But I feel nothing. It was a game. It brought you close, within reach of my hand. And I could touch what I dare not desire. It was enough, my own small need, and each night you spend here, with me, is another night away from your whore of a mother, from her endless vengeance upon her own daughter. Nothing cruel in this bargain – but now… ‘It is difficult this night,’ he said, his voice thin and weak, sounding piteous even to his own ears. ‘The ghost is insensate to all but its own pain.’

‘We shall see,’ Sheltatha said.

After a moment, Sagander brought his lone leg under him and used a single crutch to push himself upright. He hobbled the two steps over to his cot, twisted and slumped down upon the canvas, making the legs creak. ‘Well then,’ he gasped. ‘Here I am—’

The tent flap was suddenly yanked aside, and an armoured figure ducked in, straightening with a harsh sigh.

Infayen Menand. Heavy and indolent where Sheltatha was supple and sweet; harsh and cold where Tathe’s daughter was kind and warm.

Sagander scowled. ‘What are you doing here, unannounced, uninvited? Leave us, captain, unless Tathe now owns you as well—’

‘Tathe doesn’t even own herself,’ Infayen said, her eyes flat as they fixed upon Sheltatha Lore, who returned the stare with a closed expression belonging to a much older woman. ‘I have come at the command of Mortal Sword Hunn Raal. The child Sheltatha Lore is to be escorted to the keep. Her care is now the responsibility of the Temple of Light. Get off those cushions, girl.’

‘I am her tutor—’

‘As you please,’ Infayen cut in. ‘If the temple deems lessons proper, they will undertake them from now on. Of course,’ she added, finally levelling her gaze on Sagander, ‘you may well find for yourself a role in that, but you will teach your lessons at the temple, not here in your tent.’

After a moment, Sagander nodded sharply. ‘Yes, of course. In fact, I believe that I approve.’

‘Well, that relieves us all. On your feet, Sheltatha.’

Sagander set a hand upon the girl’s shoulder and said, ‘Go on. It is indeed for the best.’

In silence, Sheltatha Lore stood. At a gesture from Infayen, the girl strode from the tent. As Infayen moved to follow, she paused at the tent entrance and glanced back at Sagander. ‘It may be,’ she said, ‘that you do not number among those who have damaged her. I saw not enough here to decide either way. But I will nonetheless insist upon an end to privacy when it comes to your tutoring the girl.’

‘You impugn my honour!’

‘How often that proclamation from those who have none.’

‘Said the woman who has slaughtered children in the forest!’