He watched his friend’s eyes slowly grow wide.

Impatient, Hetan stepped forward and gripped Harllo by one arm. She pulled him to his feet, then dragged him out into the darkness.

Staring after them, Stonny frowned. ‘What’s all that about?’

Not a single man spoke up.

She swung a glare on Gruntle. After a moment, she hissed with understanding. ‘What an outrage!’

‘My dear,’ the captain laughed, ‘after Saltoan, that’s a little rich coming from you.’

‘Don’t you “dear” me, Gruntle! What are the rest of us supposed to do – sit here and listen to gross grunting and groaning from that hump of grasses over there? Disgusting!’

‘Really, Stonny. In the circumstances, it makes perfect sense—’

‘It’s not that, you idiot! That woman chose Harllo! Gods, I’m going to be sick! Harllo! Look around this fire – there’s you, and let’s face it, a certain type of uncultured, trashy woman couldn’t resist you. And Buke, tall and weathered with a tortured soul – surely worth a snakefight or three. But Harllo? That tangled-haired ape?’

‘He’s got big hands,’ Gruntle murmured. ‘So Hetan observed last... uh, last night.’

Stonny stared, then leaned forward. ‘She had you last night! Didn’t she? That loose, grease-smeared savage had you! I can see the truth in your smug face, Gruntle, so don’t deny it!’

‘Well, you just heard her – how could any warm-blooded man resist?’

‘Fine, then!’ she snapped, rising. ‘Buke, on your feet, damn you.’

He flinched back. ‘No – I couldn’t – I, uh, no, I’m sorry, Stonny—’

Snarling, she whirled on the two silent Barghast.

Cafal smiled. ‘Choose Netok. He’s yet—’

‘Fine!’ She gestured.

The youth rose unsteadily.

‘Big hands,’ Gruntle observed.

‘Shut up, Gruntle.’

‘Head in the other direction, please,’ he continued. ‘You wouldn’t want to stumble over anything ... unsightly.’

‘Damn right in that. Let’s go, Netok.’

They walked off, the Barghast trailing like a pup on a leash.

The captain swung to Buke. ‘You fool.’

The man just shook his head, staring down at the fire.

Emancipor Reese reached for the tin pot holding the spiced wine. ‘Two more nights,’ he muttered. ‘Typical.’

Gruntle stared at the old man for a moment, then grinned. ‘We ain’t dead yet – who knows, maybe Oponn’s smiling down on you.’

‘That’d make a change,’ Reese grumbled.

‘How in Hood’s name did you get tied up with your two masters, anyway?’

‘Long story,’ he muttered, sipping at his wine. ‘Too long to tell, really. My wife, you see ... Well, the posting offered travel. . .’

‘Are you suggesting you chose the lesser of two evils?’

‘Heavens forfend, sir.’

‘Ah, you’ve regrets now, then.’

‘I didn’t say that, neither.’

A sudden yowl from the darkness startled everyone.

‘Which one made that sound, I wonder?’ Gruntle mused.

‘None,’ Reese said. ‘My cat’s come back.’