I had missed the Basin. Sometimes carried away by the excitement that accompanied Narsi's exciting lessons, sometimes overwhelmed by the exhausting monotony of the Lemis estate, I had adapted to my new circumstances with ease. Yet, as I climbed the path towards the ridge, and as the morning mist gradually loosened its grip on the moor around me, I felt a strange and happy melancholy overwhelming me. As I had done for Sesh's shack, I had moved away from the Basin. Returning to the path that I had made disappear had the taste of a small resurrection.

I was not alone on the Basin trail. At this time of the year, when the clans were beginning to return, their little horses loaded with exotic foodstuffs, the merchants of Brown-Horn and the intermediaries of the lower-brownian merchants would flock there by dozens to unearth the best deals. After the trade had been concluded, the furs, chitin, amber and other dried aromatics that had been gathered during the year by the families who had remained in the Highlands, all of this would leave by whole wagons to the Brown wharf where noisy sailors would fill the holds of the boats. I had already been passed by two of the carters who offered their services to the traders and one of them even offered me to ride with him. As the weather was good and the trail was not too muddy, I had declined his offer, preferring to make the trip on foot.

At the end of the morning, I reached the granite fragments that stood on the top of the ridge. After glancing back toward the Brown and the few sails that crisscrossed it, I turned away and went toward the tumult of the Basin. The sun was not yet at its zenith, but the camp was buzzing with activity. Here and there, colourful yurts were being set up with a lot of shouting, dogs and children were running between the tents and in the legs of the busy adults. In the horses' enclosure, the animals neighed, frolicking like foals in the joy of meeting their fellow creatures. Groups of tattooed men and women chatted around a dozen campfires, laughing over bubbling pots and meat spits. The traders harangued and quibbled among themselves in front of the piled up goods, boasting loudly about the quality of their products, and bargaining energetically with potential buyers.

I was walking in the middle of this happy mess, with a smile on my face, my nostrils filled with a thousand familiar and tempting smells.

As I ducked under the head of a dun horse being led by the bridle to the corral, I caught sight of Frieze out of the corner of my eye, who was unloading a cart with two other men while conversing with a large, bearded shipowner. I waved shyly at him, and for a moment I thought he would not recognize me or that the embarrassment of having been beaten in front of me would make him turn his head away. Then a smile lit up his craggy face, and the old Chaig put down the package he was carrying and walked towards me. To my surprise, he freed his forearm from his tunic, and offered me a warrior's salute. I clumsily grabbed his hand, and he pulled me toward him. "I have something for you, boy," he said without preamble. There was a clatter, and the merchant placed a round purse in my hand. I mumbled some confused thanks. "It's your share for helping out this winter," Frieze explained before bouncing back. "I heard you got into trouble with the soldiers. I wanted to come and plead for you, but the redheaded swordsman talked me out of it. He said it would do more harm than good. Maybe he was right. I'm glad you're doing well."

I nodded and cleared my throat. "Thank you. Thank you very much, Frieze." I smiled, because I had missed the Clanic's slow intonations too. The old Chaig sniffed, and glanced over his shoulder before wincing. "I have to get back to work, Fyss. I've got three more families looking for a buyer today. Come back later if you want, I'll introduce you to my sons." We exchanged a salute and I made a gesture to indicate that I was satisfied with his gift. Frieze repeated my gesture with a smile, then returned to his load, massaging his back.

I walked a few more spans before sneaking behind a tent so I could count my unexpected fortune without being hustled by passers-by. The purse that Frieze had just given me contained almost five copper denarii, most of them stamped with the Brown-Horn mountain or the Wadd plough. It would have taken a navvy a whole season to earn that amount. I had no idea how I was going to spend this unexpected money, now that I was being fed and lodged at the primacy's expense, but my mind was working furiously to work it out. As I was putting the coins back into the purse, a voice resounded behind me. "Hey, you! Boy!" I turned around, but not fast enough to avoid Dera.

She fell on top of me and squeezed me so hard, I thought she was going to choke me. Then she pulled away, ignoring my embarrassment, and looked at me briefly before bursting into laughter. Because she didn't stop, I ended up laughing too, because her laugh was so contagious. In fact, I was so happy to see Dera again, with her mischievous face and her tomboyish looks, that I didn't care why we were laughing.

I felt as if all the worries I had accumulated during the previous six moons were vanishing with this shared laughter. Dera finally sat down, holding her ribs, her head pressed against the worn felt. "Your hair," she managed to expel after much effort, "they're ridiculous." I ran my hand through my short page haircut. An old lady took care of it every two weeks, and I had finally gotten used to my reflection in Narsilap's tower, but deep down I shared Dera's opinion. I managed to find enough breath to whisper, "I know," which got us going again.

Calm returned little by little and finally we could get up, our eyes red and our belly pinched by painful cramps. We joined the crowded passage while heckling. The familiarity of our manners gave me the impression that we had left each other the day before. Without either of us really thinking about it, we took the path of the moor. We walked towards the forest, walking between twisted stones, kicking dry roots and sheep droppings, as if we had never been separated. For once I was chatting more than Dera. The story of my adventures during the winter seemed to captivate the girl, and she would sometimes stop me to ask me a question or ask me for more details, especially when I mentioned my time in prison. We ended up sitting on the edge of the woods, on that big flat rock that we liked so much, because it was vaguely shaped like a boat if you looked at it from above.

As I told her about Narsi and the skeleton that hung from the beams of his tower, I saw Dera's eyes turn away from me to the white clouds on the horizon. Her chin trembled more and more as I talked, and I interrupted my story as it had become obvious that something was wrong. There was silence. A few steps from our rock, a bird chirped under the foliage. I saw Dera's jaws harden and she swallowed. "Grandma is dead," she finally breathed out in a sad voice. I swore quietly. I hardly knew the old woman who occupied the back of the family yurt, she had tattooed me and that was about it, but it still made me feel something, especially since I knew how much she meant to Dera. I suddenly felt ridiculous and pathetic for having only thought of making myself look good without even checking on my friend. "When did this happen?" I whispered, not daring to look at her. "Just before the end of winter," Dera sniffed, and she crushed a tear with the back of her hand. "A man came into the yurt. It happened at night. We think he wanted to steal something, but Grandma woke up, and she screamed. He..." Dera took a deep breath. "He cut Grandma. He cut her a lot before we could do anything. Dad chased him outside and the warriors killed him."

I quickly looked up, filled with a terrible doubt. "This man," I asked, "wasn't he missing an ear?" Dera shook her head. "No. He looked like a man of the clans, but his marks were not like ours." Her face became moody and her voice became lower. "The old people are worried, because there are strange things happening in the west. They say that the Seïd have found us. But we killed this one, and demons don't die. Dad thinks it's bullshit, and that this guy was more like an exile from the mountains." She coughed, then got up quickly and ended the discussion with a sigh. "I miss her, my grandma."

We played smugglers until late afternoon, when we stumbled across a stand of steel ivy that we soon turned into a snare. We returned to camp at dusk, guided by the glow of the bonfires, and Dera insisted that I eat with her family that night, which was fine with me. The family's yurt was south of the Basin, so we didn't have to cross the camp again, even though the place seemed to have regained some semblance of calm compared to the morning. The slow rhythm of a drum echoed across the moor, and an airy flute tune brought a lump to my throat when the memory of Robin caught me by surprise. It was Vaug who came to meet us, looking both worried and relieved. He greeted me warmly before lecturing Dera on her prolonged absence, then shaking his head he led us both to one of the large fires that lit the ridge. The clans were celebrating their return to Brown-Horn.

I found Rue and Mesh, as well as a dozen other Chaigs whose faces were known to me. We exchanged enthusiastic greetings, which were dulled by the sermon that Mesh gave to her daughter. "We have lost enough relatives for this year," she said sternly. "Remember to let us know the next time you disappear like that." The gloom quickly dissipated, and we ate around the fire, a wild duck killed that very day, with a soup of sprouts and browned black bread. Rue told me about his wintering and deplored the loss of his mother, while Vaug proudly announced that Frieze had decided to take him on as an apprentice and that he would be leaving the family yurt in the coming moons.

Meanwhile, to my great discomfort, Dera was making every effort to make me the center of attention by telling the other guests her watered-down version of my adventures of the past year. Of course, she was trying to show that she was right to give me her first mark, but from the faint smiles that greeted her story, I could see that I was not the only one who found it all lacking in subtlety. To my great relief, she had the presence of mind not to mention anything that could have compromised me in the Lemis family, and for this reason I did not blame her.

The moon was rising in the sky above the assembly and I finally got up. I had already stayed longer than I should have, and if I didn't hurry, I would have to negotiate hard to get the guards to let me back into the castle. Dera looked up at me with a disappointed glance, then pulled at the sleeve of her father's tunic before whispering a few words in his ear. So it was Rue who stopped me by grabbing me by the forearm, and he raised his voice more than he should have, so that his words could be heard by all. "Fyss from Brown-Horn," he said, "it would be an honor for me to offer you the hospitality of my yurt for this night."

It was a very conventional formula, and I immediately understood what he was doing. As I was an apprentice myself, I could be considered no longer a child according to custom, and the way he had addressed me, despite my young age, hinted at the distinction. If I was no longer a child, Rue was free to take me in for the night. I nodded, because I was not happy about the prospect of a night walk, and a few approving murmurs rose from the small gathering. I breathed in to raise my voice, and sputtered the traditional answer. "I accept your generous offer, Rue of the Chaigs." Dera smiled proudly, Rue grunted with content, and I took back my place between them by the fire, where I was served a bowl of barley beer.

The night slowly dissolved around us. There were tales and dances and songs, I couldn't remember the last time I had so much fun. The hermit life I had adopted at the castle since the winter suddenly seemed cold and flat, even futile compared to the human warmth that transpired from the daily life of the men and women of the clans. I didn't regret it, but I was satiated, I drank a lot. The gathering scattered when the moon reached its zenith, and we retired to the yurt. I fell asleep by the fireplace, on a mat that Rue prepared for me, my head full of music and voices. I dreamed of Brindy and the widow Ronna, then there was the sweet squeak of that thing that so often intruded into my dreams and I gave in to its strange refrain.

The next day, Dera shook me a little after dawn. Vaug had already left and a wild cereal soup was warming up on the fire. While I was doing my ablutions in a big bowl of cool water, Dera swirled around me like a buzzing fly, listing in an excited voice all the things we were going to do, before her mother, who was already preparing the bread for the day, asked her to calm down. "I don't think you're going to see the boats today, child. Your father will be back soon and I think he has something else in mind." We both frowned, then Dera protested loudly without getting anything from Mesh other than evasive mimics. As I resigned myself to a day of chores with my friend, Rue pulled down the drapery in the hall.

He made us follow him through the morning camp while Dera asked him dozens of questions. Despite his cheerful and generous nature, Rue had a face whose rough features hardly expressed anything other than implacable harshness, so it was hard to know what he was really thinking. I wondered, therefore, if we were about to face a memorable lesson inspired by our escapade the day before.

Around us the activity of the Basin was resuming, the first carts were arriving from the city and goods were piling up near the yurts. We passed the horses' enclosure and, where the moor was flat and free of rocks, Rue stopped. He pointed to a small rectangular wooden target in the middle of the field, about thirty spans from where we were standing. Dera smiled immediately. Confused, I turned my head to Rue, only to see that he was stringing his shortbow. "I thought you might like to show your friend what you've learned this winter," he said. His tone was authoritarian, but the sparkle in his eyes made me realize it was a game. "Just because Fyss stopped by to see us doesn't mean you'll escape your lessons."

We spent a good part of the day shooting arrows. Dera was delighted to show me her talents, which, although far below her father's mastery, were far superior to mine. Rue did not miss the target once, and he corrected his daughter's mistakes by patiently telling her the reasons for her failures. I did my best to apply these tips, but I must admit that my technique was quite hopeless. I think I touched the boards less than five times in total. The clan bows are short but powerful, made from thick cuts of yew whose wood is worked and tempered to make it flexible, and the muscles developed by the use of the shovel are not the same as those used to stretch a bow. After an hour of effort, I felt as if my arms were going to fall off, while Dera made a series of shots without complaining.

A few other hunters joined us during the day and all praised the girl's talent, which did not help to temper her self-confidence.

We parted late in the afternoon, tired but exuberant, and I obviously promised to come back and see her as soon as I could. She pouted, then hugged me awkwardly. I walked back to the castle, so wrapped up in my thoughts that I barely noticed the walk. My past was obviously far from gone, and that made me think again of the Ronna farm. The road passed under my feet as I walked through my memories. Somehow I came to remember the smoky stalls of the lower town's shops and my first robberies, and realized that it was then that I had lost the love of Brindy.

For the first time, I began to regret my actions.

As my mood took on a distinct gloomy hue, I climbed the back stairs to the creaky floor of my room alone, where I lit the new candle that a maid must have carried there. I sighed sadly as I tried to get my things in some semblance of order. The week before, Narsi had entrusted me with a treatise on rheumatism that I didn't have the heart to unravel, but when I had finished putting away my clean clothes, since I had nothing else to do, I ended up grabbing the parchment. As I sat down at the foot of my bed to study it, I suddenly knew with clarity what I was going to do with the money from Frieze.