The Rosetta Codex Read Free Page B

animal both behind and in front of the saddle. Surefooted despite the slick and uneven ground, the great beast marched with its maned head held high, as if proud of both itself and its rider. As the man rode past, heturned and looked at Cale, raised his hat in greeting—revealing a large, glistening shaved head—and rode on.
    Aglaia was no longer in sight, the candle extinguished, the window dark and empty. Man and beast rode steadily through the village, then pulled up just before they reached the last of the dwellings. The man glanced to the left, turned the animal, and they disappeared between two huts. Cale remained at the window a long time, but the rider did not reappear.
    Â 
    Storms pounded them nonstop for three more days. No one mentioned the man until Cale asked. Marta, the woman who provided his room and meals, said only that the man’s name was Blackburn and that he was staying with Dextram, the village headman. Marta’s brother, a bitter and unhealthy man called Walker, whose hair periodically fell in patches from his scalp, scowled at her and said, “Not another damn word.”
    On the fourth day after the man arrived, the rain let up and there was regular work again. Cale spent the morning down at the lakeshore, cleaning, scraping, and sorting split blade-clam shells in a light drizzle. Faint vibrations in the ground beneath him. Regular beats. Cale looked up to see the man approaching atop the great maned beast. He still wore the wide-brimmed hat, the black greatcoat that reached his calves. The animal’s massive, metal-shod hooves kicked up mud with each step, and its head shook and whipped the reins, which Blackburn held loosely in his hand.
    He kicked loose a stirrup extension and dismounted; he seemed small next to the animal, the top of his hat onlyreaching midneck. He looped the reins around the branch of a dead, fire-scarred log and came forward. Cale rocked back on his haunches, bloody hands resting on his knees, and looked up at the man.
    â€œRough work,” the man said.
    Cale shrugged, rubbed his nose with the back of his hand. Now that the man was on foot and away from the huge animal, Cale could see that he was tall, though his build was obscured within the folds of the coat, and his skin was weathered. The man sat on a tree stump; water dripped from the brim of his hat. Cale thought he smelled tobacco smoke.
    â€œYou weren’t here the last time I came through,” the man said. “They tell me you’ve been here less than half a year.” When Cale did not respond, the man said, “They tell me your name is Cale.”
    â€œWhat’s yours ?” Although he knew.
    â€œBlackburn. Is your name Cale?”
    Cale hesitated, then reluctantly nodded.
    â€œWhat’s your surname?” Blackburn asked.
    Cale shook his head.
    â€œCan’t remember, or don’t have one?” Or won’t tell me? was the question unsaid but understood by both of them.
    â€œDon’t know,” Cale said. The drizzle had washed away most of the blood, but he still felt a sting in the thin slices across his fingers and palms. Walker, Marta’s brother, stood on the crest of a low dune back from the water’s edge, wet stringy hair whipped by the wind; he stared at Cale with his permanent scowl. “I need to get back to work,” Cale said.
    Blackburn turned and looked at Walker. “It’s all right. No one will object if you’re talking to me.”
    â€œUntil you’re gone, maybe.”
    â€œNo, not even then. Because they know I’ll be back.” He returned his attention to Cale. “I understand your people live on the other side of the lake. That you left them a few years ago.”
    â€œThey weren’t my people.”
    â€œNo?”
    â€œNo.” Cale stopped, but Blackburn gazed intently at him, waiting to hear an explanation. There was something about the man, the way he listened and watched, that