First she had to recognize and discard all the distractions of other things going wrong: rotting roofbeams crying out their pain, places where the stone itself had started to crack, or, more often, spots where the mortar between the stones was not what it should have been, shifting the stresses in the entire wall or part of it. But eventually, as Perry initiated silent conversations with mice, she eliminated all those things and settled down for a good, long communion with the stone.

It was suppertime by the time they finished, and for the last quarter candlemark the smell of fresh bread and soup coming from the kitchen had been a terrible distraction. As they crossed the courtyard again, she realized she had been at her task longer than she had thought. It was nearly sunset.

She and Perry went straight to the kitchen door, where Hansa, Tobin’s wife—who clearly served as the cook—had just placed that kettle of soup and a loaf of bread on the table, while a young girl, who must be the daughter, Lori, put out wooden bowls, pottery mugs, and spoons. Like Tobin, their clothing was carefully patched, and their blouses looked to have been turned at least once. Sussena was already at the table, her chair pulled up to it, and a boy about a year older than the girl (that would be Hob) was washing his hands under the pump at the sink. There were five cots stacked up out of the way in a corner of the scrupulously clean kitchen—which was far larger than it needed to be for such a small household, even serving as it did as a communal bedroom as well as its original purpose. In its glory days, this manor must have had a staff of at least twenty people, plus the resident lord and his family.

Larral was under the table, looking perfectly satisfied, so he must have found the hunting to his liking.

Sussena looked at Abi hopefully. Abi shook her head. Sussena shrugged a little and smiled. “It’s a lovely soup tonight,” she said brightly. “Your dog brought us two rabbits to go into it!”

“Rabbits ain’t gonna last long wi’ that gurt beast abaht,” Tobin grumbled.

“Shut up, ol’ fool,” said his wife, in the tones of someone who said that a lot. “Milor’, mileddy, sets where ever ye please an’ hep yersel’. We don’t keep no state ’ere.”

“Cain’t afford no state,” Tobin muttered.

Abi and Perry ignored him, as his wife was doing, although it seemed poor Susenna’s cheeks were never going to be less than a mortified red. They settled down at the end of the table nearest their hostess. The soup was very good, and though the bread might have lacked butter, there was plenty of broth for sopping up, so Abi didn’t miss the butter.

“So where did you look first?” Sussena asked, between bites.

“The dairy,” Abi replied.