head. He no longer trusted himself with alcohol, not since the day he’d gone to the home of Adrianos and butchered him like a stag.
Wicks settled himself with exaggerated care by his side, resting his back against the wagon wheel. ‘All this bloody marching,’ he muttered as he massaged a foot. ‘My soles are killing me.’
‘This is nothing. You’re lucky we’re not pushing even harder.’ Even as Bull spoke he felt the ache of his own feet and back, and knew they would only worsen before they got better. He was in poor condition after a year in the cell, never mind that he’d tried to maintain his condition.
‘Nothing, he says. And me with my feet in tatters.’
In the distance Bull heard a roar of men, the second time now he’d heard them.
‘What is that? Is there a fight?’
‘Aye. They’re at it again, the Greys and the Volunteers. Two bareknuckle champions this time.’
Wicks looked about him with his large eyes sparkling in the firelight. He was bored, Bull could see. The lad wanted some mischief to occupy himself for a while. It reminded Bull of his own restless boredom.
He sighed, and took the skin of wine from the young man; allowed himself one long satisfying pull from it before tossing it back.
‘You know, I saw you fight once. The time you became champion of Bar-Khos.’
‘I hope you bet on me to win.’
‘I wish I had. But I thought you were just another contender like the rest of them. You lost me a full purse of stolen coins that night. Though I’ll say it was worth it, just to see you fight. I thought you were going to kill him in the end.’
‘I was. If they hadn’t stopped me.’
‘I can’t believe it’s really you. The real thing, right here in front of me. The greatest fighter in all of Khos. Unbelievable.’
Bull swept the whetstone along the edge of the blade, ignoring the lad now. It had been a long time since a stranger had offered their admiration to him. Once, he had relished such praise, had felt validated in every way by the respect of so many.
Now it was only a reminder of how fickle most people really were.
‘They’re talking about us again,’ said Wicks casually with a nod to the fire. The men around it were trading words in low voices. Old Russo, the veteran of Coros, cast a one-eyed glance in their direction.
His accusing stare caused Bull to grind his rotten teeth together. He felt the satisfying throbs of pain deep inside them.
‘Find yourself a whore yet?’
‘No,’ Bull admitted. ‘None of them will touch me.’
‘They probably think you’ll strangle them where they lie.’ Wicks laughed drunkenly at the thought of it.
‘Don’t laugh at me, boy. I’ll have your eyes out if you laugh at me.’
The lad seemed to sober up for a moment; his grin faltered. Wicks sprawled onto his back, surprising himself with a belch. ‘You can’t take a joke, champ. That’s your problem.’
Bull felt momentarily chastened by his words. He knew the young man was right.
He couldn’t help but like this lad. Wicks reminded him of his younger brother: feckless and afraid of no one. He’d been one of the few to approach Bull and converse with him during the march so far; a thief playing at being a soldier, he’d told Bull, as he showed him the branding scar on his wrist, told him how he’d been released from a military stockade on the day the army had marshalled outside Bar-Khos.
Bull looked at the wineskin in his hands and said, ‘I thought you were skint. Have you been thieving again?’
‘I went swimming,’ he told Bull. ‘Over by the temples. If you go when the sun’s still up you can see the coins lying along the riverbed.’
‘You fool,’ growled Bull. ‘It’s bad luck to steal people’s offerings. You want to bring a curse on your head?’
Wicks waved his hand. ‘What difference does it make? They throw the coins away and never see them again.’
There was no point trying to explain it to him. The lad simply had no concept of tradition or belief.
Again that roar of throats in the night. It sparked a decision within him.
Bull climbed slowly to his feet.
‘Where are you going?’ Wicks asked in sudden interest.
‘To pick a fight,’ he told him as he cast his cloak aside. ‘Want to come?’
‘Wait a minute,’ said Wicks, and tried unsuccessfully to get to his feet. Bull had to help him up in the end. ‘We should