His eyes looked suddenly very old as he met her gaze for a moment before returning his attention to the hearth.

Felisin refilled the cup, then joined Heboric at the square, raised fireplace. The burning dung in the groundstone basin was almost smokeless. The pedestal the basin sat on was glazed and filled with water. Kept hot by the fire, the water was used for washing and bathing, while the pedestal radiated enough heat to keep the night’s chill from the single room. Fragments of Dosii spun rug and reed mats cushioned the floorboards. The entire dwelling was raised on stilts five feet above the sands.

Sitting down on a low wooden stool, Felisin pushed her chilled feet close to the pedestal. ‘I saw you at the carts today,’ she said, her words slightly slurred. ‘Gunnip walked beside you with a switch.’

Heboric grunted. ‘That amused them all day, Gunnip telling his guards he was swatting flies.’

‘Did he break skin?’

‘Aye, but Fener’s tracks heal me well, you know that.’

‘The wounds, yes, but not the pain – I can see, Heboric’

His glance was wry. ‘Surprised you can see anything, lass. Is that durhang I smell, too? Careful with that, the smoke will pull you into a deeper and darker shaft than Deep Mine could ever reach.’

Felisin held out a pebble-sized black button. ‘I deal with my pain, you deal with yours.’

He shook his head. ‘I appreciate the offer, but not this time. You hold there in your hand a month’s pay for a Dosii guard. I’d advise you to use it in trade.’

She shrugged, returning the durhang to the pouch at her belt. ‘I’ve nothing I need that Beneth won’t give me already. All I need do is ask.’

‘And you imagine he gives it to you freely.’

She drank. ‘As good as. You’re being moved, Heboric. To Deepsoil. Starting tomorrow. No more Gunnip and his switch.’

He closed his eyes. ‘Why does thanking you leave such a bitter taste in my mouth?’

‘My wine-soaked brain whispers hypocrisy.’

She watched the colour leave his face. Oh, Felisin, too much durhang, too much wine! Do I only do good for Heboric to give me salt for his wounds? I’ve no wish to be so cruel. She withdrew from beneath her tunic the food she had saved for him, leaned forward and placed the small wrapped bundle in his lap. ‘Sinker Lake has dropped another hand’s width.’

He said nothing, eyes on the stumps at the ends of his wrists.