The light was still grey over the east wall when Calen set the test. The horses were in the lower yard, and Hoff was walking them back and forth on the cobbles, and nobody had yet said the word for saddling.
“Liss,” said Calen. “Mark test.”
She came to the spot and stood on it. She had slept, or she had not, and her face showed nothing either way. Her hands were low over her belt.
“Three runs,” said Calen. “Ten counts each. Three in a row, clean, with nobody in front of you.”
“Nobody in front of me,” said Liss.
“There is no copy for you to follow. I will stand with my back to you.”
He turned round. He walked to the feed shed, and stood with his face to the stone wall, and he put his hands behind his back so there was nothing to see but his coat. He did not look over his shoulder.
He could hear her, though. He could hear her boots on the stones and the small sound of her breath going down into her ribs.
