"We could get more storms. Even if we don't, do you think it will go to waste?

After this winter? Besides, we can't plant now. We're just about out of wood planking for new fixtures, and there's only so much equipment for people to hunt.

Also, we'll need wood for the kitchen stove and," Nylan laughed, "to defrost the bathhouse."

"You used it more than I did," pointed out Huldran.

"We probably used it more than about half the guards did together."

"If we get more guards, they'll have to use it. You know what standing next to Denalle is like?"

"Do I want to find out?"

Huldran shook her head over the motion of the saw.

"I was afraid you'd say that."

As they sawed, Gerlich opened the tower door, and he and Narliat walked out across the causeway and leaned their skis against the low wall near the end of the causeway. Gerlich carried his great bow, the second one, since the first had broken, and both bore packs.

"Off hunting?" asked Nylan, without stopping his efforts with the saw.

"We'll see what we can find," Gerlich answered. "Now that it's warmer, and Narliat's learned to ski better, he can help me pack back whatever we get." The hunter grinned. "There might even be another one of those big red deer." The grin faded. "Sometimes, Engineer, sometimes . .."

"I'm just an engineer," Nylan admitted.

"He is also a mage," added Narliat.

"I know that," said Gerlich. "He's the one who doesn't." The tall man hoisted his skis. "We need to be off."

The two carried their skis up the trail toward the top of the ridge.

"That's a case of white demon leading the white demon," puffed out Huldran.

"He brings back food."

"Sometimes . . . and he's not shy about letting the whole tower know."

When Nylan and Huldran finished the first cut, a piece of trunk a little over a cubit in length lay on the stones of the causeway.

"Do we split or keep sawing?" asked Huldran.

"Saw another," suggested Nylan.

"This is a lot of sawing for a trunk that's not all that thick."

"It's as thick as a single horse can drag. Anything bigger, we'd have to saw where it was felled, and I don't want to struggle with a saw in chest-deep snow."

Nylan paused, and Huldran staggered.

"Tell me when you're going to stop," she said.

"Sorry." Nylan tried to catch his breath, grateful that the air was no longer cold enough to bite into his lungs.

"Ready?" asked Huldran after several moments. "Let's forget about splitting until we get this thing cut."

They resumed sawing, even as Fierral marched out with nearly a squad of guards. All of them went up to the stable, and brought back three mounts, on which were strapped the other crosscut saw, and two of the four axes.

"More wood?" asked Nylan, pausing with the saw, then adding, too late, to Huldran, "I'm stopping."

Huldran stumbled back several steps, and barely kept from toppling into the deeper snow only by grabbing onto Rienadre.

"I'm sorry, Huldran."

"Ser . . . please?"

Fierral shook her head. "There's not much else we can do right now. So we'll cut and trim as much as we can. We'll leave the smaller limbs in cut lengths for later in the year when we can bring them back with the cart, and we'll drag back the trunks. Saryn thinks we should set aside more and more to start seasoning so that we'll have a supply for making planks."

"She's probably right."

After Fierral and the squad trudged up the trail to the ridge, both Nylan and Huldran took a break, for some water and other necessities, before they resumed.

As they sawed, Ayrlyn and Saryn came and trudged up to the stables to feed livestock, along with Istril, who was worried about the mounts.

When the three returned, Nylan and Huldran had only finished five more sections.

"You two are slow," jibed Saryn.

Nylan took his hands off the saw-and Huldran staggered again, almost toppling into the snow-and gestured. "You want to take this end?"

"Ah ... no, thank you, Nylan. I'm working on finishing those dividers for the fourth level."

"I thought we were out of wood for that sort of thing," said Huldran, leaning on the now-immobile saw.

"They were rough-cut eight-days ago. The finish work is what takes the time,"

answered Saryn.

"What about you, Ayrlyn?" asked Nylan. "Room dividers?"

"Healing. I'm worried about this rash little Dephnay's got. It keeps coming back.

And Ellysia's having trouble nursing, and there aren't any milk substitutes here."

"We need a few goats or cows, you think?" asked the engineer.

"We need everything." Ayrlyn shook her head as she left with the others.

"Ser, if you stop to talk to everyone, this trunk's still going to be here by the time we plant crops." Huldran cleared her throat. "And I did ask if you'd let me know when you stop sawing. Twice."

"Sorry." Nylan looked down at the slush underfoot and used his boot to sweep it away from where he stood. "All right?"

Before the next interruption, they managed almost a dozen more cuts, leaving them with most of the first trunk cut into lengths to be split. Despite the gloves, Nylan could feel blisters forming on his hands, and the soreness growing in his arms and shoulders.

They were halfway through yet another cut, one that would leave only a few more cuts to finish the second trunk, when the horses reappeared on the ridge, dragging more fir trunks-two each-down the not-quite-slushy packed snow of the trail toward the tower.

Fierral and her squad were laughing by the time they reached the causeway and stacked the six trunks up.

"You two are so slow."

"Do you want to do this?" asked Huldran, without slowing her sawing.

With grins, Denalle and Rienadre shook their heads.

"We'll just bring in the trunks, thank you," added Fierral. "Has Kadran rung the triangle yet?"

"No." But as Nylan spoke, Kadran came out and rang the triangle for the midday meal.

"Good timing," added Selitra.

Huldran let go of the saw, and Nylan stumbled forward and rammed the saw handle into his gut, so hard that he exhaled with a grunt.

"So sorry, ser." She grinned.

"All right," Nylan mumbled. "Next time I'll remember."

"What was all that about?" asked Kadran.

"Nothing," answered Nylan. "What are you serving?"

"Venison, your leftover venison, spiced with pine tips, a few not quite moldy potatoes, and a handful of softened pine nuts. The bread is more bitter than ever, but the healer says it's edible."

"It's better than starving."

"Not much," commented Berlis, as she followed Denalle and Rienadre into the tower.

Fierral, Selitra, and Weindre did not go inside, but led the horses back up to the stables.

"More wood will help," said the cook. "When will you have some split?"

"Mid-afternoon," Nylan guessed.

"I'll send Hryessa and Murkassa out for it. They can take that kind of cold."

Kadran paused. "It's not really that cold anymore, but they think it is.

Flatlanders!" She snorted.

"You can tell she's from the Purgatory Mountains," said Huldran as Kadran left.

"Let's finish the last cut before we eat. Fierral and the others will take that long to get the horses settled anyway. Then we can try splitting what we've sawed when we get back."

Nylan took up his end of the saw once more.

After the midday meal, Nylan picked up one of the axes and looked at the sections of trunk. "I don't know."

He lifted the axe and brought it down. The axe head buried itself in the wood, which creaked, but did not split. He lifted the axe, and the wood came with it. So he brought wood and axe down on the frozen ground together. It took him two more attempts before the circular chunk of wood split into two unequal sections.

"I think sawing is easier." Nylan panted as he half leaned on the axe handle.

"Let me try."

"Be my guest." Nylan handed the axe to Huldran.

Her first attempt also stuck in the larger log section, but the second effort split that section in two. "Only took me two." The blond guard smiled at Nylan.

"Splitting's easier."

"You were working on a smaller section. Try one of the big ones."

Huldran shrugged and lifted the axe again. It took her two attempts to split the log chunk. "It's tough. Maybe we don't have the technique."

"Green wood is harder, I think."

They alternated efforts, slowly improving, until they had reduced the sawed sections into chunks of stove and furnace wood. The guards who passed the wood-splitting avoided commenting after a quick look at Nylan's face.

About mid-afternoon, as promised by Kadran, Hryessa and Murkassa peered out from the tower door, some time after Nylan and Huldran had returned to sawing another green fir trunk.

"We've got plenty there for you," said the engineer.

Hryessa stepped out quickly, then stopped by the pile of split wood, looking at the open jackets and the two sweating figures. Her breath formed a faint white cloud as she spoke. "It's still cold here. It is not as bad as before, but..." She shrugged. "Yet you are hot."

"It's so cold up here that you'd think the lowlanders would leave us alone, wouldn't you?" asked Huldran, not stopping her sawing.

Nylan just kept moving his end of the saw.

Murkassa, stooping to fill her arms with split wood, shook her head sadly. "They are men."

"It is sad, in a way," added Hryessa, as she struggled back into the tower, leaving Huldran and Nylan to their sawing.

"I'm not sure it's sad being a man," Nylan puffed as he kept the blade moving.

"It is if you're as hidebound as the locals are."

"The women have it much worse."

"For now," pointed out Huldran.

"Point taken," Nylan said. "Let's take a break." As he slowed the saw, he glanced to the west where the sun hung just above the Westhorns.