Chapter Seven
Back dressed in his furs, Aleks Eyepatch brings up the rear. I keep glowering over my shoulder at him, ready to catch his leer on my round arse so I can hurl curses his way. Disappointingly, he seems more intent on scrutinizing the woods around us, sure an attack is imminent. I feel no fear. I am bubbling inside.
“Fall your horse back ten paces, you filthy dog!” I order him. “I don’t trust you this close to me.”
“That would be stupid,” he simply replies, and carries on as before.
In truth, I just feel an urge to chatter with Runa, like the women of our village do after feasts that see men leading them away for nights of passion. I want one of those giggling, secret-sharing conversations. I want to tell her of the little things I’m recalling: the close heat; the smell of h
