The handwritten texts lay on the desk, stacked at a slight slope. They had been handled repeatedly over several evenings, added to, then set aside when something interrupted the work. Beorn had the ledger open in front of him and continued moving the charcoal in steady strokes.
Aestrith occupied the couch with her legs folded under her, her attention on the ceiling as if she had chosen not to engage with anything else in the room.
Lewin knocked, then entered without waiting for further instruction. He moved directly to the side table and took his position. He placed his hands flat on the surface and waited.
"There's something I want you to look for," Beorn said, keeping his eyes on the ledger. "An illness. It doesn't present clearly at the start, it looks more like ordinary fatigue."
