On this third day, as the sun started its slow descent in the west and they waited for Cresenne to come to their shelter again, Besh asked Sirj if the two of them should have their supper alone that night.

"Why?" Sirj asked, clearly puzzled by the suggestion.

Besh shrugged. "I thought that maybe…" He stopped, frowning slightly. "I don't know if it's hard for you to be with Cresenne and Bryntelle. If it makes being apart from Elica and the children even worse."

"Nothing could make that worse than it already is," Sirj said in a low voice, staring off across the sept.

Besh put his hand on the man's shoulder. "No," he said. "I don't suppose it could."

"I like going," Sirj said. "She's a good woman. She and Grinsa… they belong together."

For a moment Besh thought that Sirj would say more. But he didn't and Besh didn't see any need to belabor the point. When Cresenne appeared in the distance a short time later, he raised a hand in greeting and when she neared, he and Sirj stood to greet her.

They didn't talk about much as they walked back to her z'kal. Besh asked her about what work she had done that day, but she didn't have much to say. She seemed quieter than usual, though her daughter was chattering enough for all of them. Since the first night they had supped together, the girl had taken a special interest in Sirj. Cresenne said that she thought that it was Sirj's dark, wild hair and beard, which were so different from the white hair of the Qirsi and even from Besh's grey. She didn't think that the babe had ever seen anyone who looked like the young Mettai.

Whatever the reason, the girl peered at Sirj as they walked, her pale eyes as wide as they could be, a faint smile on her perfect little mouth.

After a few moments of this, Cresenne said, "Would you like to hold her?"

Sirj looked at the woman, a slightly panicked expression on his face. "Hold her?"

"You have children, right?" she said. "You've held babies before." Besh fought hard to keep from laughing.

Cresenne stopped walking and held out her daughter for Sirj to take. He hesitated a moment and then took the child in his arms. She let out a delighted squeal and immediately grabbed hold of his beard with both hands.

"Bryntelle!" Cresenne said, laughing.

"It's all right," Sirj said, looking up from Bryntelle's face. "It doesn't hurt. At least not much." He grinned, but there were tears in his eyes.

"All right," Cresenne said. She glanced at Besh, her expression pained.

They walked on, and had nearly reached Cresenne's shelter when the woman abruptly halted.

"Damn," she said under her breath.

Looking in the same direction she was, Besh saw the n'qlae standing in front of the shelter, her arms crossed over her chest.

"What do you think she wants?" Besh asked in a whisper.

Cresenne shook her head, her lips in a tight line. "I don't know. But she and her husband don't seem to like any of us very much. Better let me do the talking."

He nodded. Cresenne took the baby back from Sirj and they walked on.

"Good evening, N'Qlae," Cresenne said, stopping in front of the woman.

The n'qlae nodded to Cresenne and then, after hesitating for just a moment, nodded to the two Mettai as well.

"Is something wrong?" Cresenne asked. "Has something happened?"

"I've had no word from the a'laq, if that's what you mean."

Cresenne appeared to relax somewhat. "Then what can I do for you?"

"I've noticed that the three of you sup together each night," the woman said.

"What of it?" Cresenne demanded, her voice hardening. "Is that why you've come? You think we're plotting against your sept? I would have thought that after the a'laq's dream the other night you'd know better." She shook her head. "You and your people will never trust me, will you? Just as you'll never trust these men, though they've saved your life and that of every person in this sept."

Besh had some idea of how the Fal'Borna honored their a'laqs and n'qlaes, and he feared that Cresenne had pushed the woman too far. But the n'qlae's expression hardly changed, except for a vague smile that touched the corners of her mouth.

"Are you through?" she asked.

Cresenne blushed. Abruptly she seemed unwilling to look the woman in the eye. "Yes."

"I've noticed that the three of you sup together each evening, and I was wondering if you would join me tonight in my z'kal. The food would be little different from what you've been eating. And like you," the n'qlae said, looking at Cresenne, "I'm without my man right now. I grow tired of supping alone every night."

There was a lengthy silence. Sirj caught Besh's eye and raised his eyebrows. The n'qlae was smiling again.

"I owe you an apology, N'Qlae," Cresenne said at last.

"Yes, I believe you do. But I also believe that settles an old debt. We won't speak of it again."

"Thank you, N'Qlae."

"Come along then," the n'qlae said after another brief silence. "I'm hungry, and it's too cold to be standing out here doing nothing."

They followed the woman back to her shelter. A fire already burned within, and there were several bowls of food arrayed on the far side of the shelter… Some of it was similar to the food Besh and Sirj had eaten with Cresenne in recent nights: smoked rilda meat, boiled roots, and flat bread. But there were also dishes that Besh didn't recognize, including some sort of dried fruit that smelled wonderfully sweet.

They sat by the fire and the n'qlae began to pass the bowls around, urging her guests to take as much as they wanted.

As the bowls made their way around the circle, the n'qlac pulled out a small flask, unstoppered it, and poured a small amount of golden liquid into four cups.

"What is that?" Sirj asked.

The woman grinned. "Sweetgrass whiskey," she said. "Usually I only drink it with E'Menua. But you're guests, and I've been thinking about it all day."

She passed a cup to each of them.

When Cresenne took hers, Bryntelle reached for it and looked down into the cup.

"She wants some, too, eh?" the n'qlae said, and laughed.

Besh sniffed at the cup and was entranced. It smelled like sweet clover and honey and wine all mixed together. "What did you say this was?" he asked in amazement.

"Sweetgrass whiskey," the n'qlae said. "It's the one thing we Fal'Borna won't trade with the Eandi or even with another Qirsi clan. Our people make it here on the plain and only a few know how it's done. We have to trade for it with other septs, because no one in this sept can make it. We rarely share it with outsiders. Few who aren't from our clan have even tasted it."

"You honor us, N'Qlae," Besh said.

She waved off the remark. "I wanted some, and I didn't want to drink it alone." She winced. "I didn't mean that as it sounded."

Besh smiled. "I think I understand."

Sirj lifted his cup to his lips, but before he could drink, the n'qlae raised a finger.

"Slowly," she warned. "It's very strong."

Sirj nodded, took a sip, and nearly choked.

Cresenne was the next to try it, and though she managed not to cough or spit it out, her eyes widened and her cheeks flushed. Bryntelle tried to grab hold of the cup, but Cresenne held it beyond her reach.

"You next, Mettai," the n'qlae said to Besh, a friendly smile on her face.

Besh took a sip and made a face that he imagined must have been very similar to Cresenne's. The whiskey was pleasantly sweet, but the flavor was nearly lost in the burning sensation on his tongue and throat.

The n'qlae nodded approvingly and then sipped from her cup. She swallowed and inhaled deeply through her teeth, but otherwise seemed unaffected.

"I think I need to try that again," Sirj said. He took another sip and this time had no trouble with it.

They began to eat, taking occasional sips of the whiskey throughout the meal. While they ate, the n'qlae asked Besh and Sirj about Kirayde, their village, and the lands surrounding it. As usual, Sirj deferred to Besh most of the time, leaving the old man to answer. He chose his words with care, though he sensed no dark intent in her questions. The n'qlae seemed most interested in the animals that the Mettai trapped in the Companion Lakes area, and after some time Besh finally turned to Sirj, who knew far more about trapping than Besh ever had.