“Let it go, then,” he said with a weary nod. He was still wearyall the time. He was so weary, a couple of days could go by without his havingany interest in making love. Before he got sick, he wouldn’t have believed sucha thing possible.

But, weary or not, he had to go out to buy food, for the cupboardsin the flat were nearly empty. If he didn’t go out, Vanai would have to. She’ddone it once. He didn’t want her to have to do it twice, not when the redheadedoccupiers of Forthweg had made her kind fair game.

Moving like a man four times his age, he walked to the marketsquare to buy beans and dried peas and barley and lentils. As long as he andVanai had enough of those, they wouldn’t starve. The trouble was, he couldn’tcarry so much as he had before, either. That meant he had to make two trips tobring back the food he should have been able to take in one. By the time hefinally got through, he felt ready for the knacker’s yard.

Vanai fixed him a cup of mint tea. After he’d drunk it, she halfdragged him to the bedroom, peeled his shoes off him, and made him lie down. Hehoped she would lie down beside him, or on top of him, or however she chose.Instead, she said, “Go to sleep.”

He did. When he woke, he felt much more like himself. By then,Vanai did lie curled beside him. Her mouth had fallen open; she was snoring alittle. He looked over at her and smiled. She didn’t just know what he wanted.She knew what he needed, too, and that was liable to be more important.

A couple of days later, he started going out and about throughEoforwic, seeing the people for whom he cast accounts. He discovered he’d losta couple of them to other bookkeepers: inevitable, he supposed, when he hadn’tbeen able to let them know why he wasn’t showing up. That he’d kept as manyclients as he had pleased him very much.