"Ready!"

Penþa chuckles.

"Alright then. Once upon a time ..."

... there was an old man who lived in the house on the edge of the village with his spouse, and their son and son in law. He had been a gardener, but his aging back kept him out of the fields for the most part. Instead, he used his keen dexterity and a lap-loom to weave tight and intricately colored fabrics.

He could often be found sitting on the bench by the gardens, working on his next weaving project.

One day, just after the spring equinox, he was approached by a woman named Doneg. She told him that she was pregnant, and asked him to make a swaddling blanket for her baby. In exchange, she would pay part of his meal share for the summer out of her contributions of cheese and eggs, since Organizer Kastal had not finalized things yet.

Koralhi congratulated her on having another child, especially as it had been so many years since she had þoni and Ganemki, and gladly agreed to make her a blanket. They went to visit Kastal to register the deal, and he asked her whether she wanted a design on the blanket at all.

Doneg told him that she planned to name the child Soltanes — Rose — and therefore wanted a red rose design included in the blanket.

Kastal registered the deal, and everyone went away satisfied.

The village ate well that summer, and Koralhi made good progress on—

"Yes?"

"What did the deal say?" Adresi asks, face screwed up in careful contemplation.

"Well, we don't normally keep records of every deal quite so long. But because this ended up mattering in a legal case, Kastal did actually copy it out into the records for that year. I have it here."

Penþa picks up a net from the bench, and runs their fingers along it.

"'Doneg to send the kitchens half a wheel of cheese and three weekly eggs over the summer in Koralhi's name, as payment for a baby blanket with a weaving of a rose.'," they read.

"Any other questions yet? No? Okay."

Koralhi made good progress on the blanket. He worked on it every day, to have it ready by the harvest.

Until one day, Doneg's daughter þoni came to him as he was working on the blanket. Now, we do not know exactly what was said. þoni claimed that she had only come to complain about the size of the blanket, which they could see when he worked on it by the garden. Koralhi claimed that she insulted his work, and called it worthless, saying that his work was not worth nearly what her mother was paying for it.

What we do know, is that the very next day, Koralhi visited Kastal to make a complaint about her behavior. Kastal advised him at the time that if things were as he said, then þoni had certainly been rude, but had done nothing illegal.

The next day, Doneg went to Koralhi to assure him that she was grateful for his work on the blanket, and that she would speak with her daughter about the issue of politeness.

Koralhi accepted her words, and reassured her that he held no ill will towards her, and would finish the blanket as agreed — but that he wanted þoni to apologize herself, for her rudeness.

Whether þoni did or not is not recorded, but if she didn't, Koralhi didn't make a further issue of it. Soon enough the summer passed, and the blanket neared completion.

But Doneg would not see it completed. She went into labor almost a month early, and despite the best care the village could provide, both she and the unborn Soltanes died.

The blanket was nearly done, though, and Doneg had already paid her part of the bargain. As the village mourned, Koralhi worked to finish it. He finished it just before the harvest ...

... and gave it to Ganemki.

Now Ganemki was older, and did not live with his mother on her farm, but in the village with his wife, who was a fisher. They did not have a baby at the time, but it was not a matter of waiting for the festivals, for they were newly wed and very much in love.

þoni did not think it was fair, that Koralhi had given the blanket to her brother — for she still lived in her mother's house, with her father and grandparent, and had inherited all her mother's other things, since Ganemki had married into another house.

She came to Kastal, and asked to sue for the blanket back.

Penþa accepts a cup of berry juice handed up to them, and takes a sip.

"And what happened next?" Daskal asks, leaning forward. The firelight creates shifting motes of light and shadow, reflected in his eyes.

"Well, Organizer Kastal investigated to see what people had to say, and listened to everybody's arguments, and rendered a judgement," Penþa explains. "But this isn't an ordinary story — I want to see what you think should have been done. So imagine that you're Organizer Kastal. What would you need to discover or look up to know whether þoni should get the blanket?"

"Did Doneg say who she wanted to have it?" one child asks.