Rialynn's father peered at Ramza for a long, long moment, scrutinizing every word for some hint of rakishness. But, finding none, he grunted in satisfaction. "Good lad," he said, and lumbered to the large black stove to fill it with more wood and keep the front room warm.

As for Rialynn herself, she carried out an armful of blankets and pillows from the linen closet to start making beds for Ramza and Duster. "Sorry. I know it's not the most comfortable arrangement, but it's warm at least. Tomorrow, we need to get you a sword," she nodded at Ramza, "and at least two horses. We can probably double up unless anyone's uncomfortable with that. If so, let me know. We'll just have to knock out more guards."