"Can I?" Rankil's eyes lit with pride.

"She won't rest until you prove yourself." Kaelan chuckled as Rankil lifted Jewel and tossed her carry sack manner over her shoulder. "That says it all, doesn't it?"

"What have you been doing with this girl?" demanded Jewel when she'd regained her footing.

"We've been having stone rolling races." Rankil tied on her leg sheath and slid in her knife. "I won yesterday."

"You did?" Jewel cocked her head at Kaelan's humbled nod. "And I thought mapping was your sole occupation as of late."

"Glass blower, mapper, stone roller, I have many talents." Kaelan pulled on her cloak and set a head wrap about her ears. "Tonight, it's guard duty with another broadback. You finished with Rankil's cloak, my dear, or does she need a fur to fight the cold?"

"It's finished save for the bottom hem." Jewel drew the dark gray bundle from the sewing pile and draped it across Rankil's shoulders.

"It's hopper lined!" Rankil fingered the garment's supple insides. "So soft." She sniffed and turned away, ashamed of the happy tears stinging her eyes. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me. You've provided more than enough pelts to line all our cloaks." Jewel tossed Rankil her head wrap and red mitts. "You can keep yourself awake by hemming. Your stitches are always even." She held out the thread and bone needle. "I wish my sewing was as clean."

Rankil shoved the items into her pocket. "You become an expert when mistakes earn you lashes."

"You don't have to put in the hem if you don't want to," said Jewel quickly.

"I'll do it. It is my cloak." Rankil patted her pocket then turned to Kaelan. "I'm ready when you are."

"Then let's go." Kaelan led the way to the cavern entrance, pausing long enough to speak back to Jewel. "Finish brewing us a pot then get to bed, my pet."

"Don't worry your stubbly head about me," called Jewel. "I'm a big girl. Oh, and Rankil?"

"Yes?"

"Drop a stitch if it suits your fancy."

"I just might."

The nassies saw their nocturnal companions as a chance for attention and set about baying for a pat on the head. Kaelan gave each animal an affectionate scratch while Rankil mounded clean bedding straw. The milker's new colt tugged against his picket in hopes of a second scratch.

"Greedy," teased Rankil as she patted the creature between the eyes.

"They're gluttons for attention." Kaelan scratched the colt's coarse ear welts and set the torch into a bracket. "Don't make yourself too comfortable. We aren't here to sleep." She spread the hay wider before settling into it. "Want some help with that hem? I'm fair with a needle myself."

"I've only the one."

"Make that two." Kaelan pulled a tack needle from the stack of riding pads. "You'll never finish before the torch burns out. Let me help."

"If you insist." Rankil threaded her needle then passed the spool. "Where'd you learn to sew?"

"From Eeham, the gentlewoman who raised me." Kaelan wet the thread point and pushed it through the eye.

"You didn't have a broadback raiser?"

"Nope."

"That's acceptable?"

"Sure," said Kaelan, taking up the cloak's other side. "Single raisers aren't uncommon among the Taelach. Many times it is due to an untimely death, but occasionally, like with Eeham, one chooses to raise a daughter on her own. Lee, her life mate, died a few passes before I was born."

Rankil was silent for a moment as she stitched. "Did you miss having a broadback to talk to?"

"I always had someone to talk to. There were many who tried to get in Eeham's good graces through me." Kaelan pushed away a straw poking her side. "They came and went, but Recca was always there for me."

"The clan leader?"

"She hasn't always been clan leader." Kaelan chuckled. "When I was young, she was a metal smith. She still does it from time to time-beautiful work, fine detail and craftsmanship. She hoped I'd take a shine to it as well."

"You didn't?" Rankil pricked her finger and shoved it into her mouth to dull the sting.

"I prefer glass blowing and potting. The work is more delicate." Kaelan jerked the wet digit from Rankil's mouth, examined the finger, and shoved it back into her mouth. "Don't sew yourself to it, daughter. You won't appreciate the fur come summer."

"I might."

"Well, we won't be able to stand the stench."

"Thanks a lot."

Kaelan pointed to a break in Rankil's handiwork. "You missed a stitch."

"I know," Rankil replied.

"Your cloak. Your rules. Now move your rump before I follow the wrong line and sew up something important."

Rankil laughed, pulled the cloak free, then threaded a fresh length and began to stitch again. "Kaelan?"

"Yes?"

"When will I be allowed to wear leggings like you?"

"When you come of age."

"When's that?"

"Your eighteenth summer." She smiled at Rankil's irritated sigh. "Sounds like forever, doesn't it?"

"Just short of," Rankil mumbled. "Why eighteen? If I were Autlach I'd be old enough to marry now."

"Sixteen is not grown in Serpent terms." Kaelan put down her needle and motioned Rankil to do the same. "Let me put this into perspective for you." She rose and began to pace the straw-laden floor, arms crossed behind her back. "You've chosen your path, haven't you?"

"Broadback," replied Rankil. "I've known that for a while. My body won't let me forget it either."

"Not all sisters your age are so certain. Waiting until the age of eighteen ensures self-identity. The Serpent clan also expects you to have a trade skill by that age."

"Like potting and glass blowing?"

"Yes," said Kaelan. "But you already have two vital skills."

"I do?"

"You speak perfect Autlach, and you're an excellent hunter."

"Those are vital?"

"Most definitely," Kaelan placed her hand on Rankil's shoulder. "We need fluent translators for trade and to soothe the hysterics of birthers."

"Birthers?"

"An Aut woman laboring with a Taelach child."

"Oh." Rankil shrugged. "Jewel told me all about that. I can see how my Autlach knowledge could be useful there, but hunting? I'm sure the clan has any number of able bodies."

"Not necessarily." Kaelan resumed her stitching. "You manage to find bounty in a season when most come back empty-handed. There's a knack to doing that. We've barely dipped into our winter supplies because of it. That's a thousand times more valuable than translation."

Rankil's stitches were growing close to Kaelan's as the torch began to burn low over the heads. "What about Archie and Myrla?"

"Melpra will teach him music. She's the clan's lead musician and records keeper. He'll learn to scribe and play the string box and time sticks." Kaelan tugged the cloak. "Look at your head wrap. Myrla is excellent at the loom and hand knitting. That and teaching will probably be her contributions."

"Suits her," replied Rankil. "Those are appropriate jobs for a gentlewoman."

"Don't underestimate her abilities or that of any gentlewoman sister," warned Kaelan. "She's a crack shot with a bow."

"Jewel?"

"Decent enough but lethal with a short blade."

Rankil was grateful the final stitches were almost in place. "Didn't she say something about tea before we came out here?"

"She did." Kaelan knotted her thread and bit it loose. She shoved the point into a broken harness strap then stood. "Think we could both use a strong mug about now. I'll be right back." She rounded the corner into the family chamber and tiptoed to the fireside. With a little prodding and several slow burning chips, she coaxed the smoldering fire back to life. One grew accustomed to the smell.

Jewel opened her eyes when Kaelan pulled the blankets to her chin.

Didn't mean to wake you, lover. Kaelan's mind touch was tender. I was getting some tea for the night crew.

How's Rankil faring? Jewel's question carried the equivalent of a kiss.

She's finished the hem. Kaelan extended another mental caress.

With a little help, I'm sure. Jewel shivered as Kaelan's phase intensity increased. Rankil is waiting for you.

I suppose she is. My thoughts will have to wait for a later time.

You've given me a pretty vivid image already. Jewel's corresponding thoughts were enough to make Kaelan shiver.

Jewel! Don't you dare say I'm the one with a dirty mind. I learned from you. You've had a good teacher then because that was quite inventive.

Kaelan broke her phase. "To be continued?" she asked aloud.

"As soon as practical." Jewel closed her eyes. "Night, Kae."

"Pleasant dreams, Jewel of mine." Kaelan carried the pot and a pair of mugs back to the livestock cavern where Rankil paced and talked to the nassies.

"How long until dawn?" she asked when Kaelan's long shadow became visible.

"Three, four hours perhaps." Kaelan poured two steaming cups. "Find a seat. I'm going to douse the torch. Our culprit should show his or her face before daylight."

Rankil returned to the hay mound and took a long draw from her mug. "Think it may be another Taelach?"

"This far in the hills, it's possible." Kaelan smothered the light and felt a path to Rankil's side. "If it is, the sister is most likely clanless for a reason. Might be dangerous."

"Dangerous?"

"You have to commit a serious offense to lose your clan affiliation."

"Like murder?" Rankil could feel Kaelan's nearby warmth-a comfort in the cavern's darkness.

"No, proven murder or rape will earn you slow death in any clan. A clanless sister is probably a thief."

"I see." The warm drink only made Rankil sleepier. She yawned and stretched, trying to stay alert.

"I won't be disappointed if you rest your eyes."

"You won't be?" Rankil's head felt like a lead weight in danger of falling from her shoulders.

"Not a bit. I'll wake you if I need you."

"You won't tell Jewel?"

"I'll swear dead to rights you were wide-eyed the entire night." She pushed an ever so slight phase that soon had Rankil snoring. Kaelan maintained watch the remainder of the night, but her head also nodded as dawn approached. She was nearing full sleep when the nassies began to nicker. Someone was near.

Rankil, wake up. A moderate level of discomfort accompanied the prod.

RANKIL! NOW!.

"Huh?" Kaelan silenced the verbal reply with a phase pinch. Shush! We have company.

Ow! Milk thief?

Appears so.

What? Rankil could only broadcast confusion over what to do.

Keep still. Let them come to us. Kaelan received the sensation of a mental nod. She crept between the nassies and quieted them with a warming hand to their front flanks.