She kept walking. It was easier to be out in front, to leave the messiness behind, where she didn’t have to deal with it. Some things couldn’t be fixed, so a person had to choose whether to endure or, if the chance arose, to escape. As for Kem, she had to give him space. She had to be patient and wait for an opening.

For four more days they tramped at a hard pace along the upland path. A new runner went out each day. Every village had youths to run messages between the isolated communities.

The first day, their party passed one Moat and two Ditches, the second day two Ditches only, the third day a cluster of three Ditches. Always it was the same: the villagers lining the path, come rain or shine. The fourth day, they passed only one tiny Ditch, whose census of forty-seven souls all knelt at the side of the path. The haunt touched the head of each child who was present, as if he were giving the children a gift. Certainly the locals felt it to be so. How different it must look to them compared to her memory of her own childhood, when the notice of the master upon a lowly atoner meant bad news.

The fifth afternoon, soon after midday, they arrived at Pisgia Moat, a large settlement colloquially known as Fisherman’s Rest. Built on stilts along the shore of an upland lake, its many drying sheds gave the village a distinctly fishy smell.

The path led straight to a settlement large enough it might be called a small town. What looked like its entire census of 2,139 souls had gathered at the bridge over the ditch that ringed the landward side of the village. The gate drums beat a merry bam bam bam boom in welcome.

“We aren’t stopping, are we?” Simo asked. “There’s still most of the afternoon left.”

“We must stop here. The main path loops northeast on my regular circuit. We’ll take a secret turnoff here onto a side trail. On that trail, there’s no place to shelter for the night. If we depart at dawn, we can get across the Cut before nightfall.”

“If you say so.”

His frown annoyed her. “Captain, have I led you wrong?”

“I would be happier to have a surveyor’s map, so you can show me where we are.”

“I would be happier to carry a surveyor’s map. But I am merely a deputy courier, so the map I use is the map in my mind. Have you any other questions for me?”

“I do not.”

“I have a question, if I may, Captain.”

“Go on.”

“What do you mean to tell the archon, about your business?”