‘And how is my miracle patient?’ he asked, moving to check Maquin as he always did – his temperature and pulse, then the wound in his belly, just a slight bump and the silver knotting of a scar upon the skin now.

‘Restless,’ Maquin said.

‘I am not surprised,’ Alben said. ‘Men such as us, a lifetime of routine and training, it does not just go away. And it is a good sign, your mind and body telling you that they are ready. We best get you into the weapons court.’

‘Will you spar with me?’ Maquin asked him.

‘You will have to go easy on me.’

‘Ha, I think it will be the other way round,’ laughed Maquin.

Alben smiled at him. ‘In the morning, then.’

He walked back to the door, hesitated before he opened it.

‘You should know, people are talking of you both,’ he said.

Fidele felt her breath catch in her chest.

Alben turned and looked at them. His expression was sadness mingled with concern.

‘Go on,’ Maquin said.

‘War does things to people. Our mortality becomes clear. Will we die today, or on the morrow? These questions become foremost in the mind.’

‘I have lived in that state for more years than I can remember,’ Maquin growled. ‘This is no passing fancy.’

Alben shrugged. ‘I am not your judge. But you should know, talk is spreading, of the Queen and the pit-fighter. You have scarcely left this room, Fidele.’

‘I am not a queen,’ Fidele breathed.

‘You are to them,’ Alben said, gesturing vaguely about him. ‘The people of Ripa, the survivors, they see you as their queen, at least in Nathair’s absence.’

Fidele drew in a deep breath, standing taller. ‘I have lived in misery, thought that my life was ended – a living hell. And yet, here I am.’ She felt her hand searching for Maquin, just wanted to touch him. ‘I will not deny myself this. It came to me unsought, but I cannot deny it.’

‘You do not have to explain or defend yourself to me, my lady. I am both warrior and healer; I exist in a place where life and death cohabit; where they are bedfellows, only a breath apart. Life should be lived, and what is life without heart and passion?’ He shrugged. ‘I thought you should be aware, that is all.’

‘Thank you,’ Maquin said.

The swordsmaster left the room. Maquin just stared at Fidele.

‘I’ll not give you up,’ she said fiercely.

‘I returned from death to life for you. Rumours aren’t going to scare me,’ Maquin grinned.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

CORBAN

Corban hoisted his saddle onto Shield’s back and buckled the girth. Shield looked round at him and nudged him as he went through his routine.