[Envinyatar]

She has a pretty enough smile, he thought, looking closely at her face. But there is no warmth in it. And her eyes are cold, and wary. Curious how her eyes slide toward Silvanis. Some old business, perhaps. And none too pleasant to her.

He took a step beyond her, blanket in hand, moving toward the stall. Derufin shook the loose straw from the old blanket. Folding it in thirds, he hung it over the edge of the partition, smoothing some non-existent wrinkle from the wool.

Not a word passed between the two others, who stood looking at one another a few feet from him. He would have laughed at the incongruity of the silent tableau amid the ongoing noises of the beasts in the stable, high and low, save for the fact that the woman seemed perched on the edge of some hidden precipice, and the man had a keen, wolvish look which flickered through his eyes – a hunter, his quarry brought to bay.

Derufin stepped back to her side. ‘I had not thought you would take the blanket. And what of it if you should? The stable is warm, there are not many horses boarded here at present. We can spare a blanket for a guest . . . or for a worker.’ He raised his brows in query.

‘My stable boy has gone off to Waymeet. Hand-fasted to his sweeting just this past week. Won’t be back either, if I have the right of it. Her parents like to keep their children close.’ His gaze traveled over her thin, wiry frame. ‘You look strong enough, and I could use the help. I have carpentry work to get done, and I fear that both the animals and the roof and walls are getting short shrift from me. What say you?’