No lively discussion this time, just an uproar. The furthest anyone in the hamlet ever travelled was four days to reach the winter fair at Bram. It had taken the best part of a year before folk stopped marvelling that Jervale was come from Tabstock, and that two weeks away.

Beside him, Bene sighed. “Go on, then,” she murmured. “I know you have to.”

He smiled, loving her, then wriggled out of his seat. When he couldn’t make himself heard, he climbed onto it and waved his arms till Merrin noticed and banged the meeting gong.

When the uproar was died down to mutters and murmurs, Jervale climbed down off his seat. “I’ll go to Gribley, Merrin, and speak for the hamlet.”

Merrin nodded, pleased. “And a fine speaker you’ll make, Jervale. You’ll take a chiming stone so we can talk on things, and the best cart, and the two strongest donkeys. As much food as we can spare you, which means you’ll need to eat but once a day.”

He wasn’t eating much more than that now. He’d manage, and eke extra on the road. “Yes, Merrin.”

“Chaffie’s all a-bustle. You’ll want to leave at first light. Bene, you’ll bide with this?”

Bene held his hand, hard. “I’ll bide with it, Merrin. For I know Jervale will do the right thing.”

Everyone clustered around him and Bene and Tilly, after. Slapping his shoulder. Wishing him luck. The shock of the news was yet to fade. It was a wonder the hall’s roof didn’t fall in, there was so much loud chatter. As they were leaving, at last, Merrin pulled him aside.

“You be careful, Jervale,” he said, his expression serious. “Ask lots of questions. It’s a boggling thing, what’s happened, and a sad story these mages have told, right enough, but like our Mag noticed, it’s a story with holes in it.” He grimaced. “And I ain’t fond of holes.”

Feeling a warm rush of affection, Jervale patted the old man’s arm. “Never fear, Merrin. I’ve my Tilly to think on. I’ll not bare our throats to any wolves.”

Not if he could help it, anyway. Not unless his dreams told him to. And even then, not without a fight.

Leaving Bene and Tilly was a misery. The whole hamlet gathered to see him go, and most everyone pressed a little something into his hands. A shrivelled apple. A boiled egg. A few elderly, withered carrots. Food they could hardly spare, that he couldn’t refuse for fear of hurting them. Tam and Rinna gave him a flask of precious barley wine. Kissing his wife for the last time, Jervale murmured into her ear.

“Stay close to them, Bene. They’ll need you soon.”

She pulled back, her eyes full of grief and understanding. Three babes, they’d lost. This was Tam and Rinna’s first.