Turning the page necessitated putting a hand out of the thick fur blanket. Even in front of the fireplace, it was not nearly warm enough yet, Sarah thought, making the sacrifice with a shiver. And the water for her tea, which had started out as ice, wasn't even steaming.

She'd managed to get the fire up to the brightness she wanted with only the occasional flicker, after half an hour's work on the spell. Its heat was most important, with the chill of the mountain winter invading the stone floors of her home, but Sarah had wanted to read by the firelight. She had the time to spare. Tosca was well snowed in for what looked to be a bad winter, the present heavy snowfall proof there would be no sudden thaw, and even knowing she wouldn't actually die of the cold, Sarah had no intention of venturing even so far as the nearby village.

The trip to Numara had left her with plenty of new books to go over and plenty of ideas to research, but still, it would be a lonely winter. Sarah hadn't minded that so much before she'd known how much nicer it was to have Kaim's company.

The thought of her husband made her smile, shrugging deeper into the fur he'd made for her. At least news of him had reached Tosca before the snow. A small army, not expected to win, had successfully defended its homeland, because a mercenary had shown unexpected skill and rallied the soldiers for an ambush. When you were looking, it wasn't too hard to tell where Kaim had been.

His letter, which had also reached Tosca just before the snow, said only, We won. I'm delayed. Home soon.

They hadn't seen each other since parting in late spring almost two years ago. Sarah sighed, and tried to concentrate on her book.

Some indeterminable time later, a heavy thump from the direction of the entryway pulled her attention away. Reluctantly, Sarah left the blanket and the fire and walked toward the cold.

Another thump. It didn't sound like a knock--possibly a tree branch had blown loose and stuck in her doorway, it happened from time to time.

The heavy doors were frozen shut. Wincing in anticipation, she threw her weight back until the door came open, with the icy breath of winter.

Snow spilled in, all over the threshold, and a hard, fur-covered form followed it, sprawling on the stone floor.

Sarah blinked twice, shivering, and gasped, "Oh, Kaim!"

Her husband made a stiff and unsuccessful attempt to roll over. Sarah got hold of his arms, and managed to pull him far enough inside to shut the door on the biting wind.

Under the fur coat, he was wearing an armored chestplate, which stuck painfully to her skin where she brushed against it. Sarah winced at how that must feel from the inside, wrapped her hand with a thin layer of cloth from her skirt, and slipped her fingers in to tug at the frozen fastenings.

"I don't want you to think that I'm not happy to see you," she began, with considerable asperity, "but what were you thinking, Kaim?"

He didn't answer, which was hardly surprising. From the bloodless state of his skin and the sheer cold of the wind, if he were mortal, it would be too late to save all his limbs from frostbite. Even without that worry, it was obvious that her husband was deep in shock, his body too cold to think, or move, or even try to warm up again. Sarah was determined not to speculate on just how many times Kaim must have collapsed in the snow, revived and kept coming, in order to get here.

The armor hit the floor with several loud clangs, leaving him in padding that had iced over where sweat or snowmelt had dampened it. His hands were stiff and whiter than the snow, and Sarah wrapped her own hands around them even as the cold bit painfully into her fingers. "Come on, Kaim," she murmured, half-dragging him to his feet and guiding him toward the warmth of the fire.

Once she had Kaim safely seated, Sarah stripped the last of the damp clothing from him gently, especially where it had frozen to the skin. Her fur blanket was still where she had dropped it, and she settled it temporarily around his shoulders and looked at his feet.

Kaim had never spared any expense for his boots, but even so, the wind or a fall along the way had eventually driven snow down into them, and his feet were worse off than his hands. Sarah shook her head, took a firm grip on both feet, and cast a minor healing spell. She could only heal the damage, and that would be gone soon enough even if she didn't. The change in temperature was still going to hurt.

It was a long few minutes' work to pull the boots off, but Kaim wouldn't be too pleased if she damaged them getting them off. At the moment, the only extra boots he had at the house were patched down the seam, and definitely better suited for warm weather.

"You didn't have to freeze to death getting here," she muttered, though she couldn't muster the acid for an actual scold. It was an utterly senseless thing to do, and at the same time so sweet. "You knew I wouldn't mind if you'd kept warm till thaw. I can wait."

"I knew," Kaim said, with half a tired smile. He'd begun to shiver, which was actually a good thing, but it made the words come out uncharacteristically stilted. "I couldn't."

Sarah shook her head again, and didn't bother to suppress her smile. "I'm glad you're home," she said, with deep sincerity, setting the second boot aside to dry by the fire. "But maybe we'd better work on getting our next trip to end in summer."

She tucked Kaim's icy feet under the fur. The tea in her kettle was warm enough now, so she reached for the handle--and jerked her fingers back, mildly scorched. Ouch! She'd forgotten again that she didn't presently have her heat-absorption spell active, drat it. It was invaluable in the kitchen, but made her feel too cold the rest of the time.

"Forgot again," Kaim pointed out, with far too much cheer.

Sarah chuckled. "Thank you, I noticed." She actually had remembered to bring a potholder with the kettle. The tea poured, steaming, into her mug without further trouble, and she folded Kaim's numb hands around it, behind the fur. "Drink that."

He obeyed, sipping the warm liquid with a faint clack of teeth chattering on the edge of the mug. Sarah sat down next to him, shivering herself, and unlaced her comfortable dress before she could think better of it, slipping under the fur beside her husband. She wrapped her arms around him, skin to skin, which could have been a lot more pleasant if he had been warmer than a block of ice.

Still, blood was returning to his face, so he'd be warm soon enough. "Your letter said you won," she began, tentatively. Win or lose, the wars Kaim fought in were not always something he wanted to think about at home, but she always tried to give him the chance if he did want to talk.

Kaim grunted softly. "They actually wanted to declare me king. Can you imagine?"

Sarah laughed at the picture of Kaim's respectful followers--he always made those--trying to shove a crown on his unwilling head. "It seems to work for Ming, but it certainly isn't either of our style." Ming, gifted with leadership, administration, and near-infinite patience, had been Queen of Numara for hundreds of years. Sarah wouldn't have taken the job for any reason in the world.

"How is she?" Kaim asked, reminded.

"Hmm," Sarah sighed, with very faint envy, "she's building another library. Oh, and she says the money you invested in the Numaran sea trade three hundred fifty years ago is getting to be a ridiculous amount in the modern economy, and asks us please not to take it all out at once. Things are peaceful down that way this decade."

Kaim set aside the mug, and slid a much warmer hand down Sarah's shoulder. "Good to hear."

It was, Sarah decided, very definitely going to be a much better winter than she'd hoped.