Refreshed by a quick morning bath and a change of clothes, and fortified with strong, heavily sugared coffee, Jared stepped outside and wondered which would be more dangerous: asking Thera if she intended to make breakfast or having the men combine their limited cooking skills and risk her sharp-tongued wrath if the food was only marginally edible. Although, with Polli gone, Thera would need more help than Cathryn could give her, and no one expected a Queen to do chores, even though the Gray Lady had surprised them all by doing her share before she injured her knee. So Thera’s new helper would have to be male, and she’d just have to choke on it.

Jared smiled. Maybe they could draw straws every morning. Short straw got to help Thera for the day. That would certainly start the mornings off with a kick. And since everyone would have an equal chance, no one could resent him for getting stuck with the duty.

Still smiling, he started walking toward the pedlar’s wagon. The air had a crisp, clean bite to it, and the sky, for the first time in days, held no threat of rain.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jared noticed Tomas trotting toward him from the direction of the privy hole. He raised his hand in greeting, but his smile faded when he saw the boy’s worried expression.

Spiders and other insects were to be expected in a little wooden structure that enclosed a hole in the ground, although the herb bags that were hung in the corners not only freshened the air but seemed to discourage crawling company. Even though he hadn’t seen them, there were probably mice around—maybe even rats.

Jared stiffened. Ordinary rats could be enough of a nuisance, but disturbing a nest of viper rats could be deadly. And young boys weren’t always sensible.

He could still feel the sharp fear that had jabbed at him the summer his brother Davin had been bitten by a viper rat; could still remember how the venom had caused the six-year-old boy’s forearm to swell grotesquely. Even with Reyna’s healing skill, Davin had been ill for several days.

“Tomas?” Jared searched the boy’s face for any sign of illness or injury. “What’s wrong?”

Tomas didn’t look back at the privy hole. His worried brown eyes fastened on the wagon. “They’re both feeling pissy this morning.”

Jared sighed, both annoyed and relieved. “So what else is new?”

“I—I think Thera’s sick. She acted real funny when I asked them if they wanted some coffee. And the Gray Lady didn’t say nothing either, and you know she likes coffee.”

Yes, he did. Jared had never thought of coffee as a sensual experience until he’d watched the Gray Lady drink her morning cup.