Mari’s smile grew grim. “I’d outstrip the worst wrath of Great-aunt Palai.” She sat up and slipped the knives away, then nodded at Fawn. “But I think it’s different for her.”

“It’s all strange to me.” Fawn frowned, staring at the blue-hilted knife. “I have no happy memories about this to balance the sorrows. But they’re my memories, all the same. I’d rather they weren’t…wasted.”

Mari raised both hands in a gesture of frustrated neutrality.

“So could I have leave from the patrol to travel on this matter?” asked Dag.

Mari grimaced. “You know how short we are, but once this Glassforge business is settled, I can’t very well refuse you. Have you ever drawn leave? Ever? You don’t even get sick!”

Dag thought a moment. “Death of my father,” he said at last. “Eleven years ago.”

“Before my time. Eh! Ask again when we’re ready to decamp. If there’s no new trouble landed in our laps by then.”

He nodded. “Miss Bluefield’s not fit to travel far yet anyway. You can see by her eyelids and nails she’s lost too much blood, even without how her knees give way. No fever yet, though. Please, Mari, I did all I could, but could you look her over?” His hand touched his belly, making his meaning clear.

Mari sighed. “Yes, yes, Dag.”

He stood expectantly for a moment; she grimaced and sat up, waving to a set of saddlebags leaning in the corner. “There’s your gear, by the by. Luckily your fool horse hadn’t got round to scraping it off in the woods. Go on, now.”

“But will you…can’t I…I mean, it’s not as though you have to undress her.”

“Women’s business,” she said firmly.

Reluctantly, he made for the door, though he did scoop up his arm harness and recovered belongings. “I’ll see about getting you a room, Spark.”

Fawn smiled gratefully at him.

“Good,” said Mari. “Scat.”

He bit his lip and nodded farewell. His boot steps faded down the hall.

Fawn tried not to be too unnerved by being left alone with Mari. Scary old lady or not, the patrol leader seemed to share some of Dag’s straightforward quality. She had Fawn sit quietly on the bed while she ran her hands over her. She then sat behind Fawn and hugged her in close for several silent minutes, her hands wrapped across Fawn’s lower belly. If she was doing something with her groundsense, Fawn could not feel it, and wondered if this was what being deaf among hearing people was like. When she released Fawn, her face was cool but not unkind.