Raskan stirred the soup, feeling strangely frightened. He had no thoughts he could give voice to, no opinions that could not but display his own stupidity.

‘Forgive me, sergeant. I have embarrassed you.’

‘No, Lord, but I fear I am easily confused by such notions.’

‘Was I not clear enough in my point? Do not let the title of scholar, or poet, or lord, intimidate you overmuch. More importantly, do not delude yourself into imagining that such men and women are loftier, or somehow cleverer or purer of integrity or ideal than you or any other commoner. We live in a world of facades, but the grins behind them are all equally wretched.’

‘Grins, Lord?’

‘As a dog grins, sergeant.’

‘A dog grins in fear, Lord.’

‘Just so.’

‘Then, does everyone live in fear?’

The firelight barely reached the huge man standing beside Raskan, and the deep voice that came from that vague shape sounded loose, unguarded. ‘I would say, most of the time, yes. Fear that our opinions might be challenged. Fear that our way of seeing things might be called ignorant, self-serving, or indeed evil. Fear for our persons. Fear for our future, our fate. Our moment of death. Fear of failing in all that we set out to achieve. Fear of being forgotten.’

‘My lord, you describe a grim world.’

‘Oh, there are balances on occasion. Faint, momentary. Reasons for joy. Pride. But then fear comes clawing back. It always does. Tell me, sergeant, when you were a child, did you fear the darkness?’

‘I imagine we all did, Lord, when we were little more than pups.’

‘And what was it about darkness that we feared?’

Raskan shrugged. His eyes held on the flickering flames. It was a small fire, struggling to stay alive. When the last of the sticks had burned down, the coals would flare and ebb and finally grow cool. ‘The unknown, I suppose, Lord. Where things might hide.’

‘Yet Mother Dark chooses it like raiment.’

Raskan’s breath stilled, frozen in his chest. ‘I am a child no longer, Lord. I have no cause to fear that.’

‘I wonder, at times, if she has forgotten her own childhood. You need say nothing on that matter, sergeant. It’s late. My thoughts wander. As you say, we are no longer children. Darkness holds no terrors; we are past the time when the unknown threatens us.’

‘Lord, we can now let this cool,’ said Raskan, using his knife to lift the pot clear of the flames and setting it down.

‘Best join the others then,’ said Draconus, ‘before that meat turns to black leather.’

‘And you, Lord?’

‘In a few moments, sergeant. I will look some more upon these distant suns, and ponder unknown lives beneath their light.’

Raskan straightened, his knees clicking, his saddle-sore muscles protesting. He bowed to his lord and then made his way over to the other fire.

* * *