“He became aware of a man drawnalongside them, frozen in stillness evenin the midst of battle, andknew that what had just happened hadbeen seen, and overheard.He turned, the truth on his face. Strippedbare, he could not hide himself in thatmoment. Laurent, he thought, and liftedhis gaze to meet the eyes of the man whohad witnessed the last words of LordTouars.It wasn't Laurent. It was Jord.He was staring at Damen in horror, hissword lax in his hand.”

“Damen pushed himself up on an elbow, and propped his head on his hand, his fingers in his hair. He saw that Laurent was looking at him. Not watching him, as he did sometimes, but looking at him, as a man might look at a carving that has caught his attention.”

“He was not wearing the woollen cap. His newly minted hair was uncovered, and he looked as fresh as he had emerging from the baths the night before, as he had waking beneath Damen's hands. But he had resumed the cool restraint, his jacket laced, his expression disagreeable from the haughty profile to the intolerant blue eyes. 'You're alive,' Damen said, and the words came out on a rush of relief that made him feel weak. 'I'm alive,' said Laurent. They were gazing at one another. 'I wasn't sure you'd come back.' 'I came back,' said Damen.”

“Laurent stopped. Damen could see the moment when Laurent decided to continue. It was deliberate, his eyes meeting Damen's, his tone subtly changed. 'Damianos of Akielos was commanding troops at seventeen. At nineteen, he rode onto the field, cut a path through our finest men, and took my brother's life. They say--they said--he was the best fighter in Akielos. I thought, if I was going to kill someone like that, I would have to be very, very good.”

“This," said Laurent, "is a little more—"It was a word of sharp points: "—intimate," he said, "than ice." "Too intimate?" Damen said. Slowly, he was kneading Laurent's shoulders.He did not usually think of himself as someone with suicidal impulses.”

“Damen hadfound his gaze drawn to the easyarrangement of Laurent's limbs, thebalance of wrist on knee, the long, finelyarticulated bones. He had been aware ofa diffuse but growing tension, asensation almost like he was waiting . . .waiting for something, unsure what itwas. It was like being alone in a pit witha snake: the snake could relax, you couldnot.”

“I want you," said Damen."You've had me," said Laurent. "Twice.I can still feel the . . . sensation of it."Laurent shifted, just so. Damen buriedhis face in Laurent's neck and groaned,and there was laughter too, andsomething akin to happiness that hurt asit pushed at the inside of his chest."Stop it. You will not be able to walk,"said Damen."I'd welcome the chance to walk," saidLaurent. "I have to ride a horse.”