Hoff nailed the roster to the gate post before the lamps were lit on Day fifty-six.
He used four nails, one in each corner, the same as the Ministry courier had used for the notice. He did not look at the Ministry notice while he did it.
The wagon stood in the yard by noon of Day fifty-six, its wheels chocked and its canvas tied down. Two Ministry men checked the axle with a lamp. A third counted bread into a sack, and he counted it out loud, twice.
Calen watched from the step. The dog had not moved from the threshold. It lay with its head toward the yard and its eyes half shut, and the guards had given up stepping over it.
“Read it, Instructor,” said Hoff, when the last nail was in. “Then tell me it is wrong.”
The roster was short. It had been written in Hoff’s own square hand, which was worse than the Ministry clerk’s, because it did not pretend to be anything but a list.
Keep party, to Ostrivane, Sunspire Arena, for the public duels.
Instructor: Orrin, Calen. Rank four, paper.
