'Triumph and pride! We have horses!'
Cutter slowed. 'We heard a scream-'
'Horses,' Heboric said as he walked towards the skittish animals. '
That's a bit of luck.'
'Innocent. Scream? No, friend Cutter. Was Greyfrog… breaking wind.'
'Really. And did these horses just wander up to you?'
'Bold. Yes! Most curious!'
Cutter headed over to study some odd stains in the scuffled dust.
Greyfrog's palm-prints were evident in the effort to clean up the mess. 'Some blood here…'
'Shock, dismay… remorse.'
'Remorse. At what happened here, or at being found out?'
'Sly. Why, the former, of course, friend Cutter.'
Grimacing, Cutter glanced over at Scillara and Felisin, studied their expressions. 'I think,' he said slowly, 'that I am glad I was not here to see what you two saw.'
'Yes,' Scillara replied. 'You should be.'
'Best keep your distance from these beasts, Greyfrog,' Heboric called out. 'They may not like me, much, but they really don't like you.'
'Confident. They just don't know me yet.'
'I wouldn't feed this to a rat,' Smiles said, picking desultorily at the fragments of meat on the tin plate resting in her lap. 'Look, even the flies are avoiding it.'
'It's not the food they're avoiding,' Koryk said. 'It's you.'
She sneered across at him. 'That's called respect. A foreign word to you, I know. Seti are just failed Wickans. Everybody knows that. And you, you're a failed Seti.' She took her plate and sent it skidding across the sand towards Koryk. 'Here, stick it in your half-blood ears and save it for later.'
'She's so sweet after a day's hard riding,' Koryk said to Tarr, with a broad, white smile.
'Keep baiting her,' the corporal replied, 'and you'll probably regret it.' He too was eyeing what passed for supper on his plate, his normally placid expression wrinkling into a slight scowl. 'It's horse, I'm sure of it.'
'Dug up from some horse cemetery,' Smiles said, stretching out her legs. 'I'd kill for some grease-fish, baked in clay over coals down on the beach. Yellow-spiced, weed-wrapped. A jug of Meskeri wine and some worthy lad from the inland village. A farm-boy, big-'
'Hood's litany, enough!' Koryk leaned forward and spat into the fire.
'You rounding up some pig-swiller with fluff on his chin is the only story you know, that much is obvious. Dammit, Smiles, we've heard it all a thousand times. You crawling out of Father's estate at night to get your hands and knees wet down on the beach. Where was all this again? Oh, right, little-girl dream-land, I'd forgotten-'
A knife thudded into Koryk's right calf. Bellowing, he scrambled back, then sank down to clutch at his leg.
Soldiers from nearby squads looked over, squinting through the dust that suffused the entire camp. A moment's curiosity, quickly fading.
As Koryk loosed a stream of indignant curses, both hands trying to stem the bleeding, Bottle sighed and rose from where he sat. 'See what happens when the old men leave us to play on our own? Hold still, Koryk,' he said as he approached. 'I'll get you mended – won't take long-'
'Make it soon,' the half-blood Seti said in a growl, 'so I can slit that bitch's throat.'
Bottle glanced over at the woman, then leaned in close to Koryk. '
Easy. She's looking a little pale. A bad throw-'
'Oh, and what was she aiming at?'
Corporal Tarr climbed to his feet. 'Strings won't be happy with you, Smiles,' he said, shaking his head.
'He moved his leg-'
'And you threw a knife at him.'
'It was that little-girl thing. I was provoked.'
'Never mind how it started. You might try apologizing – maybe Koryk will leave it at that-'
'Sure,' Koryk said. 'The day Hood climbs into his own grave.'
'Bottle, you stopped the bleeding yet?'
'Pretty much, Corporal.' Bottle tossed the knife over towards Smiles.
It landed at her feet, the blade slick.
'Thanks, Bottle,' Koryk said. 'Now she can try again.'
The knife thudded into the ground between the half-blood's boots.
All eyes snapped to stare at Smiles.
Bottle licked his lips. That damned thing had come all too close to his left hand.
'That's where I was aiming,' Smiles said.