"Student Olarion. A moment."
Arcten said it without looking up from the slate, and Valeria, already half turned toward the yard gate, turned back.
Behind him the barrier frames were going onto a cart in pairs, and the chalk bend where Reilan's line had stood had been scuffed to a gray smear. At the far edge of the yard, Reilan himself waited where he had been told to wait, one hand opening and closing at his side.
Arcten turned the slate so she could see it. His entry ran to six lines, in a hand that looked as though it had once signed battalion orders.
"You had the whole lane from where you stood," he said. "What would you add?"
"That Student Reilan relieved his right-hand fighter before the man began to falter." She had not needed to think about it. "It should be in the entry. The line lasted as long as it did because of that change."
"It isn't in the entry."
"No."
He wrote it into the margin without argument and tucked the slate under his arm. "That will do."
