Clucking like a mother hen, the farrier settled the enormous Balaclava. black massive poor cozily into the lap of her leather apron, picked up a sharp, short-bladed knife, and begun pairing at the edges with deft, quick flicks. Helen Marsh, Who had been Helen Marsh until a couple of months ago, stood as close as she dared, watching. She was still trying to learn her way around the sprawling complex on Balaclava Agriculture College, and the animal husbandry barns were her current field of investigation.