Not far from this stable, a young girl lingered in the shadows of the building on the other side of the narrow, muddy street, watching the little group settle their horses in.  Her eyes were the color of the sea on a calm day, when the water is still and clear enough that it almost gives up its deepest secrets, and they now watched steadily.<br/><br/>After a few moments, she nodded faintly to herself and relaxed her vigil, now only half-aware of what they were doing as they chatted a little more and then moved away in search of their meal.  The girl, Signy, found a small patch of grass and knelt gracefully on it, as ladylike as she could be while dressed as a boy, her slender frame hidden beneath rough leggings and a tunic that was slightly too big.  But she was otherwise neat and tidy, her dark blonde hair bound back smoothly, her face and hands as clean as anyone's in the Holdt.  The small bag hanging at her waist was especially well-cared for, made of smooth, unbleached linen, one seam recently painstakingly repaired.  She caressed that spot now, a faint frown crossing her otherwise placid face.<br/><br/>After a moment, her expression cleared and she reached into the bag, drawing out three runes slowly and steadily, and laying them out on the tough, wiry grass before her.  They were made of smooth, ivory bone, each one polished and carved with infinite care, and she let her hand linger on each as she set them down.  Again she nodded faintly, resigned to whatever she saw before her, then returned each rune to her bag with the same steady pace, closing the drawstring carefully before standing, brushing herself off, and continuing on her own way down the street towards the travellers' inn.