'Thanks, Horace,' he said briefly. Then his eyes went back to Halt and he began eating the food mechanically.

Around sunset, Halt's eyes opened again. For a moment or two, he looked around, puzzled, as he tried to remember what had happened, why he was lying here with Will huddled in his cloak beside him and dozing. Then it came back to him. He glanced down at the loosely bandaged arm. He could see the swollen, discoloured flesh and feel the throbbing heat that shot through it. A cold hand clutched his heart as he realised what had happened to him.

He made a small sound in his throat and Will's head shot up as he instantly came awake.

'Halt!' he said, relief evident in his voice. The older Ranger made a small gesture with his right hand. A short distance away, Abelard's ears pricked up and he whinnied briefly, moving closer to the recumbent figure. The small horse hadn't moved more than a few metres from his master's side in the past three hours.

Halt grinned weakly up at him.

'Hullo, old friend,' he said. 'Been worried about me, have you?'

Abelard moved forward and leaned his head down to nuzzle Halt's cheek. Halt said a few words to him, speaking in Gallic, as he often did when he was talking privately to Abelard. Watching the simple interaction between them that said so much about the bond they shared, Will's eyes filled with tears once more. But this time, they were tears of relief.

Finally, Halt gestured with his uninjured arm, gently shooing Abelard away.

'Off you go, boy. Will and I need to talk a little.'

The horse backed away a few paces. But his ears were still up and he was still alert to any move or noise that Halt might make. Will edged closer and seized Halt's uninjured hand. The return grip was surprisingly weak and he felt a thrill of alarm. Then he dismissed it. Halt had been close to death. He would take some time to recover.

'You're all right now,' he said.

Halt glanced around, trying to see more of the camp site. 'Is Horace here?'

Will shook his head. 'He's out setting snares. There's a pond nearby where he thinks ducks might settle at dusk so he's gone to try his luck. We're getting short on fresh food.' He dismissed the unimportant matter of Horace and their provisions with a quick gesture. 'My god, Halt, it's good to see you awake again! We thought we'd lost you for a while. But now you're on the mend.'

He caught the quick flash of apprehension in Halt's eyes, instantly masked, and suddenly a horrible doubt struck him.

'Halt? You are all right, aren't you? Of course you are! You're awake and talking. Maybe a little weak but you'll get your strength back and before you know it we'll be…'

He stopped, aware that he was babbling, aware that he was talking to convince himself, not the bearded Ranger who lay before him. There was a long silence between them.

'Tell me.'

Halt hesitated, then glanced down at his injured arm. He drew a deep breath before he spoke.

'You understand that the bolt was poisoned, don't you?'

Will nodded disconsolately. 'I guessed as much. I should have thought of it earlier.'

But Halt shook his head gently. 'No reason why you should have. But I should have at least considered it. Those blasted Genovesans know all about poisons. I should have realised that it wouldn't be beyond them to dip their crossbow bolts in it.'

He paused. 'I vaguely remember going a little crazy. Did I think the Temujai were after us?'

Will nodded. 'That's when we really got worried. Then you galloped off in the wrong direction and fell off your horse. You were unconscious when I reached you. I thought you were dead at first.'

'I wasn't breathing?' Halt asked.

'No. Then you gave a sort of huge sigh and started breathing again. That's when we thought to look at your arm. It only occurred to me then that it had been bothering you all day.'

He briefly described the condition the arm had been in and, at Halt's urging, what actions he had taken. His teacher nodded thoughtfully as he described how he had cleaned the wound again and applied the warmweed-derived salve to it.

'Yes,' he said thoughtfully, 'that might have slowed it down a little. Warmweed tends to have a few other properties besides reducing pain. I've heard that some people have used it for treating snakebite – which is a pretty similar thing to this when you think about it.'

'And it worked?' Will asked. He didn't like the way Halt paused before he answered.

'Up to a point. It slowed the effect of the venom. But the victim still needed treatment. The trouble is, with this sort of poison, I don't know what the correct treatment might be.'

'But Halt, you're improving! You're so much better than you were this afternoon! I can see you're recovering…'

He stopped as Halt laid a hand on his arm. 'That's often the way with these poisons. The victim seems to recover, then he has a relapse. And each time, after each bout of consciousness, he's a little worse than before. And gradually…' He stopped and made an uncertain gesture in the air.

Will felt he was staring into a deep, black hole before him. The realisation of what Halt was saying constricted his throat so that he could barely talk.

'Halt?' he choked. 'Are you saying you're…?'

He couldn't finish the sentence. Halt said it for him.

'Dying? I'm afraid it's a distinct possibility, Will. I'll have bouts of consciousness like this. Then I'll pass out again. Each time, I'll take a little longer to recover. And each time I do, I'll be weaker than the time before.'

'But Halt!' The tears gushed from Will's eyes, blinding him. 'You can't die! You mustn't! How could I manage without…' Suddenly he was beyond speech and his body was racked with great sobs. The tears coursed down his face unheeded. He hunched forward on his knees, rocking back and forth and making a terrible keening sound in the back of his throat.

'Will?' Halt's voice was weak and it didn't penetrate Will's grief. The older Ranger took several deep breaths and gathered his strength.

'Will!'

This time the familiar bark of authority was there and it cut through to Will's consciousness. He stopped rocking and looked up, wiping his eyes and streaming nose with the hem of his cloak. Halt smiled at him, a tired, crooked little smile.

'I promise I'm trying my best not to die. But you have to be prepared for it. The next twelve hours or so will be the critical period, I'd say. If I feel stronger tomorrow morning, who knows? I might have beaten it. Dealing with poison isn't an exact science. Some people are affected worse than others. But I'll need all my strength to fight it and I'll need you to be strong for me.'

Red-eyed and ashamed of himself, Will nodded. His back straightened. Weeping and wailing would do nothing to help Halt.

'I'm sorry,' he said. 'I won't let that happen again. Is there anything I can do for you?'

Halt looked down at his injured arm. 'Maybe change that dressing in another hour or so. And use a little more salve. How long since you put it on?'

Will considered the question. He knew that the salve couldn't be used too often. 'Four, maybe five hours.'

Halt nodded. 'Fine. Give it an hour then put some more on. Not sure if it'll help, but it can't hurt. Maybe a little water now if you've got some?'

'Of course,' Will said. He unstoppered his canteen and propped Halt up so that he could drink slowly. The bearded Ranger was experienced enough to know that he shouldn't gulp the water greedily.

He sighed as the water trickled through his parched mouth and throat.

'Oh, that's so good,' he said. 'People always underestimate water.'

Will glanced quickly at the camp fire, where the coffee pot sat in the embers to one side.

'I can get you some coffee if you like. Or soup?' he suggested. But Halt shook his head, lying back against the saddle, padded with his own folded cloak, that was serving as his pillow.