But his mind had turned down another path now, apparently, for he said, “My immediate family’s not so large as yours. Just my mother, my brother, and his wife at present. All my brother’s children are out of the tent, on patrol or apprenticed to makers. One son’s string-bound, so far.”

Dag’s nephews and nieces were just about the same age range as Fawn and her brothers, from his descriptions. She nodded.

He went on, “I hope to slip into camp quietly. I’m of two minds whether to report to Fairbolt or my family first. It’s likely rumors have trickled back about the Glassforge malice kill ahead of Mari’s return, in which case Fairbolt will want the news in full. And I have to tell him about the knife. But I’d like to introduce you to my brother and mother in my own way, before they hear anything from anyone else.”

“Well, which one would be less offended to be put second?” asked Fawn.

“Hard to say.” He smiled dryly. “Mama can hold a grudge longer, but Fairbolt has a keen memory for lapses as well.”

“I should not like to begin by offending my new mama-in-law.”

“Spark, I’m afraid some people are going to be offended no matter what you and I do. What we’ve done…isn’t done, though it was done in all honor.”

“Well,” she said, trying for optimism, “some people are like that among farmers, too. No pleasing them. You just try, or at least try not to be the first to break.” She considered the problem. “Makes sense to put the worst one first. Then, if you have to, you can get away by saying you need to go off and see the second.”

He laughed. “Good thinking. Perhaps I will.”

But he didn’t say which he believed was which.

They rode on through the afternoon without stopping. Fawn thought she could tell when they were nearing the lake by a certain lightness growing in the sky and a certain darkness growing in Dag. At any rate, he got quieter and quieter, though his gaze ahead seemed to sharpen. Finally, his head came up, and he murmured, “The bridge guard and I just bumped grounds. Only another mile.”