'What now?' said Ironfoot.
'I'll handle him,' said Sela, stepping forward.
The farmer stood and watched them approach.
'What can I do for you?' he said. Silverdun couldn't imagine what he must be thinking. Three bloody, disheveled men and a beautiful woman, all covered in dust, appearing in his barnyard.
'We were out for a walk in the mountains,' said Sela, her eyes all apology. 'It was foolish, I know. One of those impetuous ideas a girl has from time to time. We were caught in the quake.
'Yes, we felt it down here, for sure.'
'We'd be extremely appreciative if you'd avail us of your pump, and perhaps some fresh clothing,' said Silverdun. 'We'd be happy to pay you.'
'Out for a walk?' said the farmer, contemptuously. 'I know what you were doing up there. I've seen it before.'
Silverdun looked at him, confused. He started to kneel down as if to tie his bootlace, going for the dagger in his boot.
'You think you boys are the first three that ever tried to escape a draft?'
'What draft?' said Sela. She gave the farmer an odd look, and the man's expression grew thoughtful.
'You don't know about the draft,' he said.
'Of course not,' said Sela. 'We've been out all day.'
'It's all over the city,' said the farmer. 'A flier came in yesterday from the City of Mab. All able-bodied men in the city are being called up.'
'What?' said Silverdun, his voice sharp.
'There's going to be war,' said the farmer.
Silverdun looked at Ironfoot, and they shared a look of despair.
'If that's the case,' said Silverdun. 'Then we need to get back to the city immediately. As I said, I'm happy to pay for some clean clothes.' He reached into the pocket of his waistcoat for a few silver coins.
'Keep your money,' said the farmer. 'You boys are going off to fight the Seelie. A few pairs of trousers is the least I can do.'
He looked sadly at Sela. 'You might fit in some of my wife's old things. She was a bit bigger than you, but with a little bit of tucking and tying, I imagine it'll do until you get home.'
'Thank you,' said Sela. She gave him the same odd look as before, and he actually smiled.
'It's my pleasure,' he said. 'We're all in this together, after all.'
The farmer took them into the house and handed out towels and fresh clothes. They took turns at the pump next to the barn, washing the dust from themselves, but regardless of how long he dunked his head under the pump, the grit never left Silverdun's hair.
The farmer's clothes were a bit tight, and far from fashionable, but Silverdun didn't care. The news of the draft had sent a chill down Silverdun's spine, and every part of him wanted to race away from the farm, but the last thing they needed was to make the farmer suspicious.
Eventually they were as clean as they were going to get, and all dressed. The farmer-whose name, they discovered, was Tiro-gave them cold chicken to eat. Silverdun wasn't hungry until the plate was set in front of him, but as soon as he took the first bite, he found he was ravenous.
It was night when they finally bade Tiro good-bye.
'Are you sure I can't drive you back to town in my cart?' he asked. 'It's two miles to the gate from here.'
'No,' said Sela, taking his hand in hers. 'You've done too much already.'
'Whatever suits you,' said Tiro.
'Thank you so much,' said Sela.
Timha, who had said little up to this point, offered, 'You are a great friend in Mab.'
'We all do what we can in her service,' said Tiro.
Tiro looked at Silverdun, very serious, and motioned him aside. 'Let me give you some advice, son,' he said. 'I know a little of the ways of the world, and if you've got any sense, you'll marry that young lady before you go off to fighting.' He nodded toward Sela.
Silverdun thought of correcting Tiro, but stopped himself. 'That's wise advice,' he said.
They took the road to the city, but veered away before they reached
