Gentleborn students had to work to harden their hands and their feet. Taizu's were hard; and she had sword-calluses. Silk would fray on such hands.

But-he thought,- But that went with Taizu. And there was only one of her.

One still tried. It was a slow campaign. That evening, over supper: "We should go hunting again," he said. The deer was long since sc.r.a.ps for the birds and the opossums, and he had dragged it off that day, to keep the pests away from the cabin.

She nodded, eyes bright over the edge of her bowl.

"You know, the ladies in Chiyaden use ivory chopsticks. They take smaller bites. Like so." Hedemonstrated.

She laughed at him, a crinkle at the corners of her eyes, as if all it had meant was a story, like the pigs with ruby eyes.

"Even the gentlemen take smaller bites," he said, figuring that if a gentleman was what she aspired to be, she might at least acquiresome courtly grace, "and they use napkins instead of their sleeves."

What do they do with the rubies?she had asked regarding the pigs. Taizu went straight to the heart of a thing. And she was still waiting for a story. He saw that.

"Have you heard who invented chopsticks?"

"No."

"It was a greedy woman who couldn't wait for her rice to cool. She didn't want to burn her fingers."

She looked at him curiously. "What province was she from?"

"Probably Hua."

"That's not so," she said definitely, as if she would have heard.

Then he smothered a laugh by filling his mouth and said: "Well, maybe it was Yiungei."

Taizu said: "Have you heard how the dog got in the moon?"

"I didn't know there was a dog in the moon."

"Of course there is. You can see it." She leaned and pointed.

"It's an old woman."

"The same that invented the chopsticks?"

"Probably."

"It stole this old woman's supper and she chased it with her stick. That's how it got there. It's a very hungry dog. It starves down to nothing every month, but the G.o.ds always feel sorry and feed it, so it never goes away."

That was a hopeful story. He laughed.

"I heard in Kiang province it was a rabbit. It jumped up there."

"Why?"

"Probably because the dog was chasing it."

She gave him an odd look. "I swear," he said. "That's what I heard."

It should always be like this, he thought. She should always be here. Every evening. Forever.

"I think you're making fun of me."

"I never would. My solemn word."

She frowned at him.

He grinned.

She got up fast and headed inside.

"Taizu?"

Oh, d.a.m.n.

"Taizu."

He got up and went after her. She was inside gathering up the rice-pot to wash.

"I wasn't making fun of you, dammit. Can't a man joke with you?"

"I don't know when you're joking," she said sullenly. "I don't think you've told me anything true."

"Like what?"

"Like everything in Chiyaden."

"Well, it is true. About the pigs and the rubies. And the ivory chopsticks."

She threw her bowl into the pot, and splashed water. "Are you through yet? I'll take your bowl."

"You're not going around back in the dark. A bear might eat you."

"Like the pigs. I can take care of myself."

"I don't doubt that. It's going to be a bad day for the bear. Come on back to the porch. You're being stupid. I never laughed at you. I was making a joke."

"So you were laughing at me."

"I wasn't laughing at you!Do you call me a liar?"

"No, master Saukendar. You're a gentleman. You wouldn't lie."

He stood fast in the doorway, with her with the potful of water in her hands.

And he suddenly thought that was a dangerous position to hold. He saw the thought going through her eyes. He gave her a look intending she see the one going through his. Which left them standing there like obstinate fools.

"We can stand here all night," he said.

"Yes, master Saukendar."

He sighed, stepped aside, gestured her to pa.s.s.

"I didn't laugh at you," he shouted at her back. "You're being an ingrate b.i.t.c.h."

She walked down off the porch and around into the chill dark.

So he heated up the wine and poured himself a small drink and went to bed.

She came back quietly and blew out the light and went to hers.

She was very sweet in the morning. She made a special breakfast, with sausage. She said nothing about the quarrel.

He said nothing either, just stared at her while he ate.

She looked uncomfortable and went off to do the morning ch.o.r.es.

It was a sort of a victory, he thought.

They had practiced arms in the snow; they had practiced on the porch and up and down the steps-as well you learn what to do with a ceiling, he had said.

Now, with the snow lying only in shadowed nooks and the high part of the yard dry it was the yard by the old tree again, breath frosting on the air, and mud up to the knee.

You don't always get good footing, he said. You choose your ground if you can. Sometimes you can't.

Taizu went down on a wet patch, messily. He followed up with the sword to make the point, jumped back as she took a swipe at his legs and rolled and came up again.

"d.a.m.ned fine!" he yelled at her, and brought his sword sweeping round to catch her shoulder-if she had not spun under and offered him the point of hers two-handed in a stop-thrust.

"Break, break, a h.e.l.l of a sloppy defense."

"I'm alive," she said.

"You've bound your point skewering me! What are you going to do with the man at your back?"

"There's no man at my back!"

"h.e.l.l if there isn't! Don't give me any cheek, girl." "It worked," she panted.

"Do you want me to teach you or do you want to argue with me?"

She drew a quieter breath and wiped her leather-bound wrist across her face. "Yes, master Saukendar."

"Which?"

She gasped another breath and took up her stance again.

His leg ached. He was out of sorts. "Slower now. Don't improvise. Hear me?"

She nodded. "I hear. Can you show me-how to do that?"

"You're not ready. You fell. Don't clown when you fall." He began a slow evolution, the beginning-moves again. "Teaches you bad habits."

"I wasn't-wasn't clowning. What am I going to do-when something happens-you didn't teach me?"

Then he thought about the spring; and the thaw: and thought in a flash of cold:She's talking about leaving.

"You're not ready yet. You're not near ready."

He saw the frown. He felt colder.

Show her otherwise, he thought; and watched her face, watched the smothered anger in the set of her mouth.

Pattern after pattern after pattern. While the impatience smouldered. He saw it in her. "Haste-kills, girl.

-Remember that. -You have-a great deal too much of it-for your own good."

"What do I do-about a fall-master Saukendar?"

"Break," he said, finishing the patterned move. He was minded to quit. There was still a chill in the air.

He had not been moving hard. His bad leg ached miserably. But:Show her , he thought.Show the d.a.m.n girl something she won't learn so fast.

He threw his practice cane over to the porch, walked over and picked up his sword. She came and retrieved hers.

"Are you going to show me?"

"I'll show you," he said calmly. He walked back out to the tree and squared off against her, waiting.

"Choose your attack."

She lifted her blade, careful movements now, bare steel. "Don't be cutting my feet off."

"I wouldn't think of it. Choose your speed."

She began, a careful, sedate pace, strike and turn. He evaded, struck, evaded, struck, fall about again. d.a.m.n, it was going to hurt. He chose his moment, chose his spot, shifted his weight to his good leg and went down hard, took the impact and used the force to rock himself up to a knee and to his feet with all his old speed.

She jumped back, spun and came in again, and he pulled his blow short, slowly, slower.

"All right," he said, panting. "You."

She looked at him. There was a frown of desperation on her face.