Each possibility was logical; Radnal wished he could choose between them. Since he couldn’t, he said, “There’s nothing we can do about it now, so we might as well sleep. In the morning, I’ll tell the tourists we’re going east, not west. That’s an interesting excursion, too. It-”

Peggol raised a hand. “Since I’ll see it tomorrow, why not keep me in suspense?” He twisted this way and that.

“You can’t die of an impacted fundament, can you?”

“I’ve never heard of it happening, anyhow.” Radnal hid a smile.

“Maybe I’ll be a medical first, and get written up in all the physicians’ codices.” Peggol rubbed the afflicted parts.

“And I’ll have to go riding again tomorrow, eh? How unfortunate.”

“If we don’t get some sleep soon, we’ll both be dozing in the saddle,” Radnal said, yawning. “It must be a couple of daytenths past sunset by now. I thought Moblay would never head for his cubicle.”

“Maybe he was just fond of you, Radnal.” Liem vez Steries put a croon in the guide’s name that burlesqued the way the Lissonese kept leaving off the polite particle.

Radnal snapped, “Night demons carry you off, Liem vez, the ideas you come up with.” He waited for the militiaman to taunt him about Evillia and Lofosa, but Liem left that alone. He wondered what ideas the two girls from the Krepalgan Unity had come up with, and whether they’d use them with him tonight. He hoped not — as he’d told Peggol, he did need sleep. Then he wondered if putting sleep ahead of fornication meant he was getting old.

If it did, too bad, he decided. Along with Peggol and Liem, he walked back to the lodge. The other militiamen and Eyes and Ears reported in whispers — all quiet.