt and skin, he was always at serious risk of sunburn.

‘They don’t have you under guard, it looks like,’ he said. ‘I were you, I’d be giving some serious thought about clearing out.’

‘I promised that I would abide by the decision of the aunties.’

‘Creed made the same promise, after he was sent back by the fishing folk. Didn’t stop him trying to run away.’

‘How did you fall in with him? Was it an objection to your work, or to the people you had to work with?’

‘I didn’t mind the work. It was mostly tending maras, and I like working with animals. Prefer them to the company of people.’

‘Because animals accept you for who you are,’ Pilgrim said.

‘I remember you told me you understood how people judge by appearances. You being a cripple and all. But despite how it went down between you and Creed, you still have your family and your tribe,’ Gentle said, without any trace of animosity or bitterness. ‘While I had to walk away from all of that because they couldn’t abide someone who looks like I do.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that.’