Mai was still sipping, looking almost cross-eyed with nausea, trying to hold it in.

Avisha looked up, straight into the gaze of the captain. Finally, she had caught his interest, and she straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin and felt that her ears were going to burn off, only they didn’t. “For instance, you’ve got a nice stand of tallowberry over in that corner.” She pointed with her elbow. “Mama would say, ‘Inedible, good tallow for candles, oil pressed from the seeds good for varnish or paint and can be used as lamp oil although poor quality, residue of dry cakes with oil pressed out is good for fertilizer, also soap.’ The wood carves well, and can be burned for incense. The leaves produce black dye if boiled in alum . . .”

He smiled so suddenly it made her heart jolt.

“Choose wisely,” he said, transferring his gaze to Mai. “They’re not all of equal worth.”

Avisha flushed, seared as though by lightning. He had already turned his back, and anyway, a man like him was far beyond her reach. While Priya fussed, he went inside, followed by the big man talking about sheep and wool.

“That’s better,” said Mai, sitting back with a sigh. “I thought sure it would all come out.”

Priya set down the cup, then examined Avisha. She had a dark gaze so deep it seemed to go on forever. When she touched Avisha’s hand, tears stung in Avisha’s eyes although she didn’t know why.

“You’ll stay with us,” said Priya. “Won’t you?”

Tears spilled, and she began to laugh as much as cry, for it was raining finally, a mist that smeared the dirt and pattered among the leaves, presaging a fiercer storm to come.

“You’ll want a bath,” added Priya with a kind smile. “Once you’ve gotten it all out.”

“I just didn’t think—”

“There, now,” said Mai. “I have to interview all those women. Later, if you feel able, maybe you can point out to me the ones who were talking about coin.”

“O-Of course.” She gulped several times and found she could swallow, she could breathe, she could think. She fixed her jaw, braced herself. “I’m so grateful. B-But I’ll need a contract. So I have a chance to choose a husband from among the s-soldiers—” Or Keshad, if he would have her. Thinking of him made her skin scald with heat because she was so stupid, but she was alone, the only one the little ones had left. She had to proceed as she knew Nallo would, by being forceful and bold. “—and that I’m assured n-no one will change his mind and throw me out. The children have to come with me and be treated as full kin, not debt slaves having to work to offset the expense of keeping them.”

Mai laughed. “I do like you. Is there anything else?”

To think of her father was to yearn for him, to wish the gate might open and he, with his gentle smile and with a half-braided cord in hand, would walk in to greet her. The grief of knowing he was truly gone had not lifted, and she supposed it never would. Yet she had hope she could raise the children, and honor their father’s memory by doing so.