The Name of the Wind Read Free Page B

drawing together. “I’m not an idiot, you
know.”
    Bast visibly relaxed, settling back into his chair.
“I know you’re not, Reshi. But I wouldn’t trust half these people to piss
leeward without help.” He looked thoughtful for a moment. “I can’t imagine why
there was only one.”
    “Maybe they died coming over the mountains,” Kote
suggested. “All but this one.”
    “It’s possible,” Bast admitted reluctantly.
    “Maybe it was that storm from a couple days back,”
Kote pointed out. “A real wagon-tipper, as we used to say back in the troupe.
All the wind and rain might have scattered one loose from the pack.”
    “I like your first idea better, Reshi,” Bast said
uncomfortably. “Three or four scrael would go through this town like…like…”
    “Like a hot knife through butter?”
    “More like several hot knives through several dozen
farmers,” Bast said dryly. “These people can’t defend themselves. I bet there
aren’t six swords in this whole town. Not that swords would do much good
against the scrael.”
    There was a long moment of thoughtful silence.
After a moment Bast began to fidget. “Any news?”
    Kote shook his head. “They didn’t get to the news
tonight. Carter disrupted things while they were still telling stories. That’s
something, I suppose. They’ll be back tomorrow night. It’ll give me something
to do.”
    Kote poked his spoon idly into the stew. “I should
have bought the scrael from Carter,” he mused. “He could’ve used the money for
a new horse. People would have come from all over to see it. We could have had
some business for a change.”
    Bast gave him a speechless, horrified look.
    Kote made a pacifying gesture with the hand that
held the spoon. “I’m joking, Bast.” He gave a weak smile. “Still, it would have
been nice.”
    “No Reshi, it most certainly would not have been nice,” Bast said emphatically. “‘People
would have come from all over to see it,’” he repeated derisively. “Indeed.”
    “The business would have
been nice,” Kote clarified. “Busy-ness would be nice.” He jabbed his spoon into
the stew again. “Anything would be nice.”
    They sat for a long moment. Kote scowling down into
the bowl of stew in his hands, his eyes far away. “It must be awful for you
here, Bast,” he said at last. “You must be numb with boredom.”
    Bast shrugged. “There are a few young wives in
town. A scattering of daughters.” He grinned like a child. “I tend to make my
own fun.”
    “That’s good, Bast.” There was another silence.
Kote took another spoonful, chewed, swallowed. “They thought it was a demon,
you know.”
    Bast shrugged. “It might as well be, Reshi. It’s
probably the best thing for them to think.”
    “I know. I encouraged them, in fact. But you know
what that means.” He met Bast’s eyes. “The blacksmith is going to be doing a
brisk business in the next couple days.”
    Bast’s expression went carefully blank. “Oh.”
    Kote nodded. “I won’t blame you if you want to
leave, Bast. You have better places to be than this.”
    Bast’s expression was shocked. “I couldn’t leave,
Reshi.” He opened and closed his mouth a few times, at a loss for words. “Who
else would teach me?”
    Kote grinned, and for a moment his face showed how
truly young he was. Behind the weary lines and the placid innkeeper’s
expression he looked no older than his dark-haired companion. “Who indeed?” He
gestured toward the door with his spoon. “Go do your reading then, or bother
someone’s daughter. I’m sure you have better things to do than watch me eat.”
    “Actually…”
    “Begone demon!” Kote said, switching to a thickly
accented Temic through half a mouthful of stew. “Tehus
antausa eha!”
    Bast burst into startled laughter and made an
obscene gesture with one hand.
    Kote swallowed and changed languages. “Aroi te denna-leyan!”
    “Oh come now,” Bast reproached, his smile falling
away.