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off the leather trousers and donned his working shipsuit. She stood and
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straightened the blanket as he struggled into the leather boots.
It looks like a storm is coming in hard, she said. Can you finish the
bathhouse?
The inside will take a day or two more. We ve got the jakes and the
laundry area finished. Nylan walked over to the sole armaglass window and
looked up at the dark clouds boiling out of the northwest, cloaking Freyja in
blackness, with snow thickening and dropping to shroud the lower parts of the
western peaks and the heights behind the tower.
A thin layer of ice covered the window ledge outside the casement, and the
engineer watched as one flake, then another, dropped onto the ice, melding
with it and turning transparent, the black-gray stone showing through.
The flakes thickened, and even the lower sections of Freyja disappeared in
the snow that seemed so white near the tower and so dark in the distance. The
ground remained brown, with a few white patches.
Nylan closed the armaglass window, and the shutters. When he looked down,
he realized that he had stood before the open window long enough for a small
pile of flakes to accumulate, but as he watched, the whiteness faded into a
damp splotch on the roughly smoothed plank floor.
Why did you close the shutters? asked Ryba, fully dressed in her
shipsuit, and even wearing a black ship jacket. It looks like midnight in
here that way. I can t see in pitch-blackness, the way you can.
We re going down to the main level, and no one s going to be here. He
walked around the couches toward where the marshal of Westwind stood.
That makes sense, but it still bothers me when it s so dark.
It s going to be a long and dark winter.
You are so cheerful this morning.
I try, he answered.
They walked down the long stone steps, the sounds of their boots echoing
away from the stairwell and into the open levels they passed. Several marines
were still dressing on the third level, but none looked toward Nylan and Ryba.
The tables were largely full, and even Murkassa sat at the end, on Istril s
right, while Hryessa sat on the slim trooper s left. Istril looked at the
bread on her trencher, but had not lifted it.
Did she look pale? Nylan smiled, getting a quick and faint smile in return
as he followed Ryba toward the head of the table and the hearth.
After he slid onto the bench, Nylan poured the bark-and-root tea into the
dark brown mug. The tea s taste was still bitter, but warming. He reached for
the dark bread.
A storm like this won t last, predicted Relyn, sitting at the last seat
on the window side of the first table. The snowflakes are too large.
The snow will bring a long rest, pronounced Narliat. His cloak was
wrapped tightly around him, and he glanced toward the cold hearth.
I m glad for the rest, announced Huldran.
You don t get one. Not yet, said Nylan. We ve still got the shower
floors and partitions to install.
Cessya can help.
Cessya looked at Huldran, her eyes dark.
It s easier than clearing and packing snow, intervened Nylan.
What are you talking about? asked Gerlich.
We still have to keep the area around the doors, the outfalls, and the
trails to the stables and down to the forest open. Nylan pulled at his chin,
then looked toward Ayrlyn, then Ryba. Both nodded.
We ll need to have ways the horses can travel. They ll need some
exercise, pointed out Ayrlyn. We ll need them to bring up more wood. She
cleared her throat Hryessa, Siret, and Murkassa need to gather more cones.
Cones? asked Nylan.
They have seeds, and they ll help feed the chickens, Ayrlyn said.
Your chickens, they will taste like the pine trees.
I d rather have live pine-tasting chickens than dead tasty ones halfway
through the winter. We don t have near enough food for the livestock, and that
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will help, answered Ayrlyn. If the traders come back, they re supposed to
have some more dried corn. If they come back&
We can t have people sitting around all winter, added Saryn. They d be
at each others throats.
They can t sit around anyway, said Ryba. We ll need some additional
food, something from hunting, and probably more firewood.
A lot more firewood, predicted Nylan. We probably ought to require
dragging as much up here as we burn.
How?
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