They walked a score of paces before she found the words she truly wanted to say. He was watching the ground as he walked; she spoke to his profile, surrendering all control of her world as she did so. ‘I want to do whatever you want to do.’

She saw those words settle on him. She had thought they would be like a blessing, but he received them as a burden. His face grew very still. He lifted his eyes. His barge rested on the bank before them and he seemed to meet its sympathetic stare. When he spoke, perhaps he spoke to his ship as much as to her. ‘I have to do what is right,’ he said regretfully. ‘For both of us,’ he added, and there was finality in his words.

‘I won’t be packed off back to Bingtown!’

A smile twisted half his mouth. ‘Oh, I’m well aware of that, my dear. No one will be packing you off to anywhere. Where you go, you’ll go of your free will or not at all.’

‘Just so you understand that,’ she said, and tried to sound strong and free. She reached out and took his calloused hand in hers, gripping it tight, feeling the roughness and the strength of it. He squeezed her hand carefully in response. Then he released it.

The day seemed dim. Sedric closed his eyes tightly and then opened them again. It didn’t help. Vertigo spun him and he found himself groping for the wall of his compartment. The barge seemed to rock under his feet, but he knew it to be drawn up on the riverbank. Where was the handle to the damn door? He couldn’t see. He leaned against the wall, breathing shal-lowly and fighting not to vomit.

‘Are you all right?’ A deep voice at his elbow, one that was not unfamiliar. He fought to put his thoughts in order. Carson, the hunter. The one with the full ginger beard. That was who was talking to him.

Sedric took a careful breath. ‘I’m not sure. Is the light odd? It seems so dim to me.’

‘It’s bright today, man. The kind of light where I can’t look at the water for too long.’ Concern in the man’s voice. Why? He scarcely knew the hunter.