Maara.
"Would you ask a blessing?" she asked me. "A blessing on your bow perhaps?"
I don't know what surprised me more, that she remembered my asking for her blessing or that she knew about my bow.
"Little birds," she said.
"What?"
"Little birds come and tell me things."
"Oh." Then I remembered that I had left my bow upstairs. I started to get up, to go and fetch it, but Gnith put her hand on my arm to stop me.
"Your stranger's idea, was it?"
"Yes," I replied. Before she could tell me I should learn to use a sword instead, I said, "It was a good idea."
"Yes, indeed," she said. "A very good idea. How did she come to think of it?"
"You'll have to ask her that."
Gnith's thin lips puckered into what might have been a pout. "She never comes to see me."
Just then Maara entered the kitchen carrying an armload of weaponry. She came over to the hearth where Gnith and I were sitting and set everything down on the floor. She had brought my bow, as well as another for herself, along with an assortment of arrows and two quivers.
Maara sat down cross-legged on the cold stone floor and handed me one of the quivers. Then she picked up an arrow and inspected it, sighting along its length to see if it was reasonably straight and making sure that the stone tip was securely fastened. I followed her example and began to fill the quiver she had given me.
"Is she the one?" Gnith's eyes were on Maara's face.
"Yes, Mother."
"Dark," said Gnith.
Maara's hand paused for the briefest moment before proceeding to slip an arrow into her quiver. She gave no other sign that she had heard what Gnith said.
It was the first time I'd known Gnith to be unkind.
"She can hear you, Mother," I said.
"Of course she can," said Gnith. "She has ears on her, doesn't she?"
"What's that?" said Maara. She cocked her head as if she were listening for something. "A wind through dry leaves? Black water whispering down a cave wall?" She turned to look at Gnith. "No, just the voice of a foolish old woman."
I hardly believed what my ears had heard. When I turned to look at Gnith, I was astonished to see that she was staring wide-eyed at Maara, her face alight with a delighted grin. Then she began to laugh. Her laughter started as a whisper that did sound rather like the wind in dry leaves. Soon it was a chuckle, and then a cackle, and then full-throated laughter that I feared would wake the entire household.
"Why was she laughing?" I asked Maara when the kitchen door had closed behind us.
"She was laughing at my calling her a foolish old woman," Maara said.
"But why did she think that was so funny? Didn't she think you were insulting her?"
"She found it funny because she knew that I know better."
"Oh." I still wasn't certain I understood her.
"Do you believe she's foolish?"
"No," I replied. "I think she's very wise."
"Why?"
"She's given me wise advice. More than once."
"Oh?"
I tried to think of an example to give her. I was going to say that Gnith had given me the binding spell, until I remembered that Maara didn't know about the binding spell. I doubted that I could explain it to her very well, so I said, "She told me how to ask the Lady for the apprenticeship I wanted."
"Did she?"
I nodded.
"Then I am in her debt," she said.
Whatever I had been about to say flew out of my head. Before I got over being surprised, I felt a foolish grin spread across my face and a warm glow begin around my heart. A nagging voice at the back of my head tried to spoil the pleasure her words had given me.
The voice whispered, It's Namet she's thinking of.
I ignored that voice. I wanted to believe something else.
When we reached the bottom of the hill, we turned into a narrow lane. On either side of the lane were fields where the grain had just been harvested, and the hedgerows were alive with birds.
The first light of dawn appeared over the eastern hills. The birds began to wake. The way they sang and twittered almost made me laugh out loud, when I thought of how