In the war, on the retreat from Rajal. Kid s right, that s how it works. They left the wounded where they fell. Made us march right past them, you could hear them calling after us, pleading. Begging us not to leave them for the lizards. And we weren t even slaves back then, we were still citizens, we were soldiers.

Tigeth made an exasperated noise. It s not the same, that was a war. It s not the same thing at

What s the matter, big man? The gaunt captive stared at Tigeth with open dislike. You reckon some rich Yhelteth widow s going to buy you for a scribe and butler just cuz you can read and write? Think you ll be too good for minework or carrying a hod till you drop?

Nah, just too fucking fat for it, someone jeered.

Too fucking fat for a widow n all, said someone else. Less she buys him for a cushion.

General laughter, low and mean. Tigeth bristled.

He isn t going to be fat by the time we get there, said the Rajal veteran quietly. March like we got ahead of us, he s going to be just as burned down and blistered and broken as everybody else. If he makes it at all.

Quiet welled up in the wake of the words. The captives looked at one another as the message sank in. Most of them had doubtless seen some casual brutality since they were arrested and sold; maybe a few of the younger and prettier among them had suffered like Gerin the same inevitable dungeon rapes as the women who now marched on separate coffles. But by and large these men had not yet had to face the idea they might die.

Faint, feverish chills moved along Gerin s spine as he realized that up until now, neither had he. In all his twisting and scheming to get out of this, he d envisaged a lot of bad outcomes, but none involved his own extinction.