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knelt to unfasten it.
    I had never heard my father’s voice softer. “Not that. Her.”
    Blushing furiously at his error, the boy ordered his sister to strip, trying to help her with inexpert hands. Solemnly my father inspected the trade goods. I suppose he was establishing that the girl was a virgin and had not been a victim of incest. I do not recall what emotions she was showing. I probably did not care, and I was certainly not looking at her face.
    He rose. “She is as you state.” That sounded like a set speech also. “In trade I offer my daughter, Hanthar, who is likewise unspoiled, well trained, and of good stock, suitably furnished.”
    I had forgotten how to breathe while this was taking place in that little hollow. Marsh worms could have eaten off my toes and I would not have noticed. Now my sister had to remove her clothing also. The boy inspected her briefly, but even then I doubted that he knew what he was looking for. He straightened up, redder than ever and obviously at a loss. Probably his instruction had not gone as far as this.
    A small smile escaped from within my father’s beard at that point, one of the very few I can ever remember seeing there. He offered a hand. The boy flinched and then shook it as if he had never shaken hands before. The girls were hastily dressing.
    “Go with this man and serve him well,” my father said, giving Hanthar a gentle push. He beckoned to Jalinan. When she stooped to raise her bundle, he told her softly to leave it. “Two woollies are not enough,” he said. “I shall send out two more.”
    “Sir…you are most generous.” The lad seemed thunderstruck.
    “I should not want my daughter to starve,” my father said, almost as if that were an admission of weakness.
    Hanthar carried the two bundles off, following the boy. My father watched until they were halfway up the hill before turning away himself. He would have been taking a last, sentimental look at his departing chick, or perhaps he was guarding against treachery.
    By the time we reached the camp, the women had already erected a sixth tent. My father said only, “This is Jalinan,” and handed her over to Amby.
    He sent Indarth off with two woollies and then attended to his horse, ignoring the large band of curious onlookers. We boys all wanted to know what would happen next.
    What happened next was not very informative. The women had prepared a large and steaming dish of food. I expect Amby had also prepared and instructed Jalinan, who was waiting within the new tent. My father took the dish and entered. The flap closed, shutting out our eyes, if not our imaginations. A couple of my half-brothers claimed to have caught a glimpse of the new woman with no clothes on. I, of course, could brag about my earlier comprehensive overview.
    Eventually we lost interest, as boys will, and wandered away to bathe, for whatever was happening seemed to be taking a very long time. I expect it was done gently. He was a kindly man, and patient.
    That, then, was the third of my four landmarks. Now I knew the ending of the ceremony that began when a boy was ordered to raise his arms. How much time elapsed before the fourth landmark, I cannot say. Not a long time, I think, but long enough for little Jalinan to be accepted as just one more of the women and to start to swell into a woman’s normal shape.
    It happened with no warning. Once again I was by the fire and eating—I have already confessed the appetite I had in my youth. I think I was the first to notice the stranger walking boldly into camp. He was young, with only a shadow of a beard; tall, but slender as a dead tree. I remember my astonishment at the thinness and length of his legs. His ragged pagne reached barely to his knees. He had a bulky bundle under one arm and a bow on his shoulder, a much longer bow than my father used. And he carried a sword in his free hand.
    The women shrilled in terror and then fell silent as the stranger approached the fire. They rose