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Amnachudran, rather desperately.
    Gereint shut his mouth. Rested his hands on his thighs, deliberately open and easy. Waited.
    “What was it that you
did
?”
    Gereint flinched, he hoped not noticeably. He began to speak, hesitated. Said at last, “If I tell you again I did nothing, you’ll think I’m lying and be angry. I don’t want that.”
    “Just tell me the truth!”
    “You’re waiting for me to lie to you. Are you so certain you would recognize truth, when you’re listening for lies?”
    Silence. Finally, Amnachudran made a disgusted gesture. “Eat your supper. Go to sleep. I’ll think about your request… later. When we’ve gotten to my house.”
    The
geas
could compel Gereint to eat the rest of the fish and drink the tea. But even the
geas
couldn’t force him to sleep, though it could make him lie quietly with his eyes closed.
    * * *
    The morning came watery and pale through the mist that rose from the river and the damp woods. There had been no sign of wolves or griffins or dragons. Or if there had been, it must have been in the small hours near dawn, when Gereint had finally slept a little.
    Amnachudran had coaxed the fire back to life and made tea. He glanced up as Gereint got to his feet. “There’s plenty of cracker. I’m sorry there’s not time for you to catch more fish. But we should be home by evening.”
    Home
. His, of course. Did he mean that it would be Gereint’s home as well? Probably not. Gereint didn’t ask. He went down to the river and washed his face and hands. Came back and began to roll up the blankets and stow away the little pot and other things. Ate a piece of cracker. Drank the tea. He couldn’t tell what Amnachudran was thinking. If he was thinking about anything other than his home.
    “I know you’re much stronger than I am. But I think I could carry—” Amnachudran began.
    “No, sir. That’s not necessary. Just carry the packs,” Gereint said. But respectfully. He inspected the straps on the saddlebags and spent a few minutes lengthening some and shortening the others. “We’re crossing the river, are we? How waterproof are these bags? I brought some tallow candles. If you have a little oil, I can probably improve them.”
    “Thank you, Gereint. Yes. When we stop.”
    Gereint nodded, slung the straps over his shoulders, and straightened. The bags seemed to have grown heavier. He didn’t let himself groan, but only glanced politely at the other man, waiting for him to lead the way.
    The sun came out. The mist lifted. The river dashed cheerfully down the hill beside them. There was even a deer trail to follow. All in all, a pleasant morning. Gereint only wished he was alone, less burdened, and heading the other way.
    On the other hand… on the other hand, he could be in Breidechboden. In Perech Fellesteden’s house. Compared to that, Amnachudran’s house, whatever it was like, would surely prove a perfect haven. Probably the man hadn’t yet decided whether to grant Gereint’s plea. Gereint glanced at him, a cautious sidelong glance. He did not want to annoy him. But he did not seem easy to annoy… Gereint asked, “Is it Tashen? Where your house is?”
    “Near Tashen,” Amnachudran agreed. “My house is out in the country, between the mountains and the city. Near the river, in fact. After the ford, we’ll turn almost due east, walk fewer than ten miles. My house is at the base of some low hills, where a stream comes down year-round. It’s easy country there, open and level, good for orchards and wheat and pasture. The apples are just beginning to ripen now. My wife loves apples; she’s collected dozens of varieties…”
    Gereint made an interested sound, listening with half an ear to descriptions of orchards and gardens and the new pond they’d just built and stocked with fish. Amnachudran was clearly wealthier than Gereint had guessed. And there was a wife. Gereint wondered whether she would object to the presence of a
geas
-bound servant. Would