“Paks said you’d come back. We worried,” Alis said.

“She taught us lots, while you were gone,” Jedrah said. “So did Captain Selfer. I can figure how many mules for a cohort supply train!”

“And we played outside and learned how to pick caterpillars off the cabbages—and swim—well, some of us—”

“And when Mardi and Seli got in a fight, they weren’t whipped,” Mila said, leaning into Dorrin’s side. “I know you said it would be different, but when you left, I thought maybe it would go back—but—but we’re not scared now. Paks made them share a meal, and now they’re friends again. And we can play with the servants’ children if we want, and they can play with us.”

“And nobody’s been sick all summer, m’lord,” the nursery-maid said. “No fevers at all.”

The children chattered all the way back inside until one of the nursery-maids, catching a nod from Dorrin, sent them all upstairs “so the adults can hear themselves.”

That night, for the first time, the old house felt like home, a home she could want to live in for the rest of her life. Selfer joined them for supper, another link to her old life; he and Paks had become friends, it seemed, in the time she’d been away. After supper, the three squires joined the elders around the table, and they talked late into the night, when a thunderstorm blew up from the north.

Next morning, Dorrin showed the Marshal-General where the old keep had been.

“You did right to burn it out,” the Marshal-General said. “When did you do it?”

“Spring Evener,” Dorrin said. “That’s when Kieri was crowned, too, so I thought of it as a coronation bonfire as well as an offering for the Evener.”

“All good thoughts,” the Marshal-General said. “But now I’d like to see that well Paks was telling me about.”

“We could ride over today, if you want.”

This time she felt no need for an escort, even though some of her relatives were still missing. She left the squires at the house, telling them to familiarize themselves with the house and environs. On the way to Kindle, Dorrin described the village to the Marshal-General. “It won’t look like that in a year or two,” she said. “But don’t expect much improvement. They won’t have had time.”

“You’re trying to make it better,” the Marshal-General said. “I can see that and feel it. How many granges are on your domain?”

“I’m not sure,” Dorrin said. “I know Darkon Edge, of course, because that’s the grange Paks raised for Kieri on the way to Lyonya. The maps I have don’t show grange locations at all.”

“I’ll see that you have a list of those on our rolls,” the Marshal-General said. “If they’re lapsed, would you permit them to be reestablished?”

“Of course,” Dorrin said.

“There’s no ‘of course’ about it,” the Marshal-General said. “You’re Falkian; you might prefer to establish fields instead of granges.”

“Tsaia’s king is Girdish. Some of my friends are Girdish.”