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At the same time, Eddis knew she wasn’t much of a person to deal with ordinary children, let alone this one. Somehow, she’d managed not to lose patience with the little one’s fears the night before and simply let her sleep on the floor.

“A bed,” she had said, “was not a place for a Blot.”

Eddis gazed down at the still bundle, eyes narrowed as she remembered. “I could kill those men,” she whispered.

The child knew only what those men had told her: Townfolk and such were “nocks,” good only for the money, gems, and grain others could steal from them. She’d protested staying with Eddis and had difficulty understanding when M’Baddah explained that in towns and in houses, women and girls shared private rooms while men all slept together. Eventually, he and Eddis realized the child had no concept of sex. There were only “nocks,” men like the bandits, and Blot. When the outlander had tried to explain that Blot, Eddis, and the merchant’s ransomed lady were all “she,” the girl had stared at him in visible disbelief.

One thing for certain, Eddis decided as she swung her legs to the floor. First thing this morning, before she and Jerdren started butting heads over their “reward,” she and M’Baddah would go buy proper clothing for Blot. We can’t keep calling her Blot. It’s cruel.

A tap on the door brought her back to the moment. It was growing lighter outside the window, and she could hear people moving about. She dragged on breeches and padded barefoot across the little room. Blot came awake with a start as she opened the door. M’Baddah came in, bearing a thick clay pot filled with steaming hot tea and a cloth bag full of warm, spiced rolls. Eddis rummaged in her pack for her cup.

“The taverner gave me leave to brew my own herbs over his fire,” the outlander said. “He also sent along the rolls. Good morning, young friend,” he added with a smile. Blot sat in the midst of her blanket, rubbing her eyes. “Here is food for you, and drink.”

He was quiet and patient, persuading the girl that she had no early duties, that he and Eddis wanted her to eat and drink with them, that she could have as much of both tea and bread as she liked. Two small rolls and a cup of tea later, the girl handed M’Baddah back his cup and sat back against the wall, tugging the blanket over her bare feet.

“She needs something decent to wear, M’Baddah,” Eddis said then.

“I agree.” He settled down next to the child while Eddis ate, telling her what she would see outside and where they would go. “You need clothes of your own,” he said.

She fingered the loose jerkin she wore—M’Whan’s spare, which itself had been bought secondhand.

“But this is nice stuff.” She looked up at him. “Too good for a camp brat, maybe, but big enough, it would last a while. Blot don’t need more.”

Eddis sat back and waited. Her lieutenant was getting further with the girl than she might. It took time, but finally the girl agreed to leave the little room if M’Baddah agreed to stay right with her.

The short journey from the inn into the fountain square was slow. The girl was wary of everything and everyone, though at this early hour, the area was relatively deserted. The market was better. There were things to look at: piles of fruit and bright-colored cloth. Blot hid behind M’Baddah as the stall-holder gave her a kindly smile.

“You buy often enough from me, Eddis,” the old woman said, “and you’ve done us all good service. We’ll see you get a good bargain and proper garments for him.”

Eddis smiled and let the mistake pass. Blot was won over by the woman’s quiet manner, entranced by the clean, colorful jerkins the old woman held against her skinny shoulders to test for fit. Eventually the little girl came away clutching two changes of shirt and trousers, as well as a pair of boots and soft foot-wraps to go under them. She even relaxed enough to walk between the two fighters.

But as they came abreast of the tavern, the clothing was forgotten, a fallen heap at her feet. Blot clung to M’Baddah, her face buried against his chest as men just inside the open doors started a cheer for the new heroes. The outlander moved aside, drawing the girl with him. Eddis scooped up the fallen bundle and followed. Once the noise had faded away, she knelt and laid a gentle hand on Blot’s shoulder.

“You don’t have to go in there. Are you hungry, though?”

A muffled, tearful voice finally said, “Got ’em rolls still. Where us slept.”

“We’ll take you back there, then. Would you like that?” Eddis asked.

Blot nodded, finally easing her grip on M’Baddah’s arms, and took back her bundle and followed the swordswoman.

Once back in the small chamber, Eddis said, “You can bar the door so no one can open it, and you’ll feel safe. But you have to promise to open it for us, when we come back.”

“Promise” took a little explaining. The child finally nodded and rubbed her hand across her eyes and sniffed loudly. Eddis gave her lieutenant a frustrated look.

“M’Baddah, we can’t keep calling her Blot. That’s not a name!”

“What they said I was,” Blot offered sullenly. “My… my friend didn’t never like it. Called me Windflower, but that was only for him and me. He said, rest of ’em’d make fun. Was our secret.”

Eddis sat cross-legged on the floor and beckoned the child close. M’Baddah had turned away to gaze out the open door. She lowered her voice.

“You and I have a secret, too. Know what my name is?”

“Eddis,” Blot said promptly.

The swordswoman shook her head.

“Yes, but when I was a girl, about your size, before I learned to use a sword, my name was Flerys. It means ‘flower’ where I come from.”

Blot looked at her, visibly puzzled.

“See, I didn’t think that was a good name for a swordswoman. So I called myself Eddis. Maybe we could call you Flerys. That would be nicer than Blot.” Silence. “Just… if you think you’d like to be called Flerys.”

“Flerys.” The girl tried it and smiled tentatively.

“It fits you.” Eddis reached cautiously, and to her surprise, the girl let her lightly pat her shoulder. “Now, you can stay here and feel safe while we go back to that tavern. Eat all the rolls if you’re hungry. We’ll bring more later.”

A few moments later, she and M’Baddah walked away from the little chamber, having heard the bar drop into place.

“Gods,” Eddis said feelingly, “I hope she’ll open it again.”

“She will. That was kind of you, my Eddis. Flerys suits her better than it would you.”

Eddis rolled her eyes. “You sneak! I should have known you’d hear all that!”

He laughed quietly and clapped her on the back. “I wondered often what kind of village woman would name a baby girl Eddis. Flerys is a good name, and a proper one for the bright poppy I see in that child. Not ever for my Eddis,” he added.

The sun was well above the Keep walls when Eddis and her second headed back to the tavern. “Jers is probably going mad, waiting for us. Where’s everyone else?”

“Jerdren left the inn when I did, but he went back to the Guild Hall to speak with the master. Blorys went to the chapel to see what aid the curate might provide. Our Keep men are talking to their fellows to see who might come to talk to you and Jerdren this evening. My son is at the provisioner’s, making certain that we will be able to get all the oil and lamps we need—if we do take up this journey.”