water hauled me back into the waking world. ‘Jal? Jal?’ ‘Is he going to be all right?’ A reply in their heathen tongue. ‘… soft these southerners …’ ‘… bury at sea—’ More nonsense words in northern gibberish. Another bucket. ‘Jal? Talk to me.’ ‘If I do will you stop pouring seawater over me?’ I kept my eyes shut. All I wanted to do was lie very still. Even moving my lips seemed too much effort.
