I screamed curses—I am not sure what kind—into the grass and heaved with all my strength, but Pol would not be moved. He only ground my head harder into the dirt until I was exhausted and couldn’t get my breath to yell anymore. The magus went on with a few strokes after that and stopped. When Pol released me, I grabbed his shirt in order to pull myself to my feet. He helped. As soon as I was up, I chopped him under the breastbone and left him gasping while I headed toward the magus. I had never been so angry in my life. Not even in the king’s prison had I been this humiliated. If Pol had not grabbed me by the arm and jerked me backward, interposing himself, albeit hunched over and breathing painfully, between me and the magus, I am not sure what would have happened. The magus had taken one look at my face and was stepping back quickly.

I wasn’t aware of any sound but Pol’s labored breathing as the magus and I stared at each other. My mouth was so full of things I wanted to shout that I couldn’t get any of them out. Which was just as well. If one thing had come, they all would have. How dare he treat me this way? How dare he? Finally I spat in his face. He jumped back further to avoid the spittle, and I turned away. I went to my blankets, where I threw myself down on my face and covered my head with my arms. I rubbed my face into the wool of the cloak rumpled underneath me, and except for that I didn’t move all the time that Pol made breakfast and the others ate and packed up camp.

Pol came over and touched me lightly on the elbow. “Get up,” he said very quietly. He didn’t offer to help me, and I noticed when I did get up that he stayed out of arm’s reach and watched me carefully, his weight forward on his toes.

Sophos was holding my horse. He’d moved it next to a stump that I could use as a mounting block, but I ignored the stump and pushed the horse away from it. Sophos came around the horse’s head to offer me a leg up, but I ignored him as well. I put one foot into the stirrup and jumped onto the horse’s back. I snapped the reins sharply to keep it from sidling, and the horse threw up its head in surprise.

I stopped to take a deep breath and let it out slowly. I could feel my eyebrows pressing together, and my teeth were so tightly clamped that the muscles in my jaw jumped. I took another breath and reminded myself that it wasn’t the horse I was angry at. Nothing but my own ambition was keeping me near the magus. I could walk away from this party of overeducated adventurers if I chose. Neither the king’s reward nor Pol could stop me, but I wanted to be a kingmaker myself. I wanted to be the first one to steal Hamiathes’s Gift in hundreds and hundreds of years. I wanted to be famous. Only I couldn’t steal the damned thing if I didn’t know where it was, and only the magus could find it for me. I would stay with him until he led me to the stone, but I promised myself that someday I would stick a sharp knife into his arrogance and give it a good twist.

The magus and Pol had mounted their own horses.

“We’ll swing west then to the stream and hope to find some kind of village somewhere along it? You think that’s our best chance?” the magus asked Pol.

Pol nodded. The magus stuffed the map he carried in his hand into the bag behind his saddle. “This way then,” he said, and led us through the trees. My horse followed just behind him as usual.

As we rode, I looked back over my anger from a little distance. I’d been so mad that I’d frightened the magus, even with Pol between us. That was a new sort of event in my life, and I relished it a little as the morning passed. I was also pleased that I’d held my tongue. Saying things I shouldn’t has been the origin of most of the painful episodes in my past, and it would certainly be an improvement in my character if I had a little more control over my own tongue.

“Are you okay?” Sophos whispered from beside me.

I looked at him from under my eyebrows, which were still drawn down. “Oh, sure,” I said.

And I was okay. The horse crop hadn’t been heavy enough to do any serious damage. The clothes the magus had supplied me with were thick enough to keep the skin from breaking. I wasn’t disabled. My back hurt, but the fire would fade by nightfall, and whenever we got to wherever we were going, I would still be able to do my job. The magus would never do anything to impair my usefulness.

We came to a shallow river, bordered with scrub, and followed it upstream until we came to a break in the olive groves where other crops had been planted. The magus turned his horse and led us back into the trees.

“There will be a town somewhere close. Pol and I will ride in to get more food. Ambiades, I’m leaving you in charge. For gods’ sakes, don’t take your eyes off the thief.” He didn’t look at me as he spoke, but Ambiades cast a contemptuous glance in my direction.

I noticed that I had ceased to be “Gen” and returned to being a kind of unreliable animal, like a cow that’s prone to wandering away. The magus and Pol left their horses and packs with us and set off up a trail that followed the river into town. What food there was they left in the backpacks and told us to eat for lunch. Sophos opened the bags and took out the bread and some warm sweaty pieces of cheese and handed them around. He gave me a loaf of bread to divide, and I kept most of it before passing the rest on to Ambiades. He protested.

“I didn’t have any godsdamned breakfast!” I snarled, and he backed away. Evidently my anger was still effective. He wasn’t going to bring up the reason I’d missed the morning meal.

After we had eaten the bread and the slippery cheese and were chewing on the dried pieces of jerky, Sophos said mournfully, “I’m still hungry.”

I crossed my arms without saying anything. That was their tough luck.

“We could get some fish out of the river,” Ambiades pointed out. “Pol has fishing line and hooks in his pack.”

Sophos looked over at me.

“Don’t expect my help,” I said.

“We don’t ever expect you to be helpful, Gen, but I’ll bet you’ll want some of the fish if we catch it,” said Ambiades.

“I could fish and you could watch him,” suggested Sophos. I saw that Sophos had also placed me in the category of unreliable livestock.

“You’re terrible at fishing. You jerk the line and lose the bait.”

“I could watch him while you fished.”

Ambiades snorted. “If he got up and walked away, you wouldn’t stop him. No. What we’ll do is tie him up.”

“You will not,” I said.

“How?” Sophos ignored me.

“There’s rope in the magus’s pack. Go get it.” Sophos went while I continued to protest.

“You’re not tying me up. The magus said to keep an eye on me. He didn’t say go fishing.”

“Shut up,” said Ambiades. “It’s your fault there’s nothing to eat.”

“No,” I said. “You’re not going to tie me up.”

I’d been sitting cross-legged on the ground. When Ambiades leaned over me with the rope, I rolled away. He dropped on top of me, across my sore shoulders, and I yelped. He slipped a loop of rope over one of my hands and back, pulling the loop tight over the new pink skin on my wrist where the sores had almost healed.

“Don’t.” I yelped again. I grabbed the rope to keep it from pulling any tighter and tried to slip the loop off, but the rough rope dug into the tender skin. Ambiades yanked on the rope, pulling it out of my hand and tightening the loop.