‘You are to have my master’s protection. Come, the Temple of Hood has been prepared for your residence.’

‘Not sure how I should take that. The Mhybe needs help.’

‘What the Mhybe needs, Coll of Darujhistan, is not for you to give.’

‘Is it for Hood to give?’

‘The woman’s flesh and bone must be maintained. Fed, given water, cared for. That is your responsibility.’

‘You did not answer.’

‘Follow me. We have not far to go.’

‘At the moment,’ Coll said quietly, ‘I am inclined otherwise.’ He reached for his sword.

The Knight of Death cocked his head. ‘Tell me, Coll of Darujhistan, do you sleep?’

The Daru frowned. ‘Of course. What—’

‘I did once, too. I must have, yes? But now, I do not. Instead, I pace. You see, I cannot remember sleep. I cannot remember what it was like.’

‘I – I am sorry for that.’

‘Thus, one who does not sleep ... and, here in this wagon, one who will not awaken. I believe, Coll of Darujhistan, that we will have need of each other. Soon. This woman and I.’

‘What kind of need?’

‘I do not know. Come, we’ve not far.’

Coll slowly resheathed his sword. He could not have explained why he did so; none of his questions had been answered to his satisfaction, and the thought of entering Hood’s protection chilled his skin. None the less, he nodded and said, ‘A moment, if you will. I have to lift Murillio onto the bed.’

‘Ah, yes. That is true. I would have done so but, alas, I find myself unable to release my swords from my own hands.’ The warrior was silent a moment longer, then he said, ‘Korbal Broach saw into me. His words have made my mind ... troubled. Coll of Darujhistan, I think I am dead. Am I? Am I dead?’

‘I don’t know,’ the Daru replied, ‘but... I think so.’

‘The dead, it is said, do not sleep.’

Coll well knew the saying, and knew that it had originally come from Hood’s own temple. He knew, as well, the wry observation that closed the quote.’ “While the living do not live.” Not that that makes much sense.’

‘It does to me,’ the warrior said. ‘For I now know that I have lost what I did not know I once possessed.’

Coll’s mind stumbled through that statement, then he sighed. ‘I’d be a fool not to take your word for it... have you a name?’

‘I believe so, but I have forgotten it.’

‘Well,’ Coll said as he crouched down over Murillio and gathered the man into his arms, ‘Knight of Death won’t do, I’m afraid.’ He straightened, grunting at the weight in his arms. ‘You were a Gidrath, yes? And a Capan – though I admit, with that bronze hue to your skin, you’ve more the colouring of—’