‘What’s the food like?’ said Laurent, his eyes on the table. Damen tore off a piece of bread, and held it like a treat to a house cat. ‘Try it.’ Laurent looked at the bread, and then he looked at the men by the fire, and then he looked at Damen, a long, cool look that would have been difficult to hold if Damen had not had, by now, a great deal of practice. And then he said, ‘All right.’ It took a moment for those words to penetrate. By the time they did, Laurent had settled next to him on the long bench. Laurent straddled it, facing Damen. Laurent was really going to do it.
