But he wasn’t yet dead. His spirit still inhabited his body, although from the blood running from his nose and the hollow where his skull had been caved in, it was hard to imagine how his spirit could reside there.

“Here, now, what about the ox?” Twist trotted over to where Shai crouched silently by the stream, the girl lying on the ground beside him, her head turned to watch the beating. He shoved on Shai’s shoulder, but Shai had braced himself, so he wasn’t shifted.

He grinned, looking right up into the man’s ugly face. “I chop wood. I chop wood.”

“Give him an axe,” laughed the soldier. “Let’s see if he can lop off its head in one go.”

The sergeant waded over. “The hells! Are you a cursed horse’s ass? You don’t go giving a fellow with arms that size an axe, you gods-cursed lack-brain. Get on now. Time to get moving.”

The horses were brought, the captives prodded into lines.

Vali uncurled from the ball he’d made of himself. “Whsst! They overlooked me, thank the gods.”

Shai sat rigid, not sure he could ever move again. If he closed his eyes, he saw sticks rising and falling in the hands of frightened children; if he opened them, he saw the body, and the ghost girl patting the beaten lad to try to rouse him.

“Heya!” murmured Vali. “Best get moving, you don’t want to get killed.”

“He’s not dead,” muttered Shai.

Vali looked at him sideways. “He looks dead.”

The familiar prickle of warning raced along Shai’s skin. In Kartu Town, they burned those who could see ghosts, for being tainted with the evil eye. Here, they killed those who weren’t obedient. No use taking chances.

“Get up,” he said to the girl.

“I don’t want to be beat like that,” Yudit whispered, struggling to her knees although she hadn’t the strength to rise.

“Get moving!” shouted the sergeant.

Whips cracked. Horses clopped through the shallows and plunged across breast-deep at the ford. The captives slogged through, shivering, but the worst cold was surely in their hearts, knowing what they had done.

“You there, ox! Get moving!”

He scooped up the girl and slung her over his back like a sack of wool to be brought down Dezara Mountain to market. Not much to carry. Vali slogged along beside, his expression thoughtful, his eyes seeking.

As he waded the ford, the sergeant yelled after him. “Best leave her if she can’t walk on her own. You fall behind, too, and we’ll kill you, too. You’re not that much use to us, ox.”

“He’s too stupid to understand your meaning,” said the one called Twist.

Shai clambered with difficulty up the far bank, Vali balancing him with a grip on one elbow, and shifted Yudit to a marginally more comfortable position over his shoulders. He filled his belly with breath, finding strength. Then he fell into line with the others, abandoning the dying boy and the ghost who would not leave him.