Elda laughed to herself. “There’s no sense wishing for anything, nor weeping.” She snorted, the derision palpable in her voice. “As if tears ever counted for anything.”

Kurkas leaned back in his chair and regarded her with distaste. At least someone in Eskavord found a mote of pleasure in events. She and Makrov would likely get on like a house on fire. Now that was a happy thought. He’d even supply the flame.

Elda held his gaze for a long moment. Then she shuffled in her chair and stared pointedly out across the garden. “You should go.”

At last, they agreed on something. Especially in light of what Yanda had insisted was not a threat. “Yeah. We’d better get moving . . .” Kurkas glanced at Revekah. “. . . if you feel up to it.”

“You misunderstand me, young man,” said Elda. “You should go. Revekah can stay. This is her home. This is where she belongs.”

Halvor winced an apology. “Elda . . .”

“Why should I leave?” Kurkas interrupted breezily. “Everyone’s so friendly hereabouts.”

“Why should you stay?” snapped Elda. “There’s nothing you can do. Eskavord is beyond ephemeral aid.”

“Right barrel of cheer, ain’tcha? You’re just as bad as Yanda.”

Halvor frowned. “Yanda?”

“We crossed paths. Looks like a woman who traded her soul to old Jack and got stiffed on the deal.”

Halvor closed her eyes. “Maybe she didn’t have a choice.”

“You believe that? With everything you’ve lived through?”

“No. I suppose not.”

Kurkas couldn’t quite put his finger on why he hated Yanda’s attitude so much. Maybe Elda was right. Maybe he should leave before he found his own hanging spot on Gallows Hill. But not yet. First he’d get Halvor to Branghall. Because as much as he didn’t want the life of a south-wealder rebel, he fancied Yanda’s hollow-eyed and impotent stare far less.

“You ready to get out of here?”

Revekah shot Elda a sidelong glance. “Yes.”

To Kurkas’ mind, every step carried them further from their destination. Every inch of forest looked much the same: bedraggled and as morose as he was steadily coming to feel. It didn’t help that every root and briar seemed determined to entangle his crutch. At least it was drier beneath the branches, give or take.

“You sure you know where you’re going?” he shouted. “Some guide you are.”

Halvor offered an acerbic stare. “We can’t go marching up to the front gate. Which means we need another way in.”

“Ah, the thrilling secrets of the southwealder resistance. Should I feel honoured?”

“If you like. Scratched hands and skinned knees. If you’re up to it.”

Climbing the wall. Child’s play for a man with two functioning arms and legs. Not so easy for a fellow with half that tally. Not that he’d any need to cross the wall himself. Main thing was to get Revekah inside.

“I can go anywhere you can, old woman.”