As they reached the village the first streaks of dawn were creeping up into the eastern sky, bathing the adobe houses and narrow dirt streets in a purplish light. The place was as still and silent as a ghost town. The one living presence they hadn’t noticed when they’d passed by yesterday, and to which they were alerted now by a soft bleating mehhhehhh coming from beyond the broken-down village wall, was the small herd of shaggy brown, black and white goats that must have been the former occupants of the corral nearby. The animals hadn’t strayed far, staying close to water and foraging among the slightly lusher vegetation growing near the riverbank.

‘Well if anything can survive up here,’ Wolf said, ‘it’s them. Until a snow leopard comes down from the mountains looking for his dinner.’

‘Or a wolf,’ Ben said, and Wolf smiled.

They entered the village and explored the empty alleyways. Coming to a low-roofed adobe house whose door was lying half ajar, Ben knocked on it and pushed it tentatively open, calling out in Pashto, ‘Hello? Anybody here?’ The answering silence was no surprise. These people were gone, run and hidden when the troops launched their attack on the orphanage in the fear that the village would be next. Maybe they’d come back; maybe they never would.

‘Certainly left in a hurry, didn’t they?’ Wolf said, pointing at a trestle table where three abandoned dishes still contained the remains of some clay-baked bread. ‘One thing about the tribal militiamen, they might be no angels but they have respect for the local villagers. They depend on them for supplies, and trade with them. But the Taliban don’t give a shit. One day they might come marching in demanding that the women cook for them and wash their clothes. The next, they might just decide to kill everybody.’

He picked up a piece of bread, inspected it for weevils and took a bite out of it. ‘A little on the stale side. I wouldn’t recommend this to anyone who didn’t have metal teeth.’

‘That rules out the normal folks.’

‘Thanks,’ Wolf said, swallowing.

‘Speaking of eating,’ Ben said, ‘that’s something we’re going to have to take care of, and soon. Got a lot more mouths to feed now.’

‘Those goats back there,’ Wolf said. ‘Enough to keep us all going a while. Roast goat again. How yummy.’

‘We’re lucky we don’t have to eat it raw,’ Ben reminded him.

‘Brings back so many fond memories,’ Wolf chuckled, rolling his eyes. ‘Not sure if our royal guest will appreciate such comforts, though. I don’t reckon they’re often on the menu at Buck Palace.’

‘The trick will be catching them,’ Ben said. Wolf nodded, thinking the same thing he was. The sound of a gunshot would travel for miles and alert anyone in the vicinity, friend or foe, to their presence here.