“I’ll not see another man starve when we’ve enough,” Jarren growled, turning back to the others behind him.
“We’ve some seed at the Hold,” Pinnor said. “We’d be happy to share.”
“We needed seed two Turns back,” Jarren said. He waved to the distant plains. “There are fields out there lying fallow for want of seed.”
“We can provide it. Just let me know what you need, and we’ll see what we can do,” Pinnor said, reaching up to Xhinna who handed him down his pack full of slates and writing tools. He glanced around. “It’s hot out and I really need a place to lay out my work …”
“Come with me, Storemaster,” Jarren said. He looked pointedly at the crowd. “The rest of you—back to work. There’re fields to plow, crops to plant.”
After Keogh, they went to Campbell’s Field and found it just as inhabited and bountiful. When Pinnor had finished there, it was getting dark.
“We should return,” he told Xhinna. “Lady Nerra will want to know what we’ve discovered.”
“And we can use some rest,” Tormic added. Beneath them, Tazith rumbled in agreement.
“I’ve found them,” Jirana announced when Xhinna returned from the last of the holds a sevenday later. “We can go now.”
Xhinna was especially tired, as the day before she and Jirana had finally ventured forward in time to plant a large chiseled marker near Tenniz’s cairn. It had been the Storemaster’s suggestion to shape a stone into a wide prism with their message for the future inscribed on all sides. The message was simple: “Back three turns in Western. Send help.”
“Found whom?” Xhinna asked, rubbing a sore knot on her neck as she peered down at the young girl.
“The Candidates,” Jirana said as though it were obvious.
“Oh, you did, did you?” Xhinna said. “All on your own, without the help of either me or my blue?”
“Well, you were busy,” Jirana said with a shrug.
“To hear Nerra tell it, you were quite busy yourself,” Xhinna said. “Or was it some other trader girl who spent all her time nursing the sickest back to health?”
“It wasn’t just me,” Jirana said. “Elsith was there, too.” She made a face. “They don’t have a healer—their healers all died in the Plague.”
“The Plague was hard,” Xhinna said.
“That’s when you lost your parents, wasn’t it?”
Xhinna nodded.
“I’m sorry,” Jirana said. She moved to wrap her arms around Xhinna’s waist.
Xhinna gave her a half-smile and a quick hug. “And I suppose Lady Nerra will just let us take these Candidates away?”
“Weelll … maybe we should ask her,” Jirana allowed, then added in a rush, “But I’m sure she’ll say yes.”
“Is this the Sight?”
Jirana groaned. “No, it’s just—well, you’ll see.”
“And where will I see?” Xhinna asked teasingly.
Jirana flushed and bristled. “The Great Hall,” she said. “We’ll meet them in the Great Hall.”
She grabbed Xhinna’s hand and dragged on it.
“And what of Nerra?”
“She’s in the Great Hall, too,” Jirana said, tugging harder and suddenly falling forward as Xhinna stopped resisting her.
“Well, why didn’t you say so?”
“Arnnff!”
The Great Hall was much cleaner and more cheerful than when Xhinna had first entered it. Bright new tapestries had replaced the old, dingy, fire-smoked ones; the floor was well swept and the glows were fresh and plentiful. The atmosphere in the room was cheerful and relaxed.
Nerra sat at the end of the Hall on the raised dais in the central chair. She was listening intently to two holders who were entreating her on some matter when Xhinna and Jirana entered from the back. Catching sight of them, Nerra straightened and made a graceful gesture to the two holders. “Will you excuse me for a moment?”
The holders followed her look and nodded in assent, stepping to the side as Nerra jumped out of her chair and rushed over to Xhinna. As she approached, she asked Jirana, “Are you certain?”
Jirana nodded and Nerra gave her a wry look. To Xhinna she said, “You’ll be leaving us?”
“We need to complete our Search and return,” Xhinna told her.
Nerra nodded, then caught Jefric’s eyes and motioned him over. The large man, newly appointed captain of the Hold guard, moved swiftly and quietly, giving Xhinna a polite nod and tousling Jirana’s hair. The youngster made a face and batted his hand away.
“You know,” he said to Xhinna with a measuring glance at Jirana, “if you wish, we could keep her here.”
“I think her mother would object,” Xhinna told him easily, playing along.
Jirana made a growling noise in her throat, and Jefric smiled and tousled the girl’s hair again.
“Jefric, would you bring Jirana’s guests here?” Nerra asked. Jefric nodded brusquely and strode off. Nerra turned to Xhinna. “If you’ll wait here, I’ll conclude this other business.”
Xhinna waved a hand in agreement and, placing a hand on Jirana’s shoulder, drew back to the tapestries lining the side of the hall.
Nerra’s business with the two holders took only a few moments more. Bowing, they left, seeming happy with Nerra’s pronouncement. Once they were gone, Nerra jumped down from her chair and came over to Xhinna.
“I’m glad that’s over!” she said. “I’ve managed to sort those two out to their satisfaction, which is more than they’d hoped.” When neither Xhinna or Jirana spoke, she explained, “Those two are—were—in contention over who should take over one of the abandoned cotholds.”
“Is there much fighting like that?” Xhinna asked.
Nerra shook her head. “Sadly, no.” She saw Xhinna’s look of confusion and explained, “I’d rather have more who were eager to restart a hold than those who are too listless to—” She broke off at the sound of approaching footsteps.
Jefric led a group of four into the room. They stopped at Jefric’s order, and he came to join Nerra, glancing down toward Jirana as he asked, “Are these the ones?”
“Yes,” Jirana said.
Xhinna eyed the small party and tried to hide her dismay. They were quiet, grouped in a small knot except for one girl with dirty-blond hair who stood apart from the others. They seemed to be in their teens, one just barely.
The girl who stood apart looked at Xhinna idly, nearly with contempt, but then did a double take when she saw Xhinna’s rank knot. She seemed to recognize it, and her gaze went to the doors at the end of the Hall as though seeing through and beyond them to Tazith.
That one for certain, Xhinna thought, seeing the longing in the girl’s hazel eyes. The girl was still gawky with adolescence, likely to have fourteen Turns, maybe somewhat more. Xhinna guessed she was an orphan of the Plague. The girl met her gaze and lifted her chin with feigned pride; Xhinna had made that same pose herself too many times not to recognize it for what it was.
“Alimma,” Jirana said, moving forward, “this is Xhinna. She rides in Search.”
“Search?” Alimma repeated, her eyes shining briefly with hope, then dimming. “Did you want me to find you some likely boys?”
She is one, Tazith said with a certainty that surprised his rider.
Two are meek—they’ll ride greens but fight well; the other is strong but hurt.
“No, thank you,” Xhinna replied, tousling Jirana’s head as she added, “The looking’s already been done.”
Alimma’s eyes lit.
“Which one of you knows how to handle fractious children?” Xhinna asked, eyeing them carefully.
“I do,” the thinnest of them replied. She had a haunted, fragile look about her. She looked starved, gaunt. Xhinna thought that she could put on at least a stone or two in weight if given the chance.