Verne jogged from their position in their convoy and went to go past Aalis who seemed to be struggling with her shawl.


    “Hold up,” Verne unhooked it from where it was caught on her mantle, “there.”


    “Thank you. I was starting to panic.” Aalis looked down at the baby in her arms who was awake and gazing at the blue/grey sky above. “For someone so small, he gets heavy. I thought I could adjust my shawl to take more of the weight.” She shook off the shawl and Verne took it.


    “How is he?”


    “Well, although I will be happier when Yolana can look after him.” Aalis admitted. “I do not have much experience with babies.”


    “Looks like it comes naturally to you.” Verne tilted her head. “I wouldn’t know the first thing to do with a baby.”


    “Just the opening I was hoping for.”


    “Wait…what?!” Verne cried in alarm as Aalis thrust the baby into her arms. “No…I can’t!”


    “Watch his head!”


    “Sorry!”


    Aalis took the shawl from Verne and adjusted the way it bore the weight of the baby, spreading more of it across her back from where it had been biting into her shoulder. She looked at Verne’s stricken expression and laughed.


    “He will not bite.”


    “I could handle biting,” Verne seethed, “but crying, pooping…crying…”


    “He is happy. Just…hold him,” Aalis looked up, “and go see what Caste wants.”


    “What now?” Verne looked up and groaned at Caste’s pointed look. “Apparently I’m the go between so Caste doesn’t have to talk to Judd.”


    “I promise I will take him from you…when I have untangled this mess I have made.” Aalis gave her a push. “Go on.”


    “Eh…” Verne looked down at the baby who blinked big hazel eyes and made a cooing sound. “Just so you know, this is temporary…I don’t do babies…”


    “Hey Verne,” Giordi called from the rear, “looks good on you!”


    Verne’s face flamed and she charged ahead, less frightened of carrying the baby than she was of any conversation alone with Giordi. In the company of others it was not so bad…unless it was Aalis…or Judd, both of whom knew she was a woman which made Verne feel self conscious…and that only left Caste, who was not overly talkative and Suvau who was unconscious.


    “Should have kept my mouth shut and not told anyone.” Verne muttered. “Come on baby. Caste is giving me dagger glares.”


    Caste was at the front of the convoy. Oska was leading Xenon who pulled the sledge with Suvau resting on it. Caste was not walking with Oska but on the other side of Xenon as if the tempestuous stallion was some form of protection against Caste’s imagined contamination.


    “Judd agrees that the palisade is the right place to go.” Verne confirmed. Caste nodded, remaining tight lipped and stern. When Judd had remarked that Caste was still speaking to Verne and Verne had joked about it, it was at the very edge of truth. Caste spoke to her but only when necessary and because there was a diminishing circle of others he would tolerate. Verne knew Caste wasn’t angry with her, he was angry with Judd but because Verne had gone with Judd, she was tainted by association.


    The sad part of it all was, Caste’s way of protecting himself was to isolate himself…and that was a lonely existence to endure.


    The baby gave a squark, his face scrunching into a tight expression, about to let out a wail and Verne trembled. “Maul…what do I do with it?”


    “How should I know?” Caste exclaimed.


    “You’re the learned scholar.”


    “There aren’t many books in the Order’s library on child rearing.”


    “And I bet if there were, you wouldn’t have read them.” Verne looked over her shoulder. “Aalis!”


    “Coming,” she hurried to the front, “oh baby, baby…are you hungry?”


    Verne handed the baby over and stepped back so far that Aalis wouldn’t be able to force it on her again. Aalis tucked it into the crook of her arm and cooed at the babe, flicking the lid open of her waterproof pouch. Thankfully the weather had been cool enough to keep the milk fresh, not freezing and not hot but she would be relieved to reach the nomad camp where there would be goats or cows to supply milk or Revna might be able to nurse him.


    “How is it possible that we have a Maul baby in our company?” Caste asked, his curiosity getting the better of him. “Another thing stolen from Mavour?”


    “Actually, he was rescued.” Aalis explained. “A certain mother needed to give him up to keep him safe.”


    “What did you say?”


    The three of them turned to Oska who ducked his head beneath Xenon, coming to their side of the stallion. Caste immediately put Verne and Aalis between himself and the Maul as he looked at them with disbelief on his handsome face.


    “He…I was asked to smuggle him out of Mavour.” Aalis said timidly, her arm curling around the baby protectively.


    Oska stared at the child, his jaw slack and his eyebrows oblique. “This…this is…”


    “I don’t want to know!” Caste stuck his fingers in his ears and began to hum tunelessly.


    “Is this baby…” Oska looked at Aalis.


    “Lady Jocasa’s…and…”


    “Mine…” Oska breathed. They were only faintly aware that they had halted, the convoy that had been spread out a little starting to catch up with them. Oska’s hands were trembling. He shook his head, backing away. “No…no it’s not possible…she always made sure…”


    “There was one time,” Aalis stopped him gently, “where common sense died to heartache.”


    “She…promised me…it was not…”


    “Look at him.” Verne snorted. “It hardly has Donimede’s pallor.”


    Aalis licked her lips, looked at the little boy she was nursing and, despite wanting to keep him in her arms, stepped forward to hand him to Oska. “Do you want to…”


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    “No!” Oska recoiled like she had offered him a poisonous snake, Xenon’s head tossing as he bumped against him. “No…”


    “What’s the hold up?” Judd called as he and Giordi, bringing up the rear, approached their position.


    Oska grasped Xenon’s reins and almost yanked the stallion forwards, putting as much distance as he could between himself and the baby. Aalis felt tears trickle down her face and rubbed them off on her mantle as Judd moved in closer.


    “Is everything alright?”


    “It’s fine.” Verne said firmly. “Just…stopped for a rest.”


    Not that Judd was fooled for a moment but he did what he could to move past it.


    “Then we’d better push on.”


    By the same time the following day, Suvau was spending more time awake than asleep. At Aalis’ orders he was to be very careful about pushing himself. He was glad he had her authoritative word on the subject because, after a week in Mavour, Suvau’s body had reached its limits and gone beyond. It saved his pride that he ought to be walking and leading his people when he wasn’t sure he would last an hour on his feet before keeling over.


    The final stretch within the wall had been a blur of blinding pain, dusty vision and unconsciousness. Suvau had to be reassured, during the times he was awake in the hut, that they had indeed escaped the wall and Mavour.


    Unfortunately, because he was resigned to being dragged on the stretcher, there was little else to do with his time than think…and Suvau’s mind always returned to the same thing, angry, hurt and resentful.


    Because they were still very far south and the land, especially at night, was known to be stalked by monsters that the wall had not kept out and the soldiers had not stopped, their journey north was not a direct route. They aimed for campsites of safety rather than shortening the journey and ending up camped out in the open. The first night was spent in a nomad palisade of reasonable size and, going by the firewood stacked near the ring of stones, recent use. The posts were strong and in good condition and there were several solid structures that helped deflect the wind.


    The second night was after a long day of hiking northward. Caste insisted Chief Elk had marked another palisade on his map but just as Judd had given the call for them to stop and start to make camp, to have enough daylight left to do what they could to fortify their position, Verne’s sharp eyes sighted the campsite.


    Suvau had insisted on walking. The sledge tended to slow them down as it needed to be dragged over the most even ground which meant some time demanding detours. They pushed hard to the palisade, relieved to be there as the shadows grew long and an even longer howl echoed towards them.


    “Wolf,” Verne announced, “not monster.”


    “Unless it’s a werewolf.”


    Verne pointed at the moon which was already sailing its crescent smile across the darkening sky.


    “Not a full moon. Just a regular wolf.”


    “Regular wolf is bad enough.” Judd barked, bringing up the rear, closing the gate behind them then looked around the campsite. It was smaller than the one they had stayed in the night before and not in the best condition. The Mauls huddled together, the howl of the wolf bringing back some terrible memories. “I know you’re all tired but we need to check the fence for gaps.”


    Suvau stood up but Aalis pushed him down.


    “But I…”


    “No.” She ordered then put the baby in his arms. “You have done more than enough and your body is still healing.”


    Suvau looked at the child who stared up at him with an air of surprise, Suvau’s dark skin a contrast to all those who had nursed the baby so far. The babe’s skin was about Emeri’s hue and he had black hair which was typical of his people. But his eyes were far lighter, amber brown with flecks of green in them.


    “You’ve got some good colour there,” Suvau reassured him gently, “yes you do,” he took the little fingers that waved about and let them curl around his thumb, “when we find a looking glass, you can see just how handsome you are little man.”


    Some of the Mauls built a fire while Verne gutted and skinned rabbits he’d managed to kill on the day’s march. Aalis had her cooking pot out and was cutting up the remaining vegetables and herbs from her supplies. Suvau heard grunting and twisted to see Judd and Oska heaving the sledge up onto its side to block a gap in the palisade. Judd brushed his hands off and looked around.


    “No shelter…but at least it isn’t raining.”


    Oska’s eyes shifted to Suvau, dropped to the baby then darted away, hurrying out of sight. Suvau had to be mindful not to grind his teeth.


    “Here,” Aalis held out her arms and he handed the baby to her, “he will be hungry soon.” She watched as Suvau stood up. “Where are you going?”


    “Just stretching and trying to stay warm.” He assured her. Aalis’ expression told Suvau she didn’t believe him but he turned and walked in the opposite direction of Oska. He swung his arms, feeling the muscles tighten and ache, warning him that it was not just the concussion that had caused his nearly three day convalescence. It was the battering his body had taken before that. And while remaining strong and stalwart had been essential in getting his people to trust that he could free them from Mavour, there were others now who could take some of the strain.


    Only not all of them would pull their own weight.


    Suvau clenched his teeth. He put his hand out to grasp part of the palisade, leaning down and shaking his head. “Now is not that time,” he whispered to himself, “not now…”


    “Suvau?” He cringed at the sound of his name called by the one person he did not want to speak to. “Are you alright?”


    “I’m well.” Suvau said tightly, his anger churning into a ball of resentment in the pit of his stomach. “Why are you here?”


    “Aalis wanted me to check on you…should you really be up and moving about?”


    “I’m feeling a great deal improved.” Suvau replied sharply.


    “Really?” Oska’s voice came closer. “You’re looking a little shaky.”


    “I am well enough.” Suvau grunted, wondering if Oska was truly so ignorant that he was mistaking Suvau’s tremble of overwhelming emotion for the shakiness of frailty.


    “Well enough to do what?”


    Suvau closed his eyes. “This.” He spun around, his fingers already curled into a tight fist which connected with Oska’s jaw, bone jarring, skin bruising almost instantly. Oska nearly went down, stumbling backwards as Suvau advanced on him, his fists flying. “You bastard!” He roared, his fury unleashed. “You sold yourself to Jocasa for the sake of bedchamber pleasures and damn apples while the others starved!”


    Oska deflected Suvau’s blows, unable to defend himself with any of his own, staggering into the centre of the camp in order to get away from his brother in law.


    “I had an opportunity and I took it!” Oska argued with the stubbornness that came from desperation rather than conviction. “I wasn’t harming anyone!” He swung his own fist but Suvau caught it and pushed him backwards, Oska tripping over a swag, landing hard on his back.


    “What about the Mauls that took your place because you were selling your body to be spared the pit?” Suvau snapped. “What about them?”


    “Like they would have done any different!” Oska protested, unable to get up.


    Suvau went to leap on him, blinded and unreasonable, when Judd suddenly threw himself on Suvau’s body, pulling him back.


    “Suvau!”


    “Stay back, LaMogre!” He ordered, throwing him off. “This is between me and my own.”


    “And who made you judge and jury?” Oska clambered to his feet, hands out in front of him as if he was trying to calm a frightened, angry horse.


    “I’m neither,” Suvau’s muscles flexed, “I’m the executioner.” Oska’s eyes widened at the violence of Suvau’s tone. “Those you left behind,” he jerked his head to the other Mauls who had all gathered, “they already hated you in that dungeon and I could not work out why. Why weren’t you scarred? Why were your chains well oiled and used? Because you were summoned frequently, to fill your belly and secure your own safety.” Oska’s mouth turned down and his hands dropped to his sides. “Every time you made the two backed beast with Jocasa, one of your own was taking your place in the pit!”


    Oska swallowed, his jaw trembling. “You…you don’t know what she said…I…couldn’t refuse her.”


    Suvau’s red haze turned black. “She said you were only too hasty in taking her up on her offer.”


    Oska’s mouth fell open. “She said that?” Suvau nodded. “How…”


    “Because she tried the same tactic on me.” A flare of shame curled over Suvau, reminding him of just how strongly he had been aroused in Jocasa’s bedchambers.


    “I…I thought…” Oska sank onto the ground. “I thought she cared…that it wasn’t just…” He lowered his head, his hands over his face.


    “Whatever you fooled yourself into thinking it had become,” Suvau ignored his own shame by pushing through it aggressively, “you cannot deny that you thought of no one but yourself.”


    “What do you want of me?” Oska asked hollowly. “Do you want me to admit I’m not as strong as you?” He looked up at Suvau. “Well, I’m not. I never was. And…being in the pit was the single most terrifying hour of my life! I barely survived against small monsters! I wouldn’t have lasted a month!” He stood up. “So yes, I took Jocasa up on her offer but I didn’t know it would be ongoing. I thought…I thought just once…just…a glimmer of hope…” He looked at his hands. “I would have given anything for it in the pit…so when she offered, I took it and no, I didn’t hesitate to let her use me…even when I thought…”


    His confession, broken and soaked in self loathing, had taken most of the fire out of Suvau’s anger. The air was sharpening as the sun disappeared beyond the horizon with only the fleeting memory of light keeping the sky from turning black. The Mauls stood divided, some enjoying Oska’s humiliation and others honest enough in their own hearts to know that they would have done the same as he.