Carefully, I reached out to the man’s mind, praying that Rasial had been wrong, and that I would be able to coerce him, but the ridgeback had been right. I could not get into his mind. The taint in him was strong enough to make my mind buzz uncomfortably and I wondered how Rasial had managed to read the man’s thoughts. But then I remembered, it was not his thoughts but his spirit that the merged spirit-form of Rasial and Gavyn had read.

Concentrate! I snarled at myself. I heard the sound of a boot scrape the stone. It was too loud for us not to have heard, and I looked up even as Swallow turned slowly, rising to his feet and squinting into the darkness. He took care to keep his hands in view so that the man would see he held no more than a wooden spoon. ‘Who is there?’ he asked in a tone that contrived to be both wary and anxious.

The man stopped again, and seeing him in the dim ruddy firelight, it seemed to me that I had seen him before, though I did not recognise him. He was a good head taller than Ahmedri, strongly built and solidly muscled, but his eyes glittered with fever and all about his mouth and throat were the black blister-sores of advanced taint sickness among his filthy matted beard. Pity warred with revulsion, but both were swept away by terror when he drew Dragon against his chest and belly and lifted the blade to lay the edge of it against her throat. Horror welled in me at the thought that he meant to cut her throat then and there, and I felt Maruman’s claws sink into my legs though he did not move otherwise.

For a long moment nothing happened, and then I gathered my wits and my courage and pretended to squint to see so that he would not wonder why I made no comment about the knife. I said, ‘Come closer sirrah, so that we can see you. Have you and the lass had an accident? This is a dreadful lonely place to be injured, but lucky for you I have a healing kit and a little skill.’

I could not see Dragon’s eyes for they were closed, nor could I tell if she had taint blisters, for there were fresh smears of blood over her miscoloured and swollen face.

‘Come and share our fire,’ Swallow invited. ‘You need have no fear of us, for there is only me and my sister Elaria. In truth it is not men you need to fear in these mountains but the queer beasts as dwell here. Join us, if you will, because four will fare better than two and a horse. It is a pity we had to abandon our wagon but there was no help for it in these mountains. We have some stew if you would like. Do you have anything we could use to thicken it, mayhap? A turnip? My sister can tend to your wounds.’