“I don’t know what to say except thank you.”

“You’re welcome. We shouldn’t linger here. We have a long way to go. Comman Dur is a solid five days’ march still. If you’re strong enough?”

“Of course I am, thanks to you. We’ll eat from our rations on the road.”

They didn’t want to sacrifice any of their remaining water, which was just what Bryony had in her waterskin, so they stamped out as many of the flames as possible before vacating the copse of trees. They spoke little as they returned to the road and resumed their march eastward. Like the firepit they’d left behind, the sky was charred with clouds the color of gray ash. To make the cold chill of the morning even worse, the threatening sky soon unleashed its deluge, the pounding rainfall so heavy they were forced to hunker under Ludo’s blanket as they trudged along the increasingly muddy track.

“Before the infection worsened, you had a nightmare,” Ludo said, finally breaking the silence. Even so near him, Bryony had to strain to hear him over the storm’s cacophony. “Last night.”

“Oh?” She held her gaze steady to the east, though it was hard to see much of anything through the skeins of rain. She still hadn’t looked at him since she’d awoken, not directly. She was embarrassed that he’d seen her in such a pathetic state. She was grateful, too, more than she could express with words, but that was an emotion she had no idea how to handle so she did her best to ignore it. “You should have woken me. It was risky for us both to sleep at the same time.”

He continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “Afterwards, you fell back asleep. I’ve never heard anyone sleep like that. So still. So silent. Like the dead.”

“It’s called rest. Good for your body and soul. You should try it some time.”

“Sleeping like that will get you killed. Don’t sleep like that anymore, even when you’re unwell.”

“How should I sleep?”

“Less.”

“Less?”

“Aye. Less time. Less vigorously.”

Bryony rolled her eyes. “I am sorry the vigor of my sleep offends you.”

“I’m not offended. Just offering some heartfelt advice.”

Her temper spiked and for a moment her lips almost betrayed her, admitting that she knew he’d snuck away during the night. Instead, she pressed her lips together to hide her clenched teeth. How could she hate him for almost abandoning her when he’d immediately saved her hand right after he’d returned? “Next time, wake me up for my turn to stand watch. Even if I’m sick or injured or whatever.”

“I will.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

They carried on, walking stride for stride under their makeshift canopy, which was heavy and sodden now, the first of the drips that had meandered through the fabric preparing to drop. “You know,” Bryony said, “you shouldn’t always look so scowly.”

“Scowly?”

“Aye, like this.” When he looked at her, she mimicked his dour, unfriendly expression.