Bariyan frowned back. "I couldn't leave you to suffer, not in good conscience. If you'd torn me apart I would not have minded."

Would have preferred, perhaps. Bariyan clasped his hands together to suppress a shudder, and the urge to pick at his stitches again.

"That was hardly any trouble for me, anyway," he said. Was it? Bariyan still was not sure about that, but it had to be said.