Though I had been struck by the brutality of her words, I had been struck even more by the anguish in her voice. Eremon rose slowly to face her. “Would it be fair to say, my sister, that Hevydd might have lived if he had understood more?” “Perhaps,” she replied, pausing even longer than usual before she continued. “Yet it would also be fair to ask: Did the fault belong to him, or to the man who slew him?” “Both,” I declared, standing once more. “That’s usually the way of it. With fault, I mean. I’ve seen how often my own faults combine with someone else’s to make things worse.” While Hallia backed away, to the very edge of the stream, Eremon remained still, watching me quizzically. “And how, young hawk, do you know so much about your faults?” Without hesitation, I answered: “I have a sister.” His whole face wrinkled in a smile—which vanished as soon as Hallia glanced at him sharply.
