WHERE AM I?” MURMURED LORD STEPHEN.
“On a boat, sir.”
“I thought so.”
He didn’t seem surprised; he just accepted it.
After a while, he said, “You’re smiling.”
“Because you’re alive. Hearing your voice.”
Lord Stephen yawned.
I held the water sponge to his lips. “Suck this!” I said.
“On a boat,” Lord Stephen said, and he yawned again.
“I’ll explain. Let me heat some pottage first. You haven’t eaten anything for five days.”
Lord Stephen just looked up at me. His eyes were misty.
“You were wounded,” I said. “I’m taking you home.”
He frowned slightly, as if he were trying to work out what my words meant, and then he yawned for a third time. “Peacocks,” he said. He closed his purple eyelids and drifted into sleep.
Rhys and Turold are both asleep on a pile of Persian carpets. Simona’s sitting on the steps that lead up to the deck, and she keeps dabbing her eyes.…
We’re both so raw, with all our good-byes. We’ll talk tomorrow.
Early this morning, the sun rose right behind Zara. It dazzled me, and I couldn’t make out any of the towers or spires.
Slowly the city shrank.
Across the water, nothing but a dark tear.