“The folk I talked to said everyone died in the battle. But I think a few of the outlanders were still alive. From what folk let slip, the Horn folk came through afterward and slit the throats of the wounded rather than try to heal them. The other group ran away.”

“Folk lie.”

“It seems likely.” She rested a hand on his elbow.

He shifted away.

“Don’t tell me you’ve never had sex.”

He turned away so she wouldn’t see how red he was. “I went to the temple in Olossi.”

“One time, I hear.”

“I’ve been to brothels in Kartu Town.” Only twice, but he needn’t say that! Anyway, the girls there had been glazed on sweet-smoke, unable to distinguish one man from another.

“Some things in life can’t be bought or sold.”

“You keep slaves here.” He met her gaze defiantly. Let the Hundred folk preen and spout about their temples; that didn’t make them better than the people of Kartu Town.

“Sure we do. There are folk who like that a person hasn’t any choice. I think it’s disgusting.” She pressed his shoulder back until he was caught against the rock, then leaned against him. “What do you think?”

Ragged corners of rock poked painfully into his back. “Slaves have no will of their own,” he said hoarsely. He could feel the pressure of her all along the length of his body.

“What does that mean?”

“They are disgraced. They have no honor.”

“Maybe so, or maybe they were just unlucky.” She licked her lips in a manner meant to make him crazy, and it did. “I wasn’t asking about slaves anyway.” She traced the line of his body from chest down his torso to a hip, and slid her hand around to cup one buttock. “Aui! You have a good, firm shape. We could do it in the crevice over there, and no one the wiser.”

“Stop,” he whispered.

She ground her hips against his until he thought he would burst. “You’re not going to find any trace of your brother after four days looking over this cursed field. I’m bored waiting around, and when I get bored I get in a devouring mood, even if I am one of Hasibal’s pilgrims. So I’m going to devour you, right now, because you want it, you’re just too shy to say so. You need a little spice to heat you up, get that . . . tongue . . . of yours slick.”

She steered him to the crevice, a slit mostly covered by a fall of vegetation sprinkled with orange flowers. He caught a whiff of their sweet scent as she dragged him through the vines. She pressed him down on the dry dirt floor and peeled back his clothing. At first she sat astride him fully clothed, teasing him with her hands and lips as he groaned and writhed, rocking herself against him until she gasped to a climax. Then she loosed her own trousers and straddled him.