“Close your eyes.”

I barely had time to heed Ryshad’s warning before he dumped a bucket of water over me. Once I recovered from the shock, it was wonderful to feel the heat scouring me clean. “Wait a moment.” I squeezed as much foam from the soap root as I could into my hair.

“Let me.” I closed my eyes, savouring the deft touch of Ryshad’s strong fingers. Slick, his hands moved to my shoulders, blunt thumbs digging in gently to loosen muscle knotted by exhausted sleep on a cold stone floor. Just his touch roused my blood and I hoped the others would put my sudden blush down to the heat of the water.

“Eyes closed?” His hands left me and another bucketful came crashing down on my head. I puffed and wiped water from my eyes, appalled at the colour of the water I was kneeling in. Had I really been that filthy?

“Who was that?” Sorgrad was in the middle of soaping his own hair with grated root when a figure went running past the window.

’Gren didn’t pause as he scoured his face. ”No idea.”

“Nor me.” I couldn’t have said if the person had been male or female, young or grown, not through that clouded excuse for a window.

“Watch out!”

’Gren didn’t so much rinse his brother down as slosh a bucket full in his face.

“Did you see?” Ryshad turned to the mage but Shiv was sitting on the rim of the spring’s basin, tracing a slow circle in the steaming water with a curious finger. His intense concentration looked ludicrous coupled with his lean nakedness. I tucked away a private observation that Pered was a lucky man.

The mage looked up. “Sorry?”

“What’s so fascinating?” Sorgrad had stripped enough colour from his hair to leave it dun and lifeless but the paint on his arms was proving more stubborn.

Shiv began scrubbing at his own hands. “The way the fire beneath the rocks reacts with the water. I wonder—” He broke off and looked more closely at the inadequate lather. “This isn’t doing too much good.”

“Can you do better?” ’Gren challenged, lobbing a handful of soap root at the wizard’s face.

Shiv caught it deftly and made as if to throw it back, laughing as ’Gren ducked to one side. “Let’s see what a little wizardry can do.” He spun the fresh green of new rushes into the tangle of fibres and tossed me and Ryshad each a clump. Trying to see what we had left ’Gren sufficiently off guard that Shiv managed to hit him full in the face with his. Sorgrad came to his brother’s aid and soaked the mage with a pail of water.

“Behave, children,” I chided while trying not to laugh. Whatever Shiv did to the soap roots was remarkably effective and the darkness poured out of my hair when I had another go at washing it. “How do I look?” I squinted up at Ryshad.

He looked at me, head on one side. “Muddy brown.”

I stuck my tongue out at him and stood up to let him sluice the dirty water off me. My arms were still tainted blue but you had to look close to see it. With luck, once I was dressed, people would just think I was feeling the cold.

“Your turn.” I tugged the stopper out of the hole in the bottom of the trough and got out, pleased to see the Eldritch disguise flow down the gully and out beneath the wall. Filling the trough again helped keep me warm but I began to shiver as I washed Ryshad’s hair while he scoured his forearms.

“Shiv? Any chance of some fresher linen?” The idea of putting that frowsty shirt on my clean body revolted me.

“Give me a moment.” The wizard’s wet hair was black and sleek against his head.

“Can you fetch me my shaving gear?” Ryshad grimaced as he ran a hand over his bristles.

’Gren tested his own chin as I rummaged in Ryshad’s bag. ”I don’t think I’ll bother.”

“You can leave it half a season and no one notices unless your whiskers catch the light,” I teased.

A knock at the door startled us all.

“Hello?” Sorgrad wiped soap from his face.

“Towels?” ’Gren wondered hopefully.

A voice outside said something I didn’t catch.

“Food!” ’Gren’s face broke into a broad smile. “Even better.”

I moved to avoid brightening up any passing goatherd’s day as ’Gren opened the door entirely heedless of the fact he was bare-arsed and dripping wet. Wiry and muscular, he crouched to pick up a loaded tray.

“What have we got?” Sorgrad picked up a lidded flagon and they set the spoils on the broad rim of the pool. Ryshad finished his cursory shave with a few strokes of his razor and came dripping across the floor.

“You can share that.” A boiled goat’s head sitting in broth thick with herbs didn’t appeal to me. I prefer my food without an expression. I reached instead for a small plump bird and was agreeably surprised to find it had been stuffed with a sweet dough before baking to succulence.

“Our hostess must be better disposed than she looked.”

Shiv bit into a fat, glistening sausage. The mouthful muffled his curses as sizeable scraps of hot offal spilt down his chest.

Ryshad coughed. “It looks like everyone wants to get us drunk.” He handed the flagon to me and I took a cautious sip.

“What kind of liquor is that to give travellers?” I coughed. The powerful fumes of the spirit made my eyes water.

’Gren paused, mouth stuffed with flatbread scorched from the skillet. ”There’s enough food here to keep us busy for a while.”

“From a woman none too pleased to see us in the first place.” Sorgrad ate a dark blood sausage in a series of rapid bites.

We all looked at each other. Ryshad and I shared a lifetime’s habit of suspicion with Sorgrad and ’Gren and even Shiv was looking doubtful.

“What can you see in the yard?” Ryshad scooped a bizarre concoction of cheese pressed with scraps of meat and herbs on to a slab of bread. Chewing, he crossed to a far window and tugged the bone frame just far enough awry for a clear view out.

“There’s no one lifting so much as a slop pail out here,” said Sorgrad slowly.

“Where are the people we saw before?” I watched Ryshad rummage in his bag.

“Nowhere.” Sorgrad craned his neck for a better view out of the clouded window.

“That doesn’t sound too friendly.” ’Gren stripped the meat from the goat’s head with deft fingers and packed it inside a hollow flatbread.

Shiv looked at Ryshad. “Anything on your side.”

Ryshad rested his spyglass on the sill. “Men running in ranks like a proper drilled troop are coming this way in a hurry.”

“The old woman sent Olret a message,” said Shiv slowly.

“He’s sent us an escort back to the keep?” Sorgrad was sceptical.

“Maybe, maybe not.” Ryshad finished his food in a few swift mouthfuls. “Let’s be ready to meet them, either way.”

We pulled on shirts and jerkins, stepping into breeches and boots, ignoring travel stains and staleness. A shadow caught my eye and as I looked through the yellowed membranes of the nearest window, several furtive figures passed between the blurred outlines of the house and outbuildings. “The old woman’s menfolk are ready to argue the point if we try to leave.”

Sorgrad was stuffing what of the remaining food would travel best into his and ’Gren’s bags. “If it comes to a fight, we take them all on at once.”

“Can’t we just leave them gawping at an empty trap?” I asked at Shiv as I laced up my shirt. “ ’Sar can’t still be snoring?”

“What is there to burn?” Shiv dug out his silver salver and looked around. “I need wood or wax.”

But bone was all there was hereabouts, thanks to the local lack of trees. Wanting trees made me think of the Forest and I threw Shiv one of my everyday rune sticks.

He didn’t hesitate, summoning a flame that burned with a strange green tint. He worked his now familiar magic once, then a second time, then a third, the rune stick burning with unnatural rapidity. Growing concern furrowed the mage’s brow as I concentrated on securing my bag and Ryshad’s to stop myself standing over Shiv. Ryshad was tense at his window while Sorgrad kept watch on the yard outside.