‘You’re Orthlundyn; is there anything unusual about this place?’ Yengar asked Yrain and Jenna, looking round at the mountains.
The two women looked around indifferently. ‘We’re not carvers,’ Jenna replied. ‘You know that. That’s why we’re soldiers. We’re both of us the despair of our parents.’ Both she and Yrain mimicked a head-shaking parental tone. ‘Quite rock-blind.’
‘Even so, you’re more sensitive to these things than we are,’ Yengar pressed seriously.
‘Maybe, maybe not, but I can’t feel anything unusual,’ Jenna dismissed the subject as she mounted her horse.
‘Nor I,’ Yrain added.
‘Carvers?’ Marna queried.
‘Great stone carvers, the Orthlundyn,’ Yengar said. ‘They live by farming, but they live for carving. They’ve an amazing instinct for working stone. And how to use light — shad
