“But who ever feels that way after just two days?” Mariya could not stop chattering. “I know that Mother has already spoken with the headwoman of the Oliski tribe about a match with Laoshko Oliski, but—oh, Kiri!—he’s so old, with two wives dead already.”

“Young enough to father children and keep the herds, especially if it’s true he has some special knowledge of husbandry, as they claim.”

“You marry him, then!”

Kirya laughed. “If this Vidrini boy convinces his aunt to make the match, despite all the reasons for his tribe to speak against it, that’s probably what will happen. You’ll get the young one, and I’ll get the old one.”

“You won’t be angry at me afterward? You haven’t even had your Flower Night yet.”

“How could I be mad at you, Mari? The men who look interesting to me are always following after you. Like Orphan.”

“Mother would beat us if she heard you talk about Orphan that way.”

“Never mind, it isn’t your fault. You’re just so much prettier and livelier than I am.”

“I’m being stupid,” Mari muttered. “I’m sorry. I’ll stop going on and on. Look. No, over there. Just past that notch in the slope. There’s a deer.”

“Where?”

“It’s gone below the horizon.” Mariya slid her strung bow out of its quiver and rested it across her thighs, four arrows bunched in her left hand. Out on a hunting trip, they kept their gear ready at all times. Her aspect had shifted, as swiftly as lightning struck. She was foolish and silly and all too often scared of the ripple of her own shadow, but she also had keen sight and the gods’ kiss on every arrow she loosed.

They pushed along the slope, Mariya leading them sidewise as they approached the distant rise.

“Men fall in love faster,” said Kirya in a low voice. “Everyone knows that. Women are more practical. Like in the story of the daughter of the Sun. The war leader fell in love with her the moment he saw her, but she didn’t like him at all. Not until she thought he would die.”

Mariya was no longer listening. “Tss! There.”

She gave the signal for Kirya to swing wide to the left before pulling her own horse toward the right. They separated, moving in a wide circle. The gelding flicked his ears and picked up his pace; like Kirya, he loved being out in the grass. Coming up the rise, she shifted her path to make sure the wind would not carry any hint of her presence to the deer. At length she dismounted and, leaving the gelding with reins loose to the ground, crept through the grass until she could look into the hollow beyond where the beasts had spread out around a sink. The swale was moist enough to nurture a coat of grass and scrub ash. Tails flicking against flies, the deer foraged.

Mariya eased down one of the western slopes to take a position where low ground offered an escape route for startled deer. Kirya scooted back to the gelding, mounted, and made her approach, coming over the rise. A few deer raised their heads, but she kept the horse to a steady walk as she nocked an arrow to the string. On the far slope, Mariya signaled.