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by a shudder of excitement passing through the creatures. As they lifted their faces, his eyes flitted from one to another, appalled by their fearful ugliness. Some slavers were approaching.
    They carried baskets into which they dug their hands and, coming out with hunks of something, they sowed these among the sartlar. One fell nearby and, straining, Carnelian managed to get his hands to it.
    At first he thought it wood, but it was too soft, one edge sodden and muddy where it had touched the ground. He brought it to his face and smelled hri. 'Bread,' he murmured, his lips curling with distaste as he saw the weevils crawling through it.
    'You will eat.'
    Carnelian looked up and discovered that the Ichorian was standing over him. The man slapped the bread out of his hand.
    'Here, I've kept the best for you.' He shoved a hunk of the black bread into Carnelian's lap. Carnelian worked it up his legs with his elbows and managed to get it into his hands. It looked much the same as the discarded piece.
    The Ichorian leaned in close. 'Let's take this off.'
    Carnelian held still as the man fumbled with the knots of his gag.
    'From now on,' the man mumbled almost in his ear, 'you'll not be needing these. This far from the road, be certain no one will hear your cries.'
    Carnelian endured the gag pulling tighter, his eyes following the black tattoo spirals on the Ichorian's face as he held onto the thought of escape. Scabs tore from the corners of his mouth as the gag came free. As the Ichorian moved over to Osidian, Carnelian practised gingerly opening and closing his mouth.
    'Now look what you've done. Soiled or not, you'll eat it.'
    The Ichorian was looking down at Osidian. He leaned to scoop a piece of bread from the mud and then rubbed it on his jerkin before forcing it on Osidian. The Ichorian removed his gag, then stood back.
    'Eat. You'll both need your strength tomorrow.'
    Carnelian peered at the bread. Rubbing away as many weevils as he could, he took a bite, gave it a chew, then swallowed as quickly as he could. 'Eat!'
    Carnelian saw the Ichorian flinch as Osidian looked up at him. The untattoed half of his face darkened.
    'You'll have that bread even if I have to force it down your throat.' It was costing the Ichorian dear to hold Osidian's glare.
    ‘I’l l see he eats it,' Carnelian said, quickly.
    Relieved to have an excuse to disengage from the contest, the Ichorian turned to Carnelian. 'Make sure he does.'
    As the man walked away, Carnelian leaned forward to look into Osidian's face. His eyes were windows giving into an empty house. Carnelian tried to formulate questions. He had so many, wanted to know so much, but Osidian seemed so far away that all Carnelian managed to say was: 'You must eat.'
    Osidian made no sign he had heard. The bread lay in his lap ignored. Carnelian took his own piece and tried to manoeuvre it into Osidian's hands. Carnelian had to close the lifeless fingers round the bread. He stroked them. 'Please ... please eat.'
    The rain running down Osidian's face could have been tears. Carnelian frowned back his own.
    'Eat.'
    The word seemed spoken by another's tongue. Osidian became aware he had something in his hand. He seemed a puppet moving his mouth to it. Carnelian watched him take a bite and chew, his lips stroking the bread, the weevils running down his fingers. Carnelian watched him, waiting until Osidian had finished before he reached to take the other piece that was wedged between Osidian's stomach and his thigh.
    As he ate, Carnelian licked rain from his lips to lubricate the stale mass.
    'I almost escaped today,' he said in a low voice. He looked for a sign of recognition in Osidian's eye, but there was nothing. This time I failed but not the next. We'll be free soon, I promise.'
    Osidian turned to him, vaguely frowning, his lips making shapes. Carnelian was forced to lean his ear close enough to hear Osidian's words.
    'Go if you can. Leave me. I am already dead.'
    At first Carnelian thought