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soon. Saun turned up, invited by Razi and Utau, and Fawn grew conscious for
the first time of how few visitors had come to the campsite. If she and Dag
were indeed a wonder of the lake, she would have thought curiosity, if not
friendliness, should have brought a steady stream of neighbors making excuses
to get a peek at her. She wasn t sure how to interpret their absence:
politeness, or shunning? But Saun was as nice to her as ever.
The session began with archery, and Fawn, fascinated, made herself useful
trotting into the walnut grove after misses, or tossing plunkin rinds up into
the air for moving targets. Her arrows seemed to work as well as her mentor s,
she saw with satisfaction. Cattagus sat on a stump and appraised the archers
skills as freely as his breathlessness would allow. Saun was inclined to be
daunted by him, but Mari gave him back as good as she got; Dag just smiled.
The five patrollers moved on to blade practice with wooden knives and swords.
Mari was clever and fast, but outmatched in strength and endurance, not a
surprise in a woman of seventy-five, and soon promoted herself to a seat
beside Cattagus to shrewdly critique the others.
The action grew hotter then, with what seemed to Fawn a great many very dirty
moves, not to mention uncertainty of whether she was watching sword fighting
or wrestling. The clunk and clatter of the wooden blades was laced with cries
ofOw! ,Blight it! , or, to Saun s occasional gratification,Good one! Dag
pushed the others on far past breathlessness, on the gasped-out but convincing
theory that the real thing didn t come with rest breaks, so s you d better
know how to move when you couldn t hardly move at all.
The sweat-soaked and filthy combatants then took a swim in the lake, emerging
smelling no worse than usual, and assembled in the clearing to munch plunkin
and try, without success, to persuade Cattagus to uncork one of his last
carefully hoarded jugs of elderberry wine from the prior fall. Dag, slouched
against a stump and smiling at the banter, suddenly frowned and sat up, his
head turning toward the road.
 What is it? Fawn, sitting beside him, asked quietly.
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 Fairbolt. Not happy about something.
She lowered her voice further.  Think it s our summons from the camp council,
finally? She had lived in increasing dread of the threat.
 Could be& no. I m not sure. Dag s eyes narrowed.
By the time Fairbolt s trotting horse swung into the clearing, all the
patrollers had quieted and were sitting up watching him. He was riding
bareback, and his face was as grim as Fawn had ever seen. She found her heart
beating faster, even though she was sitting still.
Fairbolt pulled up his horse and gave them all a vague sort of salute.  Good,
you re all here. I m looking for Saun, first.
Saun, startled, stood up from his stump.  Me, sir?
 Yep. Courier just rode in from Raintree.
Saun s home hinterland. Bad news from there? Saun s face drained, and Fawn
could imagine his thoughts suddenly racing down a roster of family and
friends.
 They ve got themselves a bad malice outbreak north of Farmer s Flats, and
are calling for help.
Everyone straightened in shock at this. Even Fawn knew by now that to call
for aid outside one s own hinterland was a sign of things going very badly
indeed.
 Seems the blighted thing came up practically under a farmer town, and grew
like crazy before it was spotted, Fairbolt said.
Saun s gnawed plunkin rind fell from his hand.  I ll ride I have to get home
at once! he said, and lurched forward. He caught himself, breathless, and
looked beseechingly at Fairbolt.  Sir, may I have leave to go?
 No.
Saun flushed, but before he could speak, Fairbolt went on,  I want you to
ride with the rest tomorrow morning as pathfinder.
 Oh. Yes, of course. Saun subsided, but stayed on his flexing feet, like a
dog straining on the end of a chain.
 Being the high season, almost three-quarters of our patrols are out right
now, Fairbolt continued, his gaze sweeping over the suddenly grave patrollers
in front of him.  For our first answer, I figure I can pull up the next three
patrols due to go out. Which includes yours, Mari.
Mari nodded. Cattagus scowled unhappily, his right hand rubbing on his knee,
but he said nothing.
 Being out of the hinterland, it s on a volunteer basis as usual you folks
all in?
 Of course, murmured Mari. Razi and Utau, after a glance at each other,
nodded as well. Fawn hardly dared move. Her breath felt constricted. Dag said
nothing, his face oddly blank.
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Saun wheeled to him.  You ll come, won t you, Dag? I know you meant to sit
out our next patrol in camp, and you ve earned some time off your feet, but,
but !
 I want to speak to Dag private-like, said Fairbolt, watching him.  The rest
of you can start to collect your gear. I figure to send the first company west
at dawn.
 Couldn t we start tonight? If everyone pulled themselves together? said
Saun earnestly.  Time you never know how much difference a little time could
make.
Dag grimaced at that one, not, Fawn thought, in disagreement.
Fairbolt shook his head, although his glance was sympathetic.  Folks are
spread all over the lake right now. It ll take all afternoon just to get the
word out. You can t outpace the company you re leading, pathfinder.
Saun gulped and nodded.
Fairbolt gave a gesture of dismissal, and everyone scattered, Razi and Utau
for their tent, where Sarri had come to the awning post with her little boy on
her hip, staring hard at the scene, Mari and Cattagus to theirs. Saun waved
and started jogging up the road back to his own campsite on the island s other
end.
Fairbolt slid down from his horse and left it to trail its reins and browse.
Dag motioned toward Tent Bluefield, sheltered in the orchard, and Fairbolt
nodded. Fawn hurried after their matched patrollers strides. Fairbolt eyed
her, neither inviting nor excluding, so when each man took a seat on an
upended log in the shade of her tent flap, she did, too. Dag gave her an
acknowledging nod before turning his full attention on his commander.
 With three patrols sent out in a bunch, they re going to need an experienced
company captain, Fairbolt began.
 Rig Crow. Or Iwassa Muskrat, said Dag, watching him warily.
 My first two choices exactly, Fairbolt said.  If they weren t both a
hundred and fifty miles away right now.
 Ah. Dag hesitated.  Surely you re not looking to me for this.
 You ve been a company captain. Further, you re the only patroller in camp
right now who s been in on a real large-group action.
 And so successfully, too, murmured Dag sourly.  Just ask the survivors. Oh,
that s right there weren t any. That ll give folks lots of confidence in my
leadership, sure enough.
Fairbolt made an impatient chopping motion.  Your habit of picking up extra
duty means you ve worked, at one time or another, with almost every other
patroller in camp. No problem with unfamiliar grounds, or not knowing your
people pretty much through and through. Weaknesses, strengths, who can be
relied on for what.
Dag s slow blink didn t deny this.
Fairbolt lowered his voice.  Another angle. I shouldn t be saying this, but
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