“There are too many people here. I just hope none of these squabbles end with someone swinging their sword or ax.” Jantalaber smiled thinly. “Or we’ll have even more work to do.”

“Could you ask the prince to take away their weapons?” Par said.

“I could, and he could try, but I suspect that none of the men would hand them over. It’s a horrible thing, when men that need each other so badly begin to fight among themselves. Well, when this blizzard stops, they can go out on patrol. Tire them out in the snow, and they’ll be more peaceful.”

Paraberiel and Hwilli dutifully smiled at the jest, which reminded Hwilli of a problem of her own.

“Par, I meant to ask you,” she said. “Could you take over my patient, Gerontos? His leg’s nearly healed, but someone should look in on him fairly regularly. If the master agrees, of course.”

“I could, certainly,” Par said.

“What’s all this?” The master turned to Hwilli.

“He looks forward too much to my visits. When Nalla was still here, it didn’t matter, but now I hate to be alone with him.”

“Oh.” Jantalaber nodded in understanding. “Very well, Par. He’s your patient from now on.” He paused for a sigh. “I’m glad he’s nearly healed. We’ve got so many new patients among the Mountain Folk that I doubt if our herb supply will last the winter.”

The slow days piled up around them like the snow itself. More than herbs began to run short, despite the extra food taken from the farm folk. The refugees from Lin Rej had brought nothing with them, and the Mountain Folk tended to eat heartily at all times. Prince Ranadar spent much of his time answering complaints and accusations, that the People were hoarding, that the Mountain Folk were greedy, that the fortress was far too cold. Worse yet was the feeling among the prince’s guard that the usual winter catarrhs and rheums were somehow the fault of the Mountain Folk. Hwilli and the other healers explained over and over again that no, the refugees had not somehow brought disease into the fortress, that those minor ills struck every year.

“They’re a bit worse this year, though,” Hwilli admitted to Rhodorix, “but then, everyone’s on edge and frightened, so maybe they just seem worse.”

“I’ll accept that,” Rhodorix said. “I keep telling my men to worry about themselves and their horses and let the prince worry about the men from Lin Rej.”

“That’s probably all you can do. At least the days are getting longer now.”

“That last snow seemed light, too. Let’s hope that spring comes soon.”

Hwilli felt as if her heart stopped, just for a few moments, then started again with a wrench that left her trembling.

“Spring means the war starts up again,” she said.

“Perhaps. If it’s true that the Meradan have been camping up in the mountains, there may not be a lot of them left by spring.”