Elein slowly rose to his feet, his whole body straining against him. The deep ache in his muscles reminded him of the time he had been dragged behind his horse. He stretched out welcoming the warmth of the sun on his skin.

Baruht shrugged back into his baggy shirt. Elein noticed the angry red lines that criss-crossed the hairy chest before they vanished under the dusty linen. Apparently being a bear didn’t mean that he was invulnerable. The big man noticed Elein watching. “Welcome back, tiny Prince.” Then he laughed a harsh, barking sound.

The noise got the attention of the rest of the group. The twins stopped piling robe-swathed bodies on top of each other and regarded Elein with blank faces. Though Ristul was kneeling, hands clasped, eyes closed in comtemplation, he cocked his head. Neff leaned against her knobby staff as if it was all that was keeping her upright. No one had more than a few scratches on them.

Hands pushed him from behind.

“While we were fighting, where did you go?” Sahlina demanded.