‘I’m tempted to have her attend to you afterward,’ Lull said. ‘Hood’s breath, man – when did you last take a sip of water?’ ‘What water?’ ‘We’ve casks left for the soldiers. You take a skin every morning, Historian, up where the wagons carrying the wounded are positioned. Each dusk you bring the skin back.’ ‘There’s water in the stew, isn’t there?’ ‘Milk and blood.’ ‘If there are casks left for the soldiers, what of everyone else?’ ‘Whatever they managed to carry with them from the Sekala River,’ Lull said. ‘We’ll protect them, aye, but we’ll not mother them. Water’s become the currency, I
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