Chasers of the Wind Read Free Page B

and beautiful. She has long blond hair and dark blue eyes. So, what do you think? Are there any people like that in your village?”
    “There might be,” said the cowherd reluctantly. “I don’t really have the time to remember. I’ve got to herd the cows. Or Father will cuss me.”
    “I hope this will jog your memory.” The rider threw Pork a coin.
    Pork caught it and his jaw dropped. The silly bear had thrown him a whole sol! Now he could buy himself sweets and eat them where no one could see. Pork wouldn’t share them with anyone. That’d show them, calling him an idiot! The cowherd bit into the coin and, quickly, so they wouldn’t be able to take it away, hid it in his bag.
    “You described them really well. That’s Pars and his wife, Ann. I recognized them right away.”
    The men exchanged looks.
    “Where can we find them?”
    “Oh, that’s really easy. He lives just outside the village, not far from the blacksmith’s shop. You’ll see his house right away. It has little ponies with wings etched on the gates. They’re pretty. I want some. If you go through the whole village, you’ll see it.”
    “Has he been living here for a long time?”
    “I can’t remember.” The half-wit scrunched up his brow, strenuously trying to recall. “A long time.”
    “Take it easy, friend,” said the lean rider.
    The strangers turned their horses. When they got to the road Pork’s shout carried to them.
    “Hey, misters! It’s just that Pars can’t shoot from the saddle. He’s a carpenter!”
    *   *   *
    “Did you need to coddle him so, Whip?” petulantly asked the rider that Pork had dubbed young. “Why did you need to have that conversation with a half-wit? We could have asked anyone we met in the village.”
    “It’s so kind of you to try to teach me. Anyone else we met wouldn’t be an idiot. You couldn’t have bribed them for a sol. You don’t know villagers. They won’t budge if they’ve decided they don’t like your face, and then there’s nothing you can do.”
    “We could tickle them with our knives.”
    “Well, then you would be the idiot, Shen,” sneered Whip. “Four against how many? This is not the outlying towns of Al’sgara with our timid peasants. The locals here wouldn’t jump at the sight of your blade and fawn over you. These places are savage. Every man can stand for himself. There’s enough axes and clubs around here that you won’t know what hit you. No little knife would save you.”
    “Well, then we could just check every home ourselves. We’d find him somewhere.”
    “Oh yes, very simple. Sixty households. How much time do you think we’d need to get that done?”
    “An hour? Maybe two?”
    “Exactly. And if we encounter some kind soul who runs off and warns him about our arrival? And he decides he has nothing to say to us? What then? Do you want to go to Mols and offer excuses?”
    This last argument completely drained the young man of his desire to quarrel. He petulantly pursed his lips and fell silent.
    In the meantime the riders had crested the hill and caught sight of Dog Green. The village was situated along both banks of a narrow river. The idiot had led them astray—there were far more than sixty houses. To the right of the road was a small graveyard, and just a bit farther on, a clear-cut area. On the farther shore there was a field, upon which encroached the gloomy wall of impenetrable forest. The village, lost on the edge of the province, had been carved out in a circle from the forests, low hills, and numerous ravines.
    Whip’s team had taken a long time to get here from Al’sgara. These last few days they had been forced to sleep beneath the open sky. For leagues around there was not a single inn. They had completely left behind tolerable food, wine, and women. All they had for company were mosquitoes and gadflies. Thank Melot that they hadn’t encountered any forest spirits or goves (a species of lower demon) in the wilderness. They had