‘All right, do it yourself, then. But hurry up; the longer you keep those wet things on, the longer you’ll take to warm up. Tell me when you’re decently covered again.’ It was beyond ridiculous, after that place, for there to be any need for privacy between us. The things we’d seen in there made a mockery of the niceties of life outside. On the other hand, we were outside now, and I at least would have to teach myself, all over again, how to behave around ordinary people, the kind of people who didn’t realise places like Mathuin’s lockup even existed. With my back to Grim, I got the way-bread out of my pack and broke off a good-sized piece. Then I waited. And while I waited it came to me that small courtesies like this should not be dismissed. That the ability to give a person a few moments’ privacy was a worthwhile thing; it was to offer the gift of respect.

‘Lady?’ Grim’s voice came eventually, deep and uncertain. ‘You want this pot stirring?’

‘Can I turn around without offending your modesty?’

‘Blanket’s a bit small. Nice and warm, though.’

I turned. Had things been different I might have smiled, but I had too much on my mind to be amused by the spectacle of a very large man draped curiously in an inadequate length of cloth. ‘Black Crow save us,’ I muttered. ‘You’d better have the other one as well, here.’

‘You’ll be cold –’

‘I have a perfectly good shawl and my clothes are dry. And I have a full belly. Sit down here and eat, it’ll help warm you up.’ I poured the remaining fish soup into the bowl, stuck the spoon in and handed it to him. ‘And this.’ I put the way-bread down beside him.

‘You don’t want me eating your supplies –’

‘Shut up, Grim. Not another word until it’s all gone. That’s an order.’

He ate; I busied myself draping his sodden garments over bushes and stones around the fire. His prison rags were gone; at some point during the three days since our escape, he had acquired a set of plain clothing, trousers, shirt, tunic, cloak, boots. If he had a pack or weaponry, he’d left it out there in the woods.

The food was soon gone; it would be way-bread for breakfast. I hoped the fish would be biting again tomorrow.

‘First good meal I’ve had in days,’ Grim said. His voice was markedly steadier, but he was avoiding my eye. ‘Thank you, Lady.’

One thing needed sorting out quickly. ‘I’ve got a different name now. Blackthorn. Don’t call me Lady.’

There was a pause, then he said, ‘Blackthorn. That’s a healer’s name, isn’t it? A wise woman’s name.’