She looked up at them but did not say anything, moving instead to build up the central hearth nearby. “Are either of you wounded?” she asked.
Dagon answered that he was well, but Lucius stared into the growing flames, his thoughts back on the moor, and going over the longer list of things he could have lost that day were it not for Lunaris’ courage.
Night fell outside on the moors, and the driving rain gave way to a great jaundiced moon as Lucius and Dagon ate some broth and hard bread that Gwendolyn had given them.
They watched and waited as the woman tended Einion, never leaving his side, stroking his sweating forehead and pouring drops of water down his muttering lips.
“How long will he be like this?” Lucius asked her.
“Wyrm fever acts quickly. If he survives the night, then tomorr
