Besh frowned. "You believe so?"

"You don't? Look at this place."

The old man shook his head slowly. True, the but was in such disrepair that a person could easily draw such a conclusion. But Besh couldn't imagine Lici being made to do anything against her will. On the other hand, he had no trouble imagining that she lived in this sort of filth, like a wild creature of the wood.

"I think maybe she simply lived this way," he finally said.

Pyav started to answer, but then stopped himself. Clearly he didn't know what to believe.

Besh began to walk around the room, as did the eldest, their steps making a good deal of noise.

Besh didn't touch anything, feeling that it wasn't his place to do so. Pyav was a bit bolder, but not much. It almost seemed that they both expected the old witch to walk in the door at any moment.

"I thought she had stopped making baskets," Besh said after some time.

"Clearly not."

"But have you seen her sell any?"

"Not in many years, no."

Besh opened his hands, indicating the room. For all the cuttings strewn about on the floor and furniture, there wasn't a single basket in sight. "Then what has she done with them all?"

Pyav just stared at him. "You think she took them with her," he said at length.

Besh nodded. "In which case, she might have just gone to trade with the Qirsi clans, or to sell them in one of the five sovereignties. She could be coming back."

Pyav looked around again, a look of disgust lingering on his features. "But even if she lived this way from day to day, don't you think she would have taken a bit more care before leaving for so long? At least to clean up her cooking, or to throw out her wash water. Something."

"Certainly you and I would do so, my friend. Most people would. But Lici… she's never been like other people. At least not in all the years I've known her."

The eldest nodded. "You may be right." But Besh could see that his thoughts had already gone in another direction. "You won't approve, Besh, but even knowing that she may be alive, that she could return any day now, I want to search this but a bit more."

"To what end?" Besh asked, doing his best to keep his face and tone neutral.

"For too long, people in this village have been spinning yarns about Lici's treasure. I think it's time we put those stories to rest."

"But what if they're true?"

"Do you really believe they are?"

"I don't know." How many times had Besh said that about Lici in the past few days?

Pyav stood chewing his lip for several moments. "If we find gold," he finally said, "we'll leave it where it is and simply tell everyone that we found nothing. But I fear that eventually those people outside will take matters into their own hands, come in here, and take whatever they can find. And I want to know exactly what's at risk."

"All right," Besh said with a small shrug. He gestured toward the far side of her room, where the bed and washbasin stood. "I'll start over here."

In truth, there weren't many places to look. Lici had little furniture and few belongings of any sort. There was an old wooden chest at the foot of her bed that was covered with scuffs and burn marks, as if it had once stood near a hearth. It had a rusted lock on it, but the lock seemed to have stopped working long ago; Besh had no trouble getting the chest open. Inside he found clothes and a few old bound books that might well have belonged to Sylpa, who used to trade for volumes with the peddlers who came through Kirayde. He found as well several pieces of parchment-letters from the look of them. They were tied together with a yellowed piece of twine; Besh left them as they were.

There was nothing to be found under or behind her bed, and the rest of the floor on this side of the but was bare, save for the basket cuttings.

Pyav was still searching the kitchen area, so Besh stepped into a small storage room at the back of the house. Here he found several bowls and cups, none of them as clean as the dirtiest dish in Elica's kitchen. He also found a few baskets, though all of them looked old, and even had they not, there weren't nearly enough of them to explain all the mess in the front room.

Most of the shelves were empty, and had been for some time, judging by the thick dust that covered them. But in the back corner on the floor he spied an old wooden crate. He walked to it and knelt down, pulling it out from under the shelves and brushing away dust and spiderwebs.

Opening the box, he saw a canvas sack that might once have been used to carry one stone of grain. It was closed and tied at the top with the same yellow twine that had been used to bind the letters. And when Besh lifted it out of the box, it rang with the sound of coins. He started to call out to Pyav, but then he spotted something else. In the box beneath the sack, hidden from view until now, was a thick leather-bound volume. Besh put the money sack aside and picked up the book, thumbing through it briefly. It was written in a woman's hand and for a moment he wondered if Lici had kept a daybook as a younger woman. It didn't seem like something she would have done, and the neat writing in the book seemed in such contrast to the state of the woman's home that he found it hard to believe they could belong to the same person. Then again, he hadn't known Lici very well.

He opened to the first entry and saw that the date given was "Fire Moon, year 1119."

1119! Nearly a century ago. This had to have been Sylpa's daybook, not Lici's. He was tempted to begin reading it, right there and then. What a treasure he had found-far more so to his mind than whatever coins jingled in the bag beside him. He could learn so much from this volume about the history of Kirayde, perhaps about his own mother and father.

But wouldn't that have been a violation, as well? Sylpa had left this book in Lici's hands, and for whatever reason, Lici had chosen to keep it private. Reluctantly, Besh returned the journal to the box.

"I found it," he called to Pyay.

A moment later the eldest appeared in the doorway. "Did you really?" Besh held up the sack and shook it.

"Have you opened it?"

"No," Besh said. "It's quite heavy, though. Even if only half of it is gold and the rest silver, I'd say that she's by far the wealthiest person in the village."

"Damn," Pyav said, staring at the sack. "I'd been hoping it wasn't true."

"Do you want to count it?"

The eldest shook his head. "No. The amount is none of our affair. Put it back and let's be done with this place." He glanced over his shoulder. "I keep thinking she's going to walk in on us, and to this day I'm still afraid of the woman."

Besh smiled. "So am I." He put the sack back in the box, and pushed the box back under the shelves. "There was a daybook in that box, too," he said, climbing to his feet stiffly. "I think it might have belonged to Sy1pa."

"I'm sure that would make for interesting reading," Pyav said, leading Besh toward the front door of the hut. "I was still shy of three fours when she died, but I always liked Sylpa."

They stepped out of the house and into the rain. The crowd was waiting Wet pale faces peered at them from under hats and hoods.

"Did you find it?" asked the same fair-haired man who had spoken for them the evening before.

"Find what?" the eldest said, sounding tired.

"Her treasure, of course," came another voice.

"What she considers treasures, you might consider worthless trifles. Remember that, friends."

Several men and women started to object and Pyav raised a hand, silencing them. "I know what it is you want," he said. "And I assure you, Besh and I saw no gold or silver in that house. Now go back to your shops and homes, and leave Lici's house in peace."

It was cleverly done, and Besh wondered if the eldest had anticipated this when he refused to look inside the sack.