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lame horse, a broken plow, a
hailstorm wiping out a field of crops, almost anything could spell disaster for
a family already on the edge of poverty. And some people resented that the Bladewells
owned their land, and their home was one of the best pieces of farmland in the
entire county.
    It was most
unfortunate, therefore, that Bodric took Koren with him to the grain mill, a
couple weeks before Koren ’ s
thirteenth birthday. That mill, along with the bridge across the river, were
the only reasons for the village of Crebb ’ s
Ford to exist. Although no one particularly liked the miller, and his boys were
bullies, the miller was grudgingly honest and his prices for grinding grain
were mostly fair, and the closest other mill was a full day ’ s journey along the river
to the west.
    When they
arrived at the mill that fateful morning, Bodric left Koren to tend to the
wagon, and get water for their horse. Koren carefully put wooden blocks under
the wagon ’ s
wheels, unhitched the horse, and led the horse to the millrace stream to drink.
The miller ’ s
two boys, seeing a chance for a bit of mischief, crawled over to the wagon and
slipped the blocks from under the wheels. They were trying to hide in the tall
grass and keep from laughing out loud, when they noticed that the wagon was
rolling the wrong way. Rolling straight for their father ’ s mill!
    What the
miller ’ s sons
should have done was to stop the wagon, but because they were cowardly bullies,
they lay still and hoped they could blame it on Koren.
    When Koren saw
the wagon rolling toward the mill, he shouted in alarm, which caused the horse
to bolt away. Koren ran after the wagon as fast as his legs could carry him,
and grasped onto the tailgate, digging his heels into the dirt and trying to
pull the wagon to a halt. The wagon was far too heavy for the boy, it dragged
him with it as it rolled straight for the door of the mill. Koren swung his
legs up, planted his heels in the dirt road, closed his eyes and gave one
mighty heave with all his strength-
    And the wagon
did stop , at the same moment that the great waterwheel of the mill also stopped ,
causing the machinery inside the mill to break, shatter and fly around inside
the stone building. Bodric and the miller ran out of the mill, holding their
arms over their heads, and flung themselves flat on the ground, while the
waterwheel jerked back to life, sending more large pieces of machinery flying
about.
    The miller ’ s boys ran up to their
father, blaming Koren for the wagon almost crashing into the mill, but the
miller did not care about any stupid wagon. His mill! His precious mill was
ruined! Ruined, and he might not have it fixed in time for the autumn harvest
that year! What a disaster for the miller, and for the farmers of Crebb ’ s Ford, who now had no
place to take their grain for grinding!
    The miller was
sputtering with anger, pulling out tufts of his beard and yelling words that
Koren ’ s mother
had told him were very bad things to say. And saying bad things about
Koren, that it was all Koren ’ s
fault, that the boy was a jinx. Bodric shouted back that if the miller had
taken proper care of his clunky machinery, it would not have broken. Both men
were red-faced from shouting. They almost came to blows before Bodric told
Koren to catch the horse, hitch it to the wagon, they would be leaving. Good
riddance, said the miller, and don ’ t
come back, ever! The Bladewells could bring their grain to some other mill in
the future, he would not be grinding it for them, ever again!
    The miller
went to the Golden Trout Inn that evening to drown his sorrows in a mug of
beer, and the more he drank, the louder and more angry he became. Something would
have to be done about that Koren Bladewell boy, something soon, he declared to
anyone who would listen. Among the farmers in the common room of the Golden
Trout that night, he found an agreeable audience. The news that the village ’ s only mill might not