Rae stared at the door. No one came out. The horses—unnervingly—grazed by the garden. The house, but for the smoke that curled from the roof, was silent and still.

Nessa was not frail, but she seemed suddenly… vulnerable. And Mop, with his limp, with his words all mixed… he was vulnerable.

Without thinking further, Rae tore down the hillside. Her shawl flapped around her; she clutched the apron of morels to her chest. It will all be all right, she said to herself. It will all be all right. It will be Myntas in the house, and we’ll cook the morels in oil, and Mop will be happy, and it will all be all right.

Reaching the bottom, she raced along the edge of the meadow, following its curve so she came first to the sheep shelter. She crept along its side, working her way closer to the house. She could hear laughter, uproarious and loud, shaking the small structure. But the laughter did not sound right.

“May I give you some bread or cheese for your journey?” Rae heard Nessa say, her words strained.

“No, no,” said a deep voice, and then she heard them all coming through the door. Rae leapt out of sight. The odd laughter continued.

She peered around the corner. Nessa stood clutching Mop’s hand. Three men, two of them red-faced and chuckling, towered over her parents. Rae, catching sight of the thick leather wrapped about the men’s ankles, grew cold. She had seen boots like these before: the guard at the market. These were men from the king.

“Are you sure there are no children—no families living in the hills?” said the tallest and most unsmiling of the three. Deep half-moons were carved under his eyes. “You must know, the king seeks one who threatens the land. We were ordered to search here.”

“No, we’re all alone—” began Ness, but another, his cheeks still mottled with laughter, held up his hand.

“I want to hear from this one,” he said, pointing at Mop.

Mop shook his head.

“What’s that, then?” said the mottled-cheek man. “I don’t believe I heard you.”

Mop looked at his feet. “Beyond the way it may be not for this the reason I believe above all,” he said quietly.

“Can you say no, old man? Nnnn.” The splotchy man bent over Mop, twisting his mouth into exaggerated shapes. “Nnnn. Ohhhh.”

“N…,” Mop huffed. “N… n…,” He grew red with the effort. “Impossible,” he finally said. “Down here under this for no I’ve never been beyond the way.”

The two shorter men burst into laughter again. Mop’s brow furrowed with shame. Nessa held her lips in a tight line.

Rae could not bear it. Mop. Her Mop. She wiped furiously at her eyes.

“He’s a funny one,” said the splotchy man. “I think he’d be good for the king.” He turned to the tall figure. “What do you think? Better than going back empty-handed. This fellow at least would make good entertainment.”