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you? Who
hurt
you? I’ll kill them! I swear it.”
    Wynter shook her head. She would not tell him. She could not, and despite the comfort she found in him, she pushed away. Christopher kept his hands on her shoulders, his eyes searching her face and she shrugged him off.
    “It was just a dream, Christopher. Do not worry.”
    He took her hand, but she would not look at him.
    He tilted his head and ducked to catch her eye. “Wyn,” he said softly.
    “It was just a dream!” she insisted. “It’s just a
dream
,” and she buried her face in her hands and curled her head onto her knees.
    Wynter hoped Christopher would just go, but when he put his arm across her shoulders and pulled her to him again, she surprised herself by not pulling away. And when he continued just to sit beside her, his chin resting on her hair, rocking her gently in the quiet night, she felt overwhelmingly grateful for his presence.
    Somehow she found herself holding his hand again.
    “Christopher,” she whispered, “please don’t tell anyone…”
    Christopher said nothing when she told him about the poor merchant. He did nothing but continue to rock her gently as she spoke about that man’s hot look across the bright water of the stream, and about how he had followed her and attacked her and haunted her dreams afterwards. He didn’t draw away or show any anger, or make any comment at all. At the end, when he was certain that she was finished, he tilted his head against her hair and looked down at her.
    “Are you all right now, sweetheart?”
    She nodded against his chest. “Aye.”
    “Will you be able to sleep?”
    She nodded again and Christopher tilted his face up to the moonlit canopy and sighed. “This bloody world,” he said softly. Then he kissed her hair, pressed his forehead to her shoulder, and got up to rouse Razi for his watch.
    It took quite an effort to wake the poor man.
    Wynter wrapped herself tightly in her cloak and listened to them moving about in the dark. Razi coughed and stretched, and went behind a tree to piss. He pottered around the edges of camp, checking the horses and stretching his legs. She heard Christopher yawn; there were soft sounds as he settled down for the night. Eventually, he was lost in silence for a while. Wynter could just see his pale face glowing in the corner of her eye.
    “Christopher?” she whispered.
    “Aye?”
    She lay quietly for a moment, uncertain. Then she got to her feet, her cloak wrapped around her. She saw Christopher’s eyes follow her as she crossed the camp.
    Razi called softly from the dark. “Are you all right, sis?”
    She smiled at him, though she knew he wouldn’t see it in this light. “I’m fine, Razi. Thank you.” She shuffled around behind Christopher, and he turned his head to look up into her face. “Is it all right?” she asked, gesturing to his bedroll.
    He nodded wordlessly, still gazing up at her. Wynter hesitated, then lay down beside him. Christopher tensed for a moment, as if unsure of what to do, then he turned his back to her, as he had on their last night together. Wynter pulled herself in close, looped her arm across his waist, and rested her forehead against his back. Behind them, Razi was motionless in the shadows.
    Wynter closed her eyes. Christopher took her hand. Razi went back to checking on the horses.

The Box of Hay

    “Y ou have no right to ask that of us.” Christopher’s lilting voice, speaking quietly nearby.
    Wynter opened her eyes to pale pre-dawn light. She blinked slowly into the dimness, orienting herself. She was lying with her back to the camp, facing out into the trees, and it took a moment to remember that she had come across in the night to share Christopher’s bedroll. She felt her cheeks grow hot at the memory and at the same time she realised that Razi hadn’t woken her for her watch. She was just about to turn and give him a piece of her mind when his deep voice stilled her.
    “It is what I want,” he said.
    “Oh,