It takes Prudence a moment to react, in the way that it never stops being strange that people simply call him 'Barrow': that was her name too, once, and how odd it would be to be known as only that.

"Yes," she says simply, guardedly. These people are strange and their manner is as foreign as the location, across the sea from home, the first time she's ever left it. "You know him?"

This girl is young, solid, plain in a reassuring way. Maybe she'd have looked like this, Prudence thinks, had she become a soldier instead.