I washed my hands in a basin near the door and felt the sting of broken blisters. Tuva came in a few minutes later, accepted a bowl from someone, and shouldered up beside me against the wall.
"Marta is only giving us three days of seed and a list of what she'll accept in trade," she said. "She also said if we waste it she'll put us on the road by the next first light herself."
"I'd like to see her try." I replied.
"No you wouldn't." She gave me a stern look.
She was right. I ate.
---
On the third morning a man walked in from the west road with a pack on his back and a limp that didn't slow him much.
He was lean, weathered, somewhere near thirty, with a hunter's eyes and a coat patched in too many places to count. He stopped at the edge of the cleared ground and looked at the turned earth, the partial hall, the forge smoke, and us.
"This still Hedvik?" he asked.
Bjorn, hammer in hand, squinted at him. "What's left of it. You lost?"
