"I wonder if they are still inside the hut." He grinned as he watched her rise to take away the bloody rag and water.

"I lost my bees," she reminded him sadly.

"We will go burning for more," Burrich comforted her.

She shook her head sadly. "A hive that has worked the whole summer makes the most honey." At a table in the corner, she took up a roll of clean linen bandaging and a pot of unguent. She sniffed at it thoughtfully. "It doesn't smell like what you make," she observed.

"It will probably work all the same," he said. A frown creased his brow as he looked slowly around the room. "Molly. How are we to pay for all this?"

"I've taken care of it." She kept her back to him.

"How?" he asked suspiciously.

When she looked back at him, her mouth was flat. I'd known better than to argue with that face. "Fitz's pin. I showed it to the innkeeper to get this room. And while you both slept this afternoon, I took it to a jeweler and sold it." He had opened his mouth, but she gave him no chance to speak. "I know how to bargain and I got its full worth."

"Its worth was more than coins. Nettle should have had that pin," Burrich said. His mouth was as flat as hers.

"Nettle needed a warm bed and porridge far more than she needed a silver pin with a ruby in it. Even Fitz would have had the wisdom to know that."

Oddly enough, I did. But Burrich only said, "I shall have to work many days to earn it back for her."

Molly took up the bandages. She did not meet his eyes. "You are a stubborn man, and I am sure you will do as you please about that," she said.

Burrich was silent. I could almost see him trying to decide if that meant he had won the argument. She came back to the bed. She sat beside him on the bed to smear the ointment on his back. He clenched his jaws, but made no sound. Then she came to crouch in front of him. "Lift your arms so I can wrap this," she commanded him. He took a breath and lifted his arms up and away from his body. She worked efficiently, unrolling the bandaging as she wrapped it around him. She tied it over his belly. "Better?" she asked.

"Much." He started to stretch, then thought better of it.

"There's food," she offered as she went to the table.

"In a moment." I saw his look darken. So did Molly. She turned back to him, her mouth gone small. "Molly." He sighed. He tried again. "Nettle is King Shrewd's great grandchild. A Farseer. Regal sees her as a threat to him. He may try to kill you again. Both of you. In fact, I am sure he will." He scratched at his beard. Into her silence, he suggested, "Perhaps the only way to protect you both is to put you under the true king's protection. There is a man I know… perhaps Fitz told you of him. Chade?"

She shook her head mutely. Her eyes were going blacker and blacker.

"He could take Nettle to a safe place. And see you were well provided for." The words came out of him slowly, reluctantly.

Molly's reply was swift. "No. She is not a Farseer. She is mine. And I will not sell her, not for coin or safety." She glared at him and practically spat the words. "How could you think I would!"

He smiled at her anger. I saw guilty relief on his face. "I did not think you would. But I felt obliged to offer it." His next words came even more hesitantly. "I had thought of another way. I do not know what you will think of it. We will still have to travel away from here, find a town where we are not known." He looked at the floor abruptly. "If we were wed before we got there, folk would never question that she was mine…"

Molly stood as still as if turned to stone. The silence stretched. Burrich lifted his eyes and met hers pleadingly. "Do not take this wrong. I expect nothing of you… that way. But… even so, you need not wed me. There are Witness Stones in Kevdor. We could go there, with a minstrel. I could stand before them, and swear she was mine. No one would ever question it."

"You'd lie before a Witness Stone?" Molly asked incredulously. "You'd do that? To keep Nettle safe?"

He nodded slowly. His eyes never left her face.

She shook her head. "No, Burrich, I will not have it. It is the worst of luck, to do such a thing. All know the tales of what becomes of those who profane the Witness Stones with a lie."

"I will chance it." He spoke grimly. I had never known the man to lie before Nettle had come into his life. Now he offered to give a false oath. I wondered if Molly knew what he was offering her.

She did. "No. You will not lie." She spoke with certainty.

"Molly. Please."

"Be quiet!" she said with great finality. She cocked her head and looked at him, puzzling something out. "Burrich?" she asked with a tentative note to her voice. "I have heard it told… Lacey said that once you loved Patience." She took a breath. "Do you love her still?" she asked.

Burrich looked almost angry. Molly met his stare with a pleading look until Burrich looked away from her. She could barely hear his words. "I love my memories of her. As she was then, as I was then. Probably much as you still love Fitz."

It was Molly's turn to wince. "Some of the things I remember… yes." She nodded as if reminding herself of something. Then she looked up and met Burrich's eyes. "But he is dead." So oddly final, those words coming from her. Then, with a plea in her voice, she added, "Listen to me. Just listen. All my life it's been… First my father. He always told me he loved me. But when he struck me and cursed me, it never felt like love to me. Then Fitz He swore he loved me and touched me gently. But his lies never sounded like love to me. Now you… Burrich, you never speak to me of love. You have never touched me, not in anger nor desire.

But both your silence and your look speak more of love to me than ever their words or touches did." She waited. He did not speak. "Burrich?" she asked desperately.

"You are young," he said softly. "And lovely. So full of spirit. You deserve better."

"Burrich. Do you love me?" A simple question, timidly asked.

He folded his work-scarred hands in his lap. "Yes." He gripped his hands together. To stop their trembling?

Molly's smile broke forth like the sun from a cloud. "Then you shall marry me. And afterward, if you wish, I shall stand before the Witness Stones. And I will admit to all that I was with you before we were wed. And I will show them the child."

He finally lifted his eyes' to hers. His look was incredulous. "You'd marry me? As I am? Old? Poor? Scarred?"

"You are none of those things to me. To me, you are the man I love."

He shook his head. Her answer had only baffled him more. "And after what you just said about bad luck? You would stand before a Witness Stone and lie?"

She smiled a different sort of smile at him. One I had not seen in a long time. One that broke my heart. "It need not be a lie," she pointed out quietly.

His nostrils flared like a stallion's as he surged to his feet. The breath he drew swelled his chest.

"Wait," she commanded him softly, and he did. She licked her thumb and forefinger. She swiftly pinched out all but one candle. Then she crossed the darkened room to his arms.

I fled.

"Oh, my boy. I am so sorry."

I shook my head silently. My eyes were squeezed tight shut, but tears leaked from them anyway. I found my voice. "He will be good to her. And Nettle. He is the sort of man she deserves. No, Verity. I should take comfort in it. To know he will be with her, caring for them both."

Comfort. I could find no comfort in it. Only pain.

"It seems a very poor bargain I have made you." Verity sounded genuinely grieved for me.

"No. It's all right." I caught my breath. "Now, Verity. I would it were done quickly."

"Are you sure?"

"As you will."

He took my life from me.

It was a dream I had had before. I knew the feel of an old man's body. The other time, I had been King Shrewd, in a soft nightshirt, in a clean bed. This time was harsher. I ached in every joint of my body. My gut burned inside me. And I had scalded myself, on my face and hands. There was more pain than life left in this body. Like a candle almost burned to the socket. I opened my eyes stickily. I sprawled on cold, gritty stone. A wolf sat watching me.