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coping? Joe doubted it. He sometimes wished his dreams would tell him more.
    â€˜If they have your resilience, they will do very well,’ he said aloud.
    â€˜Good Lord, a compliment.’ Savage smiled as he finished rolling his damp blanket into a neat package. That was another thing about the captain, he did not expect his batman to wait on him hand and foot as some of the other officers did.
    Savage rose to his feet. ‘You know what? My little girl will be almost a woman by the time I get home – it’s her sixteenth birthday next month. She’ll be forgetting what I look like and if this war goes on much longer, so will her mother.’
    This girl, this Llinos, she was a fortunate daughter. She had a father who cared about her, who even now, caught up in war, worried about her welfare.
    â€˜I know Jeremiah will take good care of the place in my absence and Ben, he might be old but he’s a good worker. He’ll keep the apprentices in order.’ Savage began to walk to the edge of the camp where the horses were tethered. It was clear that in spite of his words he was worried.
    He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. ‘We’ll ride ahead, Joe, have a scout around before the army moves on.’ Respectfully, Joe fell in behind him. Now the boundaries between them existed once more, they were on army business.
    â€˜That’s a fine glaze, how do you make that colour?’
    The voice startled Llinos and she looked around to see Mr Cimla standing behind her. He spoke ingratiatingly, rubbing his hands along the sides of his breeches. It seemed he wished to make amends for his vile behaviour of a few nights ago.
    â€˜Yellow oxide.’ Llinos spoke abruptly. ‘Blow out the candles, would you?’
    She put down the pot, unaware of the glaze running between her fingers, and made for the door. She had no intention of being left alone with Mr Cimla ever again.
    In the house, her mother was sitting near the parlour window mending a tear in one of Llinos’s petticoats. She looked up as her daughter entered the room and there was a coldness in her eyes.
    â€˜For heaven’s sake, Llinos, why don’t you wipe your feet? We can’t expect old Nora to clean up after you as well as everything else. You seem to forget, cuts have to be made, the pottery is not as successful as it once was.’
    â€˜Sorry, Mother.’
    â€˜I don’t know why you go about the place like a slut, that apron is filthy.’
    â€˜I’ve been working since daybreak, Mother.’ Llinos sank into a chair. ‘I need more help.’ Llinos rubbed at her hands but the glaze was sticky and clung to her fingers. ‘Now that Binnie’s gone, I can’t manage.’
    â€˜You have old Ben and the apprentices. You are always complaining, Llinos.’
    â€˜I can’t help what you think, Mother. I can’t go on like this.’
    Her mother looked at her closely. ‘Very well, we shall look for someone respectable to help you in the pottery.’ Gwen looked away, lowering her eyes.
    â€˜You might as well listen now you are here. I have something to tell you.’
    Llinos swallowed hard; she anticipated with a feeling of dread the words her mother would say. She attempted to rise but her mother held up her hand.
    â€˜Listen to me! Mr Cimla and I are going to be married.’
    â€˜But, Mother, you are married.’ The words were forced from between her dry lips.
    â€˜Don’t be foolish, Llinos, I’m a widow as well, you know. Your father was killed in action at some place called Leipzig, you saw the letter.’
    â€˜But, Mother, it could be a mistake. You forget, the letter only said Father was missing.’
    â€˜Yes, missing believed killed and not a word from him since. Of course he’s dead. Do you think I want it to be that way? I loved your father.’
    â€˜I know, but things happen in war. Remember one time when we