“Isn’t he the cheerful one,” said Nallo to the bird, taking courage in irritation. What a prancing idiot that marshal was! “Although by the look of you, I suppose it’s true. Or I hope it’s true.” If she kept talking she didn’t have to think about how scared she was. “If you really wanted to bite my head off, I don’t see how I could escape you.”

Taking a deep breath, she stepped forward. The eagle raked again, but she was slow and jerky.

“Stop that!” She was on her toes ready to bolt with a knot in her throat she had to squeeze the words past. Even so, feeling stuck between all those cursed reeves and fawkners expecting her to do what she didn’t want to do, and the huge raptor looking furious with everyone, made her temper rise even more. If that was possible. But not at the poor bird.

“Here, now, you recall me. We met up in the Soha Hills. You gave the boy shelter, didn’t you, and I appreciate it as I think I said then so I don’t know what you’re slashing at me for now. I never did you any harm!”

It drew up one leg. Its neck feathers eased.

That seemed less threatening. She went on.

“So if you want that wing looked at, you’d best be cooperative. Not that I can’t see that you dislike all of them, and I surely can’t blame you for doing so since they seem an unlikable lot to me, too.”

It lowered its head. A feathered brow ridge gave her a grouchy look, as if she were saying, “What took you so long?”

The hood was bulky, and Nallo tried to sling it over. The eagle lifted her head, and leather spilled off and flopped to the dirt with a thump.

“Be still! Do you want that injury tended to, or not?”

As she bent over to grab the hood, she heard a sharp hiss, a whispering, the shifting of many feet. Rising, she swung around.

All kinds of folk had crowded under the eaves to watch. There were a dozen more fawkners, some armed with staves and long padded spears and hook-bills, and too many reeves and hirelings to count. The eagle lowered her leg to get better purchase on the perch. Nallo sensed her contempt and impatience and pain.

“Yes, may they all rot in the hells, idiot gawkers! Just let me get this thing—oof!—” She heaved. “—up over your head and—” Tugged awkwardly, one leather thong briefly clamped in her teeth to keep it out of her face. “—sheh! keep your head down!—and you won’t have to look at their ugly faces anymore. There!”

The eagle was hooded, although the straggling ends needed tying off. Nallo beckoned to the fawkners. “Don’t just gawp there! How do you fix this thing so she can’t scrape it off?”

Three started forward, including the woman with the torn arm. They grabbed the leather ties at the back of the hood and, while the eagle still had her head lowered, tightened them.