"Here—" Sevri ducked around Star and led Paks down the aisle. "Put your things here—and I'll be around watching, if you'll trust me. You can leave your bundles here too."

Paks looked at the freckled face and wondered.

"They'll be safer here than in your room," said Sevri frankly. "The rooms have locks, but father's fairly sure we have a thief staying with us. Nothing's happened yet, but—I can watch your things, out here."

Paks sighed. "All right, Sevri. I'll be back when I've made my visits."

"Don't miss supper," said Sevri, grinning. "We have good food."

Paks smiled back at her. "I won't miss dinner, not after my journey." She left the stable and entered the inn. The landlord saw her at once and came forward.

"Sevri taking care of you?"

"Yes, sir. She's most helpful."

"Come this way—upstairs—to your room." He turned and led the way across the main room to a broad stone stair. Paks followed, glancing about. The main room evidently served as both tavern and dining room; it was furnished with tables and benches. Half a dozen men were scattered about the tables drinking; two were men-at-arms in blue livery, one was dressed all in black, with a black cloak over trousers and tunic, two looked like merchants, in long gowns, and one was a huge burly fellow in a patched leather tunic over russet hose. Two women sat near the fireplace: the gray-haired one drew out yarn on a hand spindle, while the dark one marked something in a book. Paks went on up the stairs.

A landing at the top of the stairs opened onto a passage on one side and a fair-sized room with pallets in it on the other. The landlord led the way down the passage, past two doors on the left, and three on the right, to stop at the third on the left. He took a ring of keys from his belt and fitted one to the lock. The door swung open silently.

The room was compact but not cramped. A sturdy wooden bedstead with a thick straw pallet on it stood against the left-hand wall. Linen sheets were stretched over the pallet, and two thick wool blankets were folded at the foot. A three-legged stool stood at the foot of the bed, and a low chair of leather stretched on a wood frame stood under the window. A row of pegs ran down both walls of the room, and a narrow clothespress stood beside the door. The walls were whitewashed, the wooden floor scrubbed, and the room smelled as clean as it looked. Paks looked out and saw the the window overlooked the crossroads.

"Will this do?" asked the landlord.

"Oh, yes. It's very nice," said Paks.