Their current campground was observed, to the amusement of its inhabitants, by two enormous eyes that peered at them from above a ridge of mountains west of them, beyond the lake. These were the two pinnacles of Frog Eye Mountain, two sheer, polished stone surfaces that shone with reflected light and were capped with forested ridges that much resembled eyelids. Their attention was drawn, however, to movement on the road, far below them, where an indiscriminate black dot had become a dot with legs and then a dot with arms as well. The rider had familiar characteristics.
Chippy sighed. “That’s Bear, isn’t it?”
“Looks very much like him.”
“He won’t know you. You look completely different with a beard, specially a black one.”
“Unfortunately, you haven’t grown a beard.”
“I think I can if I set my mind to it,” Chippy said. “I’ve been worried we might run into him. I hoped he’d gone on to Merhaven and taken a boat from there, but here he is coming back. I’m going behind a bush.”
Chippy actually went behind several bushes, as people who were traveling occasionally had to do, taking out the little folding shovel with some ostentation just in case someone looked back. There was no need at the moment, for the only digging Chippy/Xulai was doing was deep into him/herself. The hair follicles were there. Everyone had them. On women they usually made a soft, invisible down, but with proper concentration . . . though not too much, because the others had seen her clean shaven this morning, every morning. She considered having all the hair on her head fall out but decided against it. If it took this much effort to grow stubble, how long would it take her to grow her hair back?
When Chippy returned to his brother, Bram looked at him and nodded. “Not bad. Your hair’s a lot darker than mine. You look a villain. Like Black Mike.”
“Black Mike’s a nice man. You always said so.”
“You might lengthen the mustache just a little, especially at the corners of your mouth. You have a very . . .” He stopped, censored what he had been going to say, substituting, “distinctive mouth.” He went back to staring at the approaching rider.
Chippy concentrated on his whiskers. “Better?”
“I don’t think he’d know you. If he sees you. I’d recommend going in the tent.”
The horse approaching was within hailing distance, close enough to see that Bear was frowning and angry.
“I wonder what he’s upset about now?” murmured Bram.
“He was going to take a boat to Tingawa. My guess is he couldn’t find one.”
The self-appointed caravan leaders had ridden off onto a level bit of grassland and begun to arrange themselves and their wagons for the night. Bram and Chippy, as was their custom, took themselves and their horses off to one side, not far, unsaddled the horses, and took the packs off the mule, letting the animals roll and scratch before giving them their ration of oats. Meantime they pitched their own little tent. Fisher, who rode in Chippy’s cloak pocket during the days’ travel, went through the tent and out the other end. There were small dirt hills a bit farther into the field. That meant burrowers, which meant fresh meat, and Fisher was of a mind to find his own rations and stay out of Bear’s way.
Bear had talked with this one for a time, then that one, then made the rounds of the others in the group. Before long he came stalking over to Bram, Chippy having made himself scarce in the tent.
“Where from?”demanded Bear.
“Us? My brother’n me?” said Bram in quite a deep, unfamiliar voice.
“Yeah. Got any news from anyplace?”
“None I know of. Came from a place east of Ghastain, know where that is?”
“I do. Up on the highlands. You come past Benjobz?”
“Yeah. Din stop. Got no money to be payin’ inns.”
“Where headed?”
“Where the rest of ’em’s headed. Elsmere, then down t’Merhaven. Got a cousin there name Rabbik needs help carpenterin’. No work where we was.”
“There’s armor coming up this road.”
“From where?” Bram asked, leaving his mouth open to swallow the answer, looking purposefully half-witted.
“Abbey troops. I met dispatch riders coming ahead of the troops. They say they went almost all the way to Woldsgard, then got called home. All a mistake.”
“Well, tha’s armies,” said Bram. “My pa says left foot never knows what right foot’s doin’ in a army.”
“It’s light yet,” said Bear with annoyance. “Think I’ll make a bit more distance before I give it up tonight. Went all the way to Merhaven to get a ship. They got a ship. Will they let me take the ship? No, they will not! Ship’s reserved for a certain person. They won’t let me use it unless I’m with the certain person, so I got to go all the way back to the abbey and see if they’ve found her.”
“Was she lost?”
Bear flushed. “In a manner of speaking. She may be back by now. Maybe. Or if she’s not, her friend’ll be there. The friend would be all right. They’d let her have the ship. She’s from Tingawa. That’s who the ship is for, either of the women from Tingawa, but not me!” He belched an ugly gust of laughter. “I’m from Tingawa but oh, no, not me.”
“Good luck,” said Bram. “Hope you find ’em.”
“Oh, I’ll find ’em.”
When the retreating horseman had gone over a hill, Chippy crawled from the tent. “No need for the whiskers,” he said. “But I know how to do it now. I can do it quicker next time. Fisher’s hunting his dinner.”
The older brother was staring after the retreating horseman. “He’s looking for Precious Wind. That worries me a little.”
“I don’t
