[Nurumaiel]

Andhun shook his head. "Sir, I promised my master," he said. "And sir, he does not own me, but he does own my services. And even if it were possible that I could leave him, I would not, for it would leave him short of hands and... I promised him, sir."

"I will speak to your master," Rochadan said gently, "and he will be compensated for his loss."

"I do not understand, sir..."

"He will lose nothing by losing you, for he will be paid in equal worth," said Rochadan. He saw Andhun still hesitated, and he took a slightly different course. "Stay, Andhun, at least for the day. You need not make any promise you will stay with us, but stay for now, and then when you see if your master will let you go or not, you may decide what you will do then."

"Very well, sir," said Andhun, and a silence fell. It seemed a very deep silence, though from outside the tavern there were shouting and scuffling noises. Andhun was considering what his position in life would be if he worked at the tavern, and he saw very clearly that Rochadan was a very good man. Andhun would be almost useless in the stables, for he could not carry anything heavy nor move very fast, and he could only use his left hand, which would in normal circumstances have been the weaker of the two. He grew tired easily, and many times when he grew too tired he would fall into fever. Here, he knew, he would not grow too tired, but Rochadan would find him not a help, but a burden. And as Andhun studied the stablemaster's face, he saw that the latter fully realized.

The door was flung open and banged against the wall with a resounding thud, and the young boy who had come running in paused and looked from Bethberry to Rochadan with a shame-filled face, and fixed his eyes on Rochadan, feeling that he as a man would be the one to deal out the punishment. Rochadan raised his eyebrows gravely and shook his head, and the boy sighed heavily, but slowly an impish twinkle came into his eyes when he saw that Rochadan was attempting not to smile. Jumping forward, the boy took Andhun's left hand and let some coins falling into it, saying something about paying for the meal. Then he turned to Rochadan and Bethberry and sweeped a courtly bow, still smiling impishly. "Cynan Harwell at your service," he said. "I was the one to find this boy you seem so interested in."

Andhun had been turning the money over in his hand and then held it out to Rochadan. "Here, sir," he said. "This is for the meal you gave me."

Rochadan opened his mouth to speak, but was cut short as the door was flung open again. It also banged against the wall, but the man who was the cause showed no remorse as his squinted eyes fell on Andhun. With his heavy build, rough large hands, and twisted lips that seemed to be in a perpetual sneer, he was very recognizable. And if he could not be recognized by these attributes it would be obvious by the way Andhun began to tremble and crouched back in his chair that this man was 'the master.' Harstan gave a growl of rage and advanced forward at a quick pace towards Andhun, then stopped and smoothed his brow with one hand, letting his face fall into a twisted, hideous smile as he addressed Rochadan.

"Good day to you sir," he said, his voice rasping. "I hope my boy has not been bothering you with his presence."

"On the contrary," said Rochadan, his words courteous but his tone stiff.

The master sensed this and tensed slightly, and when he spoke he was still smiling and his words still full of politeness, but there was a dangerous edge in both the words and his eyes. "Ah, that is a good thing to hear," said he. "Now perhaps you should not consider it too much of a trouble if I took him back to my home now, for he has been sorely missed."