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I have no doubt,” countered Christopher mildly. “But that’s beside the point. Don’t ask it again.”
    “Chris…”
    “She will not leave, and I will not attempt to persuade her. She is a full grown woman, Razi. She has her own mind.”
    “She is
fifteen
years old,” exclaimed Razi, his voice pitched low so as not to wake her.
    “You were negotiating your father’s business in Algiers at fourteen.” Christopher was stirring a pot, or scouring a bowl, and though his voice was still mild, the grating sound of his activity grew louder in agitation.
    “I am different!”
    The sound of stirring paused. “How are you different? Because you have that pudding between your legs, is it?”
    “Christopher! Do not be crude!”
    “She is a
full-grown woman
…”
    “So you seem determined to point out.”
    Wynter thought she heard amusement in Razi’s voice now, and Christopher resumed his activity, his voice muffled as if he’d ducked his head. “She is strong and brave and quick.”
    “Yes, but—”
    “She would have gelded you on that hill had her reflexes not been so fast.”
    “Chris—”
    “She was already heading straight as an arrow for your brother’s camp while we were still sniffing our own arses here in these woods!”
    “All right, Chris.” There was a definite smile beginning to creep into Razi’s voice. Wynter could not help but smile herself. Christopher sounded so earnest.
    “You cannot always treat her like a baby, she is—”
    “A full grown woman. Aye. You’ve said. She is strong and brave and clever. The equivalent of ten strong men.
How
have I not seen this before? Why, with Wynter by our side we shall overthrow the Haun in a day, and convert the rabid Combermen to Islam.” Razi was laughing now, but there was no sting in it.
    Christopher muttered an amiable “Oh, shut up,” under his breath.
    There was a long moment’s pause. Then Razi murmured softly, “I want you both safe, Chris. This fight is not of your making. I want—”
    “Do not insult me,” interrupted Christopher flatly. There was more silence, then Christopher said, “Stop shirking and go fill those waterskins. Your little sister is going to murder you when she realises that you took her watch, and I want your chores done before you’re too crippled to walk.”
    “You had better run, Razi Kingsson,” growled Wynter from her bed, “for as soon as I get these covers off me, I’m going to kick your arse.” She rolled and glared across the clearing at him.
    Razi was already walking off, the waterskins slung across both shoulders. He backed away, spreading his arms in challenge. “Catch me then, warrior woman! Come on!”
    Wynter settled back, folding her arms, and Razi grinned.
    “I thought not!” he said, and strode away towards the river.
    Wynter watched Christopher’s slim back as he served out three bowls of mush. Like herself, he had his hair bound tightly against his head to protect it from the dust and parasites, and she thought the nape of his neck had a very strong, pleasing look to it. He had left off his tunic and she could see the closely muscled contours of his back and shoulders under the thin cloth of his undershirt. She swallowed hard at the feelings these things awoke in her.
    “Christopher,” she said. “I am sorry that I intruded on your kindness last night.”
    Christopher was perfectly still for a moment. Then he tilted his head towards her slightly, so that she could see a portion of cheekbone and the black shadow of his eyelashes. “Do you regret it?” he asked softly.
    “No, I do not.”
    She saw his shoulders relax, and he went back to dishing out the breakfast. “Would you mind packing away the bedrolls?” he asked. “There’s much to discuss before we leave, and it’s best to get everything done now.”
    “All right.”
    He sat still and quiet while she began her task, but she’d only knotted the ties on the first ground sheet when he spoke again. “Razi has asked