[Nurumaiel]

Motan watched Saeryn with the look of disgust ill-concealed on her face, but Mereflod, giving a gallant little smile, went and patted the young woman on the back until, with a cough and a gasp, she sank back on her pillow. Then Mereflod got down on her hands and knees and began to clean up the mess on the floor, with hardly a blink. She was aware of the importance of the task her mother and Mistress Bethberry had appointed to her, and she was resolved to do her task as well as her mother herself.

"Don't be 'fraid of the trolls," said Motan softly, recovering from her disgust and laying a little hand on Saeryn's arm. "My papa will never let 'em get you. 'E's very big and strong, and 'e's not 'fraid of the trolls. 'E'll make 'is big stallion bite the troll, so 'e will!"

She grasped the blankets and carefully pulled herself on the bed and sat there, looking down at Saeryn with wide eyes. She continued to stare for some time, and then, when Mereflod finished her unpleasant task and came around to the other side of the bed, Motan looked up at her older sister and murmured in a rather loud undertone: "I think this girl been bitten by a mad dog." And then she turned to Saeryn with a very wise face. "There are mad dogs about, and when they bite you they make you get mad, too. They make you very sick."

"Hush, Motan!" said Mereflod. "She hasn't been bitten by a mad dog. She's just sick. And if she had been bitten by a mad dog, you wouldn't tell her all the bad things that would happen to her. That wouldn't keep her quiet, and Mistress Bethberry wants us to keep her quiet."

"Oh," said Motan, and she looked at Saeryn with mournful eyes. "You haven't been bitten by a mad dog?" she inquired dolefully.

"Do you like music?" Mereflod questioned, casting her sister a slightly annoyed look. "I like music. My sister Maercwen knew a man called Hearpwine, and he played a harp and sang. And my uncle Liornung knows how to play the fiddle so beautifully, and he knows the most beautiful songs. My brother Gomen wants to learn how to play music and sing, too. And I think - " and here she lowered her voice to a whisper of conspiracy " - that Maercwen was in love with Hearpwine."

Motan put her hands over her mouth and giggled.

"Mamma says that she wasn't," Mereflod went on, forgetting to whisper, "but that they were just good friends. But I think Mamma was wrong. Maercwen was very sad when Hearpwine left and they were always singing and laughing and talking together. Once they went out of the Inn to go to a singing contest and when they left they were holding hands!"

Though Mereflod and Motan had discussed this in secret with many giggles in the past, that did not keep Motan from gasping with wide, horrified eyes at this truly sinister secret.

"But," said Mereflod, lowering her voice again, "don't tell Mamma I said that." She put her hand in her face and struggled to stifle giggles for some time, and at last she had composed herself, her eyes once again earnest. "Do you like music, Miss Saeryn?"