{26}
Erodius MoureauxIf you keep making that face, it will stay like that, Biahnd mewled.
Santha gave the little dog a sardonic look. I’m not making a face, she snipped and went back to scrutinising the large parchment spread out on the serving table.
Three days and nights had passed since Madame Vorsha had taken them in. The chill of alban-arthuan was on the city’s doorstep and spoke of long, harsh months to come. Alban-eiler, the season of change, when the cold relinquished its hold over the land and new life sprung forth, would come late this year.
Biahnd’s recovery under Vorsha’s care had been unnaturally swift, considering she had been unconscious for over a week with no food and only a trickle of what water Santha had managed to force down her throat. A day was all it took for th
