The Name of the Wind Read Free Page A

room, a pair of chairs, and a small desk. The only other
furniture was a narrow bed with a large, dark chest at its foot. Nothing
decorated the walls or covered the wooden floor.
    There were footsteps in the hall, and a young man
stepped into the room carrying a bowl of stew that steamed and smelled of
pepper. He was dark and charming, with a quick smile and cunning eyes. “You
haven’t been this late in weeks,” he said as he handed over the bowl. “There
must have been good stories tonight, Reshi.”
    Reshi was another of the innkeeper’s names, a
nickname almost. The sound of it tugged one corner of his mouth into a wry
smile as he sank into the deep chair in front of the fire. “So, what did you
learn today, Bast?”
    “Today, master, I learned why great lovers have
better eyesight than great scholars.”
    “And why is that, Bast?” Kote asked, amusement
touching the edges of his voice.
    Bast closed the door and returned to sit in the
second chair, turning it to face his teacher and the fire. He moved with a
strange delicacy and grace, as if he were close to dancing. “Well Reshi, all
the rich books are found inside where the light is bad. But lovely girls tend
to be out in the sunshine and therefore much easier to study without risk of
injuring one’s eyes.”
    Kote nodded. “But an exceptionally clever student
could take a book out-side, thus bettering himself without fear of lessening
his much-loved faculty of sight.”
    “I thought the same thing, Reshi. Being, of course,
an exceptionally clever student.”
    “Of course.”
    “But when I found a place in the sun where I could
read, a beautiful girl came along and kept me from doing anything of the sort,”
Bast finished with a flourish.
    Kote sighed. “Am I correct in assuming you didn’t
manage to read any of Celum Tinture today?”
    Bast managed to look somewhat ashamed.
    Looking into the fire, Kote tried to assume a stern
face and failed. “Ah Bast, I hope she was lovely as a warm wind in the shade.
I’m a bad teacher to say it, but I’m glad. I don’t feel up to a long bout of
lessons right now.” There was a moment of silence. “Carter was attacked by a
scraeling tonight.”
    Bast’s easy smile fell away like a cracked mask,
leaving his face stricken and pale. “The scrael?” He came halfway to his feet
as if he would bolt from the room, then gave an embarrassed frown and forced
himself back down into his chair. “How do you know? Who found his body?”
    “He’s still alive, Bast. He brought it back. There
was only one.”
    “There’s no such thing as one scraeling,” Bast said
flatly. “You know that.”
    “I know,” Kote said. “The fact remains there was
only one.”
    “And he killed it?” Bast
said. “It couldn’t have been a scraeling. Maybe—”
    “Bast, it was one of the scrael. I saw it.” Kote
gave him a serious look. “He was lucky, that’s all. Even so he was badly hurt.
Forty-eight stitches. I used up nearly all my gut.” Kote picked up his bowl of
stew. “If anyone asks, tell them my grandfather was a caravan guard who taught
me how to clean and stitch a wound. They were too shocked to ask about it
tonight, but tomorrow some of them might get curious. I don’t want that.” He
blew into his bowl, raising a cloud of steam around his face.
    “What did you do with the body?”
    “ I didn’t do anything
with it,” Kote said pointedly. “ I am just an
innkeeper. This sort of thing is quite beyond me.”
    “Reshi, you can’t just let them muddle through this
on their own.”
    Kote sighed. “They took it to the priest. He did
all the right things for all the wrong reasons.”
    Bast opened his mouth, but Kote continued before he
could say anything. “Yes, I made sure the pit was deep enough. Yes, I made sure
there was rowan wood in the fire. Yes, I made sure it burned long and hot
before they buried it. And yes, I made sure that no one kept a piece of it as a
souvenir.” He scowled, his eyebrows