“Well, those won’t do. Teren, measure him for boots, there’s a dear, while I get some temporaries.” She whisked back out again while Teren had Skif pull off his shoes, made tracings of his feet, then measured each leg at ankle, calf and knee, noting the measurements in the middle of the tracing of left or right. By the time he was finished, the Housekeeper was back with a pair of boots and a pair of soft shoes. Both had laces and straps to turn an approximate fit into a slightly better one.

“These will do until I get boots made that are fitted to you,” she said briskly. “Now, my lad, I want you to know that there are very strict rules about washing around here.” This time the look she gave him was the daggerlike glare of a woman who has seen too many pairs of “washed hands and arms” that were dirty down to the wristbone. “A full bath every night, and a thorough washup before meals—or before you help with the meal, if you’re a server or a Cook’s helper. If you don’t measure up, it’s back to the bathing room until you do, even if all that’s left to eat when you’re done is dry crusts and water. Do you understand?”

“Yes’m,” Skif replied. He wasn’t going to point out to this woman that a dirty thief is very soon a thief in the gaol. That was just something she didn’t need to know.

“Good.” She took him at his word—for now. He had no doubt he’d be inspected at every meal until they figured out he knew what “clean” meant. “Now, I don’t suppose you have any experience at household chores—”

“Laundry an’ mendin’ is what I’d druther do; dishes, floor washin’, an’ scrubbin’ is what I can do, but druther have laundry an’ mendin’,” he said immediately. “Can boil an egg, an’ cut bread’n’butter, but nought else worth eatin’.”

“Laundry and mending?” The Housekeeper ’s eyebrows rose. “Well, if that’s what you’re good at—we have more boys here than girls, so we tend not to have as many hands as I’d like that are actually good at those chores.”

Her expression said quite clearly that she would very much like to know how it was that he was apt at those tasks. But she didn’t ask, and Skif was hardly likely to tell her.

“This boy is Skif, Chosen by Cymry,” Teren said, as Gaytha got out a big piece of paper divided up into large squares, each square with several names in it.

“I’ve got you down for laundry and mending for the next five days,” Gaytha said. “Teren will schedule that around your classes and meals. We’ll see how you do.”

“Off we go, then.” Teren said, and loaded Skif’s arms with his new possessions.