She turned so the knife sheathed at her waist was hidden from his view. She ran one hand through her hair and with the other she removed the loop that held the knife in the sheath. She and Legs were going to get out of here. Her mother had told her to take Legs and ride. She should have disobeyed her mother before and fought. But now she’d make up for that. She’d take Legs and stow him in a safe place. And then what? How could she, of all people, rescue Mother?

But that wasn’t important right now. Right now she had to figure out how to deal with this boy. And what if hunters came? It would not do to have them find him sitting there guarding her and Legs. That was not how you treated a visitor. She began to clean up the breakfast dishes. Began to tidy and let her mind work. The first thing she noticed was that he’d placed himself in the wrong part of the house.

“You cannot look out of the windows from where you’re sitting.” When he didn’t respond, she said, “You can’t watch for hunters from that side of the room.”

“You look out the windows and watch for hunters. I’m watching you.”

She nodded in acquiescence. That meant she wouldn’t retreat to the cellar. She didn’t want to do that anyway. If Talen should change his mind, she didn’t want to be caught like a fish in a barrel.

Legs stepped toward Sugar with his hands out. When he found her, he felt for her hand. “Should I go down?” he asked.

It would probably be best. That way she wouldn’t have to worry about him should the situation change. But she didn’t want him to sit down there alone thinking about what she’d just revealed. He needed to know she was strong. That things would be all right. At least that’s what she told herself.

“Stand with me,” she said, “and smell the morning coming in through the windows. We’ll visit the potatoes soon enough.”

The shutters by the dining table looked out over the farm. She pulled them completely open then walked to the the back of the house and opened the shutters on the window there so she had a view of the river.

After a few moments Legs began to hum one of the songs he’d often sang to entertain the men and women of Plum village in the evenings as they sat drinking their ale. It was the one about a stupid boy trying to outsmart a gang of crows. She smiled. Perhaps it was she who needed him.

Legs sang another few songs, then he stopped, and Sugar could see he was thinking. A few minutes later he began again. A half an hour must have passed that way, Legs humming or singing, stopping to think, singing again, all while Sugar tidied up, first breakfast, then the floor, always keeping an eye on the windows. And across from them, Talen sat with his bow at the ready.

Sugar ran through a number of scenarios. She knew if Talen changed he mind and decided to use his bow, that she would pick up a chair as a shield and charge him. He’d only get off one shot that way. It would pierce her body or it wouldn’t. And if it didn’t, then she’d be in close with her knife. However, that wouldn’t solve any issues should hunters show up. They needed to seem friends, and that would never happen with him holding the bow.

She finished the floor, cleaned the ashes from the hearth and put them in the tin ash bucket, then took a good long look out the window. Nettle worked in the distance.

Talen spoke. “What kind of a name is Legs anyway? It’s not like he’s tall for his age. I can’t imagine he’s quick either.”

“No, Zu,” said Legs. “It’s rather hard to be speedy when you can’t see where you’re going.”

Talen looked surprised that Legs had talked. Sugar herself was a bit surprised, but she knew the tone in his voice. He’d made up his mind about something. This was him wanting to make a point.

“Legs,” said Sugar in warning.

“So that means it would be a bit difficult for me to catch and eat you.”

Talen raised his eyebrows. “What’s he going on about?”

“I’m just pointing out the obvious,” said Legs. “And you can talk to me directly if you want. I’m not deaf.”

Talen stood. “Maybe I don’t like the way your eyes slide around.”

“Sorry, Zu,” said Legs. His eyes had been sliding and he closed his lids. “I know all the stories about Sleth. I’ve sung all the songs. I’ve been thinking about them. And you’d expect if my mother had the powers she’s accused of, she would have given me my sight. Why wouldn’t she have done that?”

“What do I know about your mother’s Slethy ways? Ask her yourself when they put you in the tower.”

“It’s because she’s not,” said Legs.

Sugar wished she had Legs’s confidence. But she didn’t want him to provoke Talen further. “Legs,” she said. “We didn’t answer his question.” She turned to Talen. “It’s his nickname. He was born legs first.”

Sugar didn’t tell him that the midwife had said when Legs’s feet first appeared, he’d pulled them back from the cool air in the room and refused to come out. The first time she’d heard that as a girl, she’d laughed and laughed. She had made her mother tell it again and again. The memory of that happy time seemed so far away, so unreal, as if it weren’t true at all, but only a story.

“I think I want to go down now,” said Legs.

“Yes,” she said. “I think that’s a good idea.” And who knew what he’d say next? Lords forbid, but he’d probably try to tweak Talen with some comment about him taking care of Legs’s business earlier.

Legs walked to her, hand in front feeling the way. She took his hand and led him to the cellar door.

When the door was up, Legs turned to her. “I don’t care,” he said under his breath. And she knew he meant he didn’t care even if Mother were Sleth.

“Neither do I,” she agreed, but that was a lie. She did care.

Legs descended the stairs into the darkness with the potatoes. She found leaving the cellar door open put her on edge. Not everyone had such a cellar built into the floor. Many were outside the kitchen. She could see how having it in the kitchen would be handy, and it was not in the way, but she was not used to working so close to such a hole, so she shut the door.

She turned back to the window and knew she couldn’t stand there doing nothing while Talen watched her. “You can hardly make a lunch over there,” she said. “I will make us something to go with that fish. Can you tell me if your sister keeps any savory?”

Talen hesitated. She expected him to say something about poisoning the food, but he didn’t. He pointed at a cupboard. “It’s in there.”

“Thank you,” said Sugar and began washing and cutting vegetables.

When she finished with the vegetables, she found what she needed to make flat cakes. She had her hands in the flour when she glanced out the back window and saw half a dozen Mokaddians wearing leather cuirasses and helms crouching at the top of the riverbank.

Her heart jumped.

A handful of them broke off and approached the house, crouching low as they walked.

These were not Fir-Noy. At least they did not wear the Fir-Noy colors. She couldn’t tell from this distance, but it appeared their wrist tattoos were those of the Shoka. But it didn’t matter-Shoka or Fir-Noy, they were still Mokaddians, still sneaking up on the house.

She drew back from the window so they wouldn’t see her.

From her angle of view she saw the first man run up to the house and take his position at the corner.

She couldn’t catch her breath. The moment she’d been dreading had come and found her making flat cakes. All her mother and father had suffered to give them a chance to escape would now go to waste.

But that couldn’t happen. She wouldn’t let it happen. She didn’t have time to open the door to the cellar, descend, and close it up again.

She looked out the front window and saw nothing but Nettle working the field in the distance.

She whirled round and faced Talen. “Hunters,” she whispered.