He couldn't have been asleep for long. Rhiana was kneeling beside a fire, stripping and gutting a couple of small rabbits. She worked with casual ease, no hint of distaste on her face at what she was doing. Guts and innards she dropped into a patch of ground where the sod had been lifted, and she used a small, sharp knife to cut off chunks of meat. She skewered these on two long metal spikes, placed them on brackets above the fire, then glanced over at Ramus.

“Nice sleep?” she said.

Ramus nodded, not trusting himself to answer.

“Smell of my cooking bring you awake?”

He nodded again.

“I do the best spiced rabbit stew you've ever tasted, but that'll wait for an evening. Quick stop for now, your friend tells us, so for now it's just roasted steaks. Good for you?”

Ramus smiled, surprised at the rumbles in his stomach. “Sounds very good to me.”

Rhiana stood and walked over to him, squatting down and leaning over to whisper some secret. “Best spices for rabbit aren't violet skin and shred, like most will tell you. You know what they are?”

“Haven't got a clue,” Ramus said. “Buy mine from street traders, and I don't know what they use at all.”

“Street traders,” Rhiana said, with disgust in her voice. “For every good one, there are a dozen who don't know how to cook, let alone serve food at its best. I'll tell you, Ramus—best spice for roasting rabbit is port root.”

“That's poisonous!” Ramus said.

“It is. Eat port root and your guts will tie up, you'll puke blood and crap like the Violet Dogs themselves are after you!But if you use the port root tendrils, they're not yet poisonous. Too deep, lots of water passing through them. Beat them, dry them and strip the brown flesh out of them, and they give you the best spice for rabbit you have ever tasted.”

“I'll take your word for it.”

“No you won't,” she said. “You'll try it.”

Ramus looked at Rhiana's serious expression and burst out laughing. It felt good, driving down the memory of the dream and bringing him back to the present.

Rhiana walked away toward the fire and Ramus could not help admiring the shape of her as she went. All this fresh air is getting to me, he thought. Beneath the aroma of roasting rabbit and hot horses there was the brisk, heady scent of the open plains. It all smelled good.

Rhiana took a leather pouch from one pocket, grinned at Ramus and sprinkled generous pinches of dried white spice over the rabbit. The meat's juices were already running from the heat, and the spices stuck, burning into the flesh and sending their rich, warm scent into the air.

Fresh air, he thought again. Half a day out from Long Marrakash and he felt different already. More alive.

Ironic, when the pain behind his eyes was giving him such horrendous nightmares.