Grandmother Zillah had apparently come by for a private word with Ikash’s father.

“Not forever, my son,” he heard her say. “Surely you and the boys can shift for yourselves for one winter.”

Ikash did not want to hear this conversation, but now he was trapped in the bunk while it was going on. He pulled a blanket over his head and tried to go back to sleep. He found his mind skipping over the actual content of his father’s words (this was a tactic that had often helped him to stay sane), but focusing in curiously on the words of Zillah. Had she really said something about Mother going away for the winter? Where could she possibly go?

He heard her say “You remember all the trouble that Ninna had,” and “Sari loves to cook.”

“She’ll bungle it up,” said his father. “She always does.”

“Always?” said Zillah. “No one is perfect, you know.”

“You were, Mother. I remember.”

“I had servants helping me, foolish boy! I had Shufer and Shulgi to help me clean and cook, and a whole farm to supply our house in the city.”

About half these words were unknown to Ikash. “Servants,” “city,” and even “farm” carried only the vaguest meanings in his mind.

The Strange Land, by me, p. 36