Would she come to him again? She had been moved by his song; he knew that. But how long would the effect last? She was free now; she had paid her father's debt.

Parry slept irregularly. He had put himself across as an urbane young man of considerable power, and he was that, but this was his first attempt to accomplish a major thing by himself. It was his rite of passage as a sorcerer-and it was something he truly wanted. Jolie was the best possible woman for him in the region; with her he knew he could achieve happiness. There would be a great deal of work to develop her, of course, but there would also be much pleasure in the doing of it. He did not know what he would do if she did not come to him. He had at the moment no other ambition than to bring her to his house and keep her.

He woke before dawn, and dressed and ate and performed necessary tasks, his mind elsewhere.

The day passed with routine chores. One villager had chickens who ranged too far; neighbors had complained and threatened to kill them for their own pots, but the hens were undisciplined and could not be restrained. The man had paid the Sorcerer for a solution to the problem, and the Sorcerer had given the task to Parry for practice. If he bungled it, the Sorcerer would make it right, but Parry intended to handle the matter competently himself.

He pored over his text on law, and in due course found it: a procedure covering exactly this situation. It was not known locally, but had been used in other countries, and it had the force of common law. It was this: the owner of the hens had to stand at the ridge of the roof of his house, and pass his right arm under his left, and reach up and grab his own hair. Then he was to take a sickle by its point, in his left hand, whose motion was at this stage restricted. He would fling the sickle as far as he could, and its landing would define the distance his hens could go with impunity.

It happened that this particular peasant was athletic and coordinated; he would, with a little practice, be able to fling the sickle quite far. That should give his hens enough room to range. The Sorcerer would advise the client of this, privately; then, in a few days, present the procedure. It would be done in public, so that all the villagers would see how the man vindicated his chickens. Once again, the Sorcerer would earn his fee. The Lord of the Manor, seeing the matter settled amicably, would not interfere; he might even come to watch the sickle-throwing himself.

Parry was well satisfied. But as evening approached he became nervous. Would Jolie come? He thought she would, but also he doubted. He had done the best he could to convince her; if it wasn't enough ...