Location:Ferrow's Rest — The Sexton's Yard; The Screening Shed; The Graded Bed
Date/Time:TC1857.05.14 – TC1857.05.16
The paste tasted of nothing for the first count and then of wax and something green and bitter under it, and Maren Harren had been putting it on her own tongue twice a week for seven months and had never once got used to it.
"You don't have to do it with them," Emrys Dunmore observed from the door.
"I do." She got the wooden spoon out and wiped it. "Forty-one people in this village have had that in their mouths because I asked them to, and three of them cried about it, and if I sat on a stool and watched I'd be a woman asking other people to do a thing. Which I am. But there's two kinds."
Emrys grunted, which was the whole of what he thought about that, and came in and sat down anyway.
