Maren received them in a room that had once been a granary.
The old shelves still lined the walls, though the grain had long since disappeared. Now they held bundles of cloth, jars, tools, and the accumulated necessities of a settlement that had learned to make use of whatever space remained.
One guard stood beside the door.
He wasn't rigidly at attention.
He simply watched.
The same careful suspicion Vane had seen everywhere in this half of Meridine.
Maren sat at the far end of a rough wooden table.
She was older than Vane had expected, though there was nothing frail about her. The years sat in her posture, in the stillness of her hands, in the way she seemed to have learned that reacting quickly was rarely worth the information it cost.
"You carried Dessa's basket across."
She said it before anyone had finished sitting.
Vane nodded.
"We did."
"Why?"
Valerica answered.
"A woman needed medicine for her sister. Neither side of your wall was letting her take it across."
