At once he heard the light sound of Sean's footsteps behind him. He turned to speak sharply to the boy only to find that Ma'el was following him as well. One word from me, he thought irritably, and they do as they like.

He followed the sound until they came to the base of a tall tree whose gnarled branches had been left blackened and leafless by a lightning strike so that bright moonlight shone down on the white face and figure of the leader of the robbers whose back was to the thick trunk. There was no sight or sound of his men who, as Declan had guessed they would, had deserted him. Thick, drying blood covered the sides of the other's mouth and darkened the gray streaks that had been in his beard, and the ground under and around him was also saturated by a dark and widening stain. His axe lay in the grass several paces away and both of his hands and forearms were pressed tightly against his middle. Declan stepped closer.

The man must have heard him because the moaning ceased. He opened his eyes, looked up at Declan and started to speak but coughed blood instead. A moment passed and he tried again.

"Please," he said. "End it."

Before Declan could reply, Sean moved forward, quickly went down on one knee beside the man, and said gently, "Ease your mind, I am a healer."

The boy lifted the man's arms and hands clear of his belly and placed them at his sides, then peeled back the blood-soaked clothing to bare the chest and stomach. It was a long, deep, transverse wound that gaped open to reveal the man's entrails, many of which had been severed and were sliding wetly onto the ground. There was a strong smell of excrement. Declan heard the boy's sharp intake of breath before he looked up at him and said angrily, "You made a bloody mess of this one."