the residents of the steadholt , it seemed , had not died alone , and tavi felt a helpless little rush of vengeful satisfaction he spat toward the lead marat the lead marat looked up at him , head tilted to one side , then turned to the younger one and drew a line across his throat the younger dropped the torch 's flame into the snow , quenching it the marat leader dropped the heads and then swarmed up the knotted cord back onto the saddle he turned to tavi and stared at him for a moment , then leaned over and touched a spot on the saddle that tavi had n't been able to avoid staining when he got sick the marat lifted his fingertips to his nose , wrinkled it , and looked from tavi to the silent , bloody forms in the snow he nodded , his expression grim , then took a leather flask from a tie on the saddle , turned to tavi , and unceremoniously shoved one end of the flask into his mouth , squeezing water out of it in a rush tavi spluttered and spat , and the marat withdrew the flask , nodding then he tied the flask to the saddle and let out another low whistle the line of gargants moved out into the night , and the spare marat swung up behind another rider further down the file tavi looked back to find his captor studying him , frowning the marat looked past him , back toward the steadholt , his broad , ugly features unsettled , perhaps disturbed then he looked back to tavi again tavi puffed out a breath to blow the hair out of his eyes and demanded , his voice shaking , `` what are you looking at ? ''