DOOM LOOKED SHARPLY at his friend when she stumbled. “Hey!” He caught her before she fell, helping ease her to the ground. She breathed raggedly, her complexion sickly. He touched her forehead with the back of his hand and sighed in relief. “You look like death, but at least you don’t feel like it.”

“Sorry,” she repeated in litany. She swallowed and looked up at him. “I just need…a few minutes rest…”

“No. We have made good distance today. We passed two towns and we’re well away from both of them, no one should notice us here.” He began brushing leaves to expose the ground for a camp fire. “We’re going to stay here a few days, Ti.”

She flushed in deep shame. “I will be fine,” she promised, still breathing heavily. “I can keep going.”

He smiled to himself to the familiar argument. “I know you can.” He could sense her surprise. “But we need supplies. I need to hunt and then prepare what I catch so we can travel further. This is a good place to stop. It is near that spring-pond we passed, so we have water. Game should be easier to find near the water, too.”

Straightening, she looked at him defiantly. “I will help!”

Amused at her determination, he responded in mild tones, “I expect you to help.” He nearly outright laughed at her expression when he did not insist she focus on resting and healing. “But not with hunting. Not yet. You need to heal more.”

She frowned, crossing her arms. “Then what do you expect me to do? I’m a gladiator. I have no training in anything but fighting. Hunting is not that different.”

He glanced sidelong at her opinion on his art verses hers, but chose not to argue the point. “There are other things that need to be done. The bandages we have used need to be washed so we can use them again. Whatever I catch needs to be cleaned. The fire needs to be maintained. The water skins need to be kept filled.”

Her expression filled with skepticism. “Filling water skins and washing bandages are simple enough, but I have no skills in the rest. I just know fighting. You know that.” She scratched at the golden shackles still on her wrists in irritation. “I do not need to be coddled. I am not completely helpless.”

“It isn’t coddling, it’s practical. You don’t know how to do a lot, but you’re a fast learner,” he soothed. He rose to fetch several large, fallen branches, easily breaking them into smaller pieces over his knee and arranging them in a pile. “I can teach you. There are many arts a woodsman knows besides hunting and tracking, and those you are healthy enough to do.” She eyed him dubiously. “I promise,” he sighed, “I will teach you to hunt. When you are ready. All right?”

“I suppose.” She scrutinized him as he lit the fire. “Teach me that. To make a fire. That isn’t too strenuous.”

“The next one,” he assured. “We do not need more than one.” He sat across the fire from her and picked up one of the branches. “In the morning, we will need more firewood and there are plenty of fallen branches near here. Any size branch will do, but the largest will burn longer. And make certain the wood is dry or it won’t burn well.”

She nodded, filing the instructions away for future use. Doom recognized her expression and grinned. “Remember, you had to be a fast learner to survive Alimar. I have faith you can learn anything you set your mind to.”

She scowled, but nodded. “How do I tell if it’s dry?”

“Break it. Or try to. Wet wood will either bend or feel heavier than an old one of a similar size. Dry wood is brittle.” He snapped the branch he held with his bare hands as an example, several splinters flying into the air, a few landing in the fire in blazing glory. She nodded again. “Another thing we need is water. The water is cleanest nearest the spring itself. And with it being autumn, you will be able to find plenty of berries and nuts to gather near here. They will do well to sustain us if the hunting turns poor.”

“Aren’t some nuts and berries poisonous?” she asked with a frown. “Alimar was very fond of those.”

Doom scowled. “He used them to make his poisons?” he inquired with uncertainty at the unexpected question. He had never known Tiwaz to speak about their former master’s habits or other business.

She shook her head. “Not always. He ate them.”

“Ate them?” he asked in disbelief. “Impossible! There’s a reason they’re called ‘poisonous’, Ti. You know that.”

She shrugged indifferently then shuddered and pulled her knees to her chest to hunch under her cloak, pulling it closer around her shoulders. “I do not miss that place at all.”

Doom moved to her side, put his arm and cloak around her shoulders, and held her close. She sighed, leaning into his much greater warmth. “Neither do I,” he rumbled. Doom sat still, watching the fire. In a moment, he felt her relax into sleep. His embrace tightened minutely, afraid to cause her any hurt, but unwilling to let her outside of his protection.