His gaze flickered. "Well enough. But if you're planning to stay here long, you'd best find a master can vouch for you." Before Paks could think of anything to say, he had pushed back his stool and gone, his cloak swirling. Her stomach clenched with anger. Why did they all think she was a brigand, trying to cause trouble? Then she thought of the wandering fighters in Aarenis—perhaps they had had trouble here, though she had not heard of such in the north. She took a deep breath to calm herself and settled to her meal.

Hebbinford, as he came back past her table, had a smile for her. "Did I hear Master Feddith growling at you? Don't take offense; he's on the Council here, and we've had some trouble. I hear you visited our Master Oakhallow and Marshal Cedfer this afternoon—no wonder you were late. They say Marshal Cedfer alone can take up half a day, with his drills and lectures."

"Does everyone here think fighters are bad?" asked Paks.

"Well—no. Not all fighters. But we've had those come through that were: got drunk, broke things, started fights with local boys, even robbed. You've known some like that, surely."

Paks nodded.

"So, you see, we've got careful. As long as nothing happens, you're welcome, but we don't want the street full of idle blades looking for mischief."

"I can see that."

"Now, Sevri tells me you're quiet-spoken even to servants, and Master Oakhallow had nothing against you, so—" He broke off as someone yelled across the room, smiled again, and left. Paks finished eating. It had been too long since she'd eaten well-cooked food. She finished with a slice of bread drenched in honey. Most of the men-at-arms were gone, and the rest were leaving, throwing down coppers and silvers as their boots scraped on the stone. Paks decided to check on Star before going up to bed; she found the pony dozing, wisps of hay dangling from her mouth. She went up the stairs to her room, tired, full, and determined to put off tomorrow's worries until tomorrow.

The bed was so soft that at first she could not sleep. Her room was far enough from the common loft that she heard nothing from it, but boots rang on the stone outside the inn from time to time. Even with the window open to the cold night air, it seemed strange to be sleeping inside again.

Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

She woke at first light, to the clatter of small hooves in the road below. Looking out, she saw a herd of goats skittering along the north road. She looked east, at a clear dawn lightening over the hills, and shivered in the cold. Minutes later she was downstairs. The innkeeper was poking in the fireplace, and she could smell fresh bread from the kitchen.

"You're an early one," he said, surprised. "Did you want breakfast now?"