"I gave them my word," he said. "And what good would it do to kill them?"
He closed the door again, muffling the racket. He picked up the leather bottle and drank thirstily. "Ah! But did they also have some food fit to eat on that ship?"
"I do not know. I prepared what I could from the stores here." Hwicca pointed to a bowl of stew. "I fear it got cold while you slept."
Eodan lowered the bottle. The roof was so low his head had to bow down to hers. "Why are you here?" he asked.
"You should not sleep unguarded." She touched the knife in her girdle. His longsword lay drawn by the wall. He realized that he was unclothed.
"Phryne could have guarded me," he said.
Hwicca reddened. "Is Phryne your wife?"
"Are you?"
She gasped and turned her back. "Well, I will go!" she cried. "If you do not wish me here, I will go!"
"Halt!" he said as she caught at the door's bolt. She stopped as though speared and turned about until she stood against the door facing him. Tears whipped down her face, and the breath rattled in her throat.