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that she would mind being with Hurst, if that was asked of her, he was a sweet man, but she’d always hoped it would be Jonnor, or at least that she would have a choice. But she couldn’t begin to explain any of that.
    Instead, looking at the ground, Mia said, “We were all quite content.”
    “My dear child! What a timid little mouse you are. Well, perhaps it’s for the best.” She paused, then took Mia’s arm again, patting her hand. “Yes, indeed. But now things will be different. Such a change for you! But you must be careful, and not allow too many liberties, if you understand me. Oh, you’re such an innocent child, aren’t you? I mean, of course, that you must keep to Jonnor, and not allow… well, I know it’s for all three of you to decide, of course, but you must make your voice heard. You must convince Jonnor not to allow the other one near you.”
    “The other one? Do you mean Hurst?”
    “Hurst, that’s it. Better not to, you know.”
    “But… Hurst is my husband, too.”
    “Well, of course, of course, but… my dear, since we’re alone let’s speak frankly. You wouldn’t want a child like that, would you?”
    “Like… like Hurst? Why ever not?”
    “Oh, but…” She tittered. “I suppose you don’t see it, but… so ugly, and that leg…”
    Had Mia ever thought him ugly? He wasn’t handsome like Jonnor, certainly, but he wasn’t so bad looking. When she’d first met Hurst, she’d thought him an intimidating man, the limp rather disconcerting. Probably that was just his age, for he was twenty -six to her fifteen, a Skirmisher with battle experience against the Vahsi. Once she got to know him better, she stopped noticing his looks, especially when he smiled and the corners of his eyes crinkled pleasingly. The limp was just part of him, and she never thought about it.
    “The leg was a childhood illness,” she said eventually.
    “But there must be a susceptibility, a weakness. Take my advice, dear, stick to Jonnor. Much better babies.”
    ~~~
    Brothers and sisters were not obliged to visit after a death, but many of them did so anyway. Two of Hurst’s older brothers came from a nearby Karning, slapping the men vigorously on the back, and drinking vast amounts of wine. Mia’s sisters came in twos and threes, wearing the white sash of mourning, accompanied by all their Companions, who filled the guest hall with tears and reminiscences and emotional hugs, clustering in big gossipy groups. It cheered Mia hugely, and only partly because of the constant bustle and activity.
    Later came Mia’s own parents from the northern border, a tiring journey, which left them exhausted. Mia noticed for the first time that they looked almost old – her vigorous father, always riding off somewhere at speed, and her energetic mother, never still, suddenly had grey hair and wrinkles. How had she never seen that before? Mia hugged them both, and cried a little, not for Tella this time, but for her own happy childhood and the sheer pleasure of seeing them again.
    “Goodness, but it’s cold here,” Bellissa said. “Have you anywhere we can warm ourselves?”
    There were few places in the stone-built Karninghold free from chills and drafts, even in high summer. Mia had grown used to the damp southern air, but for her parents, newly arrived from the warm north, it was torture. Mia took them through to the inner hall, where a fire burned year-round, and rugs and wall hangings kept the heat in. She arranged chairs close to the fire and wrapped them in shawls.
    “Tell me everything that’s been happening,” Mia said eagerly.
    “Oh, the usual,” Kendron said. “The Vahsi have been quite active this year, but they haven’t caught us at a disadvantage yet.” He gazed around the room at the many large wall hangings, pocked with moth holes and faded with age, depicting great victories against the plains barbarians. “These are strange images of them.”
    A savage race they looked, with their antlered