Sheldrake sat on the ground with his back against a log. His head was wrapped in a bandage that secured a poultice to the bruised bump on the back of his head. Earlier, Rhoda had held his head between her hands, easing the pain and apparently healing a hairline skull fracture before applying the bandage. He was still pale and lethargic but was doing his best to get a grip on the situation. Maud was sitting beside him and, in an uncharacteristic display of public affection, held his hand in hers, a gesture that told Jayhan how serious his father’s injury had been.
On her left side, Jayhan leaned in against her within the circle of her arm, exhausted but too tense to sleep. Every time his eyes drooped, the memory of the dead man beneath him or Jon with the knife to his throat would jerk him
