Revekah glanced away. It wasn’t supposed to have ended like this.

“Why are you here?” she asked. “Why help me?”

“Why’d you save my life instead of going to your precious duke?” “Can you not once give a straight answer?”

He grinned. “Maybe. Why’d you patch me up? Me, a fearsome northwealder.”

Why indeed? But there was really only one answer. “We were comrades back then. We’re not any more, so I’ll ask again: why are you helping me?”

He shrugged. “I like having my debts paid off good and prompt. Figure this might set us even. Besides, Makrov’s a boil on the Republic’s arse. My lads and lasses fought for something better than his pride.”

It was all a mess, Revekah decided. He owed her. She owed him. Over and over, tallied in wounds mended and foes fought. Perhaps it wasn’t the greatest foundation for friendship, but she’d had worse.

She listened close to the rain, and fancied she heard Katya laughing at her.

The sentries at Eskavord’s east gate waved the dray through with only the most cursory of searches. Kurkas guessed few of his fellow north-wealders had much stomach for their current duties, especially in the rain. Only away to the west, where Branghall stood dark against brooding clouds, was there the suggestion of sun and clear skies.

Halvor stabled the dray and they set off through the streets. Here, at least, the rain was a blessing. With so many folk swathed against the weather, Halvor’s hooded cloak wouldn’t draw notice, let alone suspicion. In fact, no one seemed eager to pay them any heed at all.

Tressian patrols marched past with the determined speed of soldiers who believed they could stride between raindrops. Southwealders shuffled about like folk on the brink of exhaustion, eyes downcast and dull. The whole town stank of malice and despair.

It was such a bloody waste, thought Kurkas. Criminal, really.

He staggered as Halvor’s shoulder thumped into his. The crutch skidded across cobbles. Kurkas scrabbled for a handhold but found none in the press of the crowd.

Strong hands righted him before he fell entirely.

Halvor grimaced. “Lost my footing.”

He set his crutch back in place. “Raven’s Eyes. If you like patching me up that much, just break a few bones while I’m sleeping. Spare me the excitement of the fall.”

“You’ve had your apology.” Her breath steamed in the cold. “Everyone’s heading to the marketplace.”

“Want to bet Makrov has something planned?”

“No.”