Ear had the gate bar up before the first wheel reached it.
He stood at the post with one hand on the iron and his scarred ear turned toward the road, and he did not say a word while the wagons came in. Calen counted them. Three wagons, two carts, one grey horse led on a rope. The wheels were loud on the stone, and the dust they threw up hung in the grey light over the yard.
Hask Keep looked smaller after three days on the wagon road. The walls were the same. The stable roof still sagged at the north corner. The pennant on the gatepost had gone grey with dust, and nobody had taken it down.
“Ten,” said Ear, to nobody in particular, and he let the bar fall behind the last cart.
The class climbed down slowly. Liss was first, because she always was. She stood in the yard and looked at the cell doors as if she were counting the locks.
Kade came down with his hat in his hand and dust on his good coat. He brushed at the coat with the flat of his palm and gave up. Hesper jumped the last step and landed without a sound. Ysra came down with her hand on the rail and her book under her arm, and she did not look at the gate once.
