Cutter dropped down into the compound. He walked to the gates and lifted the bar clear, then pulled the heavy doors open.
Greyfrog was waiting on the other side. 'Dispirited and distraught. So much unpleasantness, Cutter, in this fell place. Dismay. No appetite.'
He edged past, scuttled warily towards the nearest corpse. 'Ah! They seethe! Worms, aswarm with worms. The flesh is foul, foul even for Greyfrog. Revulsed. Let us be away from this place!'
Cutter spied the well, in the corner between the outbuilding and the temple. He returned to where the others still waited outside the gate.
'Give me your waterskins. Heboric, can you check that outbuilding for feed?'
Heboric smiled. 'The livestock were never let out. It's been days. The heat killed them all. A dozen goats, two mules.'
'Just see if there's any feed.'
The Destriant headed towards the outbuilding.
Scillara dismounted, lifted clear the waterskins from Felisin Younger' s saddle and, with her own thrown over a shoulder, approached Cutter.
'Here.'
He studied her. 'I wonder if this is a warning.'
Her brows lifted fractionally, 'Are we that important, Cutter?'
'Well, I don't mean us, specifically. I meant, maybe we should take it as a warning.'
'Dead priests?'
'Nothing good comes of worship.'
She gave him an odd smile, then held out the skins.
Cutter cursed himself. He rarely made sense when trying to talk with this woman. Said things a fool would say. It was the mocking look in her eyes, the expression ever anticipating a smile as soon as he opened his mouth to speak. Saying nothing more, he collected the waterskins and walked back into the compound.
****
Scillara watched him for a moment, then turned as Felisin slipped down from her horse. 'We need the water.'
The younger woman nodded. 'I know.' She reached up and tugged at her hair, which had grown long. 'I keep seeing those bandits. And now, more dead people. And those cemeteries the track went right through yesterday, that field of bones. I feel we've stumbled into a nightmare, and every day we go further in. It's hot, but I'm cold all the time and getting colder.'
'That's dehydration,' Scillara said, repacking her pipe.
'That thing's not left your mouth in days,' Felisin said.
'Keeps the thirst at bay.'
'Really?'
'No, but that is what I keep telling myself.'
Felisin looked away. 'We do that a lot, don't we?'