delighted by some elder's fireside trick. The old woman couldn't help herself and laughed. He grinned at her, then his face turned serious as he took the gourd and sniffed carefully at it. He sipped cautiously, holding the water in his mouth to make sure it was good before swallowing.

So he did possess foraging skills, even if he had the status not to have to use them. The old woman dug up more of the swollen roots with the pale knife and emptied their water into the gourd. The tall man and the girl stood watching her. When she was done, the tall man took his pale knife back and knelt to carefully cut a few more of the roots free. He deftly sliced the end off one and handed it to her so she could drink before doing the same for his woman and quenching his own thirst with another.

The girl was still looking askance at her, which momentarily irritated the old woman. She handed her the half-full gourd and went to look for any nuts that the birds or lizards or whoever else lived in this valley might have left among the dusty green leaves of the trees. The tall man and the girl followed her, though this late in the dry season she had to search three different trees before she spied reddish husks hiding behind a thick clump of leaves. She twisted the cluster of nuts free with a grunt of effort.

The tall man and the girl were still watching her with the uncomplicated curiosity of children. The old woman took one of the girl's hands and filled it with the nuts. Taking one of the ripest, she carefully widened the split in the shell with her fingernails to reveal the green kernel within. Snapping the nut open, she plucked out the meat and ate it, looking the girl steadily in the eye all the while.

The girl gingerly cracked open one of the nuts and nibbled cautiously at the green kernel. Looking oddly thoughtful, she said something to the tall man. He came and ate a nut, frowning. The old woman waited,

apprehensive, until the tall man's face cleared. She smiled hopefully and tugged at the hide sack the girl carried. The girl didn't surrender it and the old woman braced herself for some blow or rebuke. But instead the girl simply opened the sack herself and turned her attention to the trees, rapidly twisting free whatever nut clusters she could find and dropping them inside. The tall man startled the old woman by reaching up to branches too high for her and the girl and pulling down some nut clusters himself. He didn't even eat them, handing them to the girl instead so she could put them in her leather sack.

The old woman began filling a fold of her hide wrap with red shells. Vigilant for any hint of danger as she did so, she saw the tall man was keeping a similar watch as he set about cutting a stout twig from a nut tree with his pale knife. He took a length of cord from some fold in his strange garb and as he twisted a deft noose, the old woman realised he was making a snare.

She watched him trace the faint score of some trail along the hard ground and kneel to tie his snare to a frail nut-tree sapling barely clinging to life in hopes of rain coming soon. He split the stick to hold the noose loosely above the run and, looking up, caught the old woman watching him. He grinned, his shrug eloquent. He didn't know if he was going to catch anything but he thought it was worth a try.

He stood up, still watchful for anything stirring in the early-morning cool. The old woman wasn't worried; the birds were still chattering peaceably among themselves. The girl said something and headed back to the painted cave, sack of nuts in one hand, shiny gourd in the other. The tall man followed her, ushering the old woman ahead of him, still diligently keeping watch.

She had no choice but to obey. She slid a sideways

glance at the tall man and wondered if he was kind to the girl. He was certainly a man of puzzles and contradictions. He was a hunter — he'd proved as much setting that snare - and those remarkable long knives he carried must surely signify some notable status. He was no painted man, yet the paler-skinned painted man and woman yielded to his authority. But he hadn't claimed whatever first share he felt entitled to from the root water or the nuts and had shown no fear of undermining his standing by gathering such humble food.

They returned to the cave and the old woman watched the girl pour the nuts they had gathered out onto the rocky floor and begin dividing them. She realised with growing astonishment that the girl was making five equal shares.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

'Do you think you'll catch anything in that snare?' Risala sounded sceptical.

Velindre stirred at the sound of her voice, though Naldeth was still fast asleep.

'Our friend here didn't pull it up and scowl at me for a fool. I rather think she would have if she reckoned I was wasting my time.' Despite their perilous situation, Kheda found that the notion amused him.

Risala didn't smile. 'What are we going to do with her?'

'I don't know.' Kheda considered the old woman, who smiled hesitantly back at him. 'But as long as she's with us, she can't be telling some wild mage where we are.'

'You don't think you should go out and look for some signs to guide us now it's light?' Risala flung a worm-eaten nut away with some venom. 'That skull-wearer will send his spearmen out to hunt down whoever spoiled their sport last night soon enough.'

Do you mean signs of local wild men or signs and portents in the skies and the earthly compass?

Velindre saved Kheda from having to answer as she opened her eyes and yawned. She sat up abruptly as she registered the daylight slipping down the cave entrance, digging her fingers into her stiff neck. 'I thought we were going to try to get back to the Zaise before dawn.'

'You needed to sleep yourselves out.' Kheda was unrepentant. 'I learned from Dev not to risk encountering

any magic-wielding enemy with a half-exhausted wizard at my side.'

Their voices roused the younger mage. He moved sleepily before coming fully awake and instinctively clutching at his stump. 'Ah, cowshit and cockleshells.'

Kheda saw pain carving a deep cleft between the mage's brows. 'Let me have a look at your leg.'

'It'll be alright.' Naldeth spoke through clenched teeth.

'He's a healer,' Velindre said acerbically. 'Let him see it.'

'You can help me shell breakfast.' Risala tossed another rejected nut into the depths of the cave.

'My pleasure,' replied the magewoman dryly. 'Once I've attended to my own more immediate needs.'

'Can you help me up,' Naldeth asked roughly, 'before I piss myself like some cripple?'

As Velindre stepped past Kheda in the narrow confines of the cave, the warlord offered the mage his arm. Naldeth gripped his forearm and Kheda hauled him upright. Jaw clenched and sweat beading his forehead, the younger man clambered awkwardly out of the cave behind Velindre.

Risala concentrated on shelling more nuts, the only sound in the cave the sharp splitting. 'Have you any thoughts on what we'll do once we've got back to the ship?' she asked at length, not meeting Kheda's eye. 'Will we sail for home?'

Kheda hesitated. 'If we agree that's for the best.'

He saw the old woman looking inquisitively at him and then back at Risala and fell silent.

What would you say, if you could say anything we could understand?

Some moments later, he heard Velindre returning, her voice terse and practical. 'There are enough uncertainties about wielding magic in this place. You don't need the

additional distraction of physical pain, not if it can be relieved, even a little.'

'All right, very well,' Naldeth snapped as he slid down the cave's awkward entrance slope and resigned himself to unbuckling the straps around his waist and thigh. 'I'm not used to walking for so long, not over such rough ground.'