The Name of the wina

ir smiles went sour as the roo';ll fill~ with the sweet, !cri~
Toe f UiM flowers and burmng hrur. .
srnelleo~eeper pressed the shim onto the t~ble ~th a shap
·'Thk. "'1.,ell "-he said brushing his hands agamst his apron. I
CltC · that
guess "' settles
' ' What do we do now•?"
that.

Hours later, the innkeeper stood in the doorway of th~ Way-

stone and let his eyes relax to the darkness. F<;>otpnnts of
lam.plight from the inn's windows fell across the dtrt road and
the doors of the smithy across the way. It was not a large road,
nor well traveled. It didn't seem to lead anywhere, as so~e
roads do. The innkeeper drew....a deep breath of aut~ arr
arid looked around restlessly, as if waiting for somethmg to
\

happen. _
He called himseH Kote. He had chosen the name carefully
wh&Jl' he came to this place. He had taken a new name for
most of the usual reasons, and for a few unusual ones as well,
not the least of which was the fa_ct that names were important
to.him-.
-_ .L00king up, he saw a thousand stars,&ti~!¥~$.in the deep
velvet of a night with no moon. He knew ·them all, their sto-
rieSJ:oo.d their names. He knew them in a familiaF way, the way
he knew his own hands. ·
..loooking down, Kote sighed without knowing it and went
back inside. He locked the door and. shuttered the wide win-;
dQws of the inn, as if to distance himself from the stars and all
th6ir varied names. · · -·
:He .§lYep1,..-the floor methodically, catching all the corners.
~e washed the tables and the bar, moving with a patient effi-
ciency: At the end of an hour1s work, the water in his bucket
was _still clean enougJi for a lady to wash her hands in.
. Fmally,·he pulled a stool behind the bar and began to pol--
ish the vast array of bottles nestled between the two huge bar-
~els. He wasJ11't nearly as crisp and efficient about this chore as

al~,
e -~a~ been with the others, and it soon became obvious the
&~~:ng wll:8 only an excuse t? touch an_d h~ld. He even
have .ed a Ii~, h he did not realize 1t, and would
. s10PPed himseff if he . ad known.
mili~1:.!i::ned the bottles his ~ong, graceful hands the fa-
him seem 0: eased a fe'Y tired lines fr~m his face, making
_ Y unger, certainly not yet thirty. Not even near
 Patrick Rothfuss
12 V. for
.. , . , ,for aD ilfflt~pef. I 0ung . . 8. mm1. wua
' 6""ft
SQ ffl.30 \'
t1Jb1Y. YouD8 . . . . ms face- •
tired fines remainmg OJ.,
.ft
. .,

Kote came to the top of the -~ i~ and ·~pened the His

room was austere, alm~t .monkish. ~re was_a blacl stoat
fireplace is tne center of ~e f00111, a pair of ch~~ a sai,ali
~ -The only other furniture was a narrow bed with a~-
dart dlest at its foot Nothing decorated tbe walls or co~
die wooden Door.
There were footste~ 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 quitt
smile and cunning eyes. "You haven't been this late in a span
of days," he said as he banded over the bowl.. '"There rnust
have been good stories tonight, Reshi,~
Resbi was another of the innkeeper's a nicbame
almost.. The sound of it tugged one comer of his mouth into a
wry smile as be sank into the deep chair in front ,of the fire
"So, what did you le.am today, Bast?~
.,,Today, master, I learned why great lovers have better eye-
sight than great scholars."
"And why is that, Bast?'' Kote asked, amusement touching
the eel~ of his voice.
Bast the door and returned to sit in the second chair,
turning it to face his teacher and the fire. He moved "1ith a
strange delicacy and grace, as if he were close to dancing,
"Well Reshi, all the rich books are found inside wbe.re 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
take a book outside, thus bettering himself without fear
lessening his much-loved faculty of sight.'' . . ..
u1 thought the same thing, Reshi. Being, of course, an ex
ceptionally clever student."
"Of course."
"B~t wh~n I found a place in the sun where. I could;::~~
beautiful gul came along and kept me from doing anyt
the sort," Bast finished with a flourish. .
01
anage
Kote sighed. ·~Am I correct in assuming you d1dn t ·
to read any of Celum Tinture today?"
 TheNameofthe l.Jlnd
ia:··e0 tolook somewhat ·ash.amed.
B~~n,~o the fire, Kote tried to assume a ste~ fac_e and
-~....J Bast, I h<)pe she wa~ lovely ,as a warm ~d m the
fail~ rm a bad teacher w say rt,but Im glad I don t feel up
•
f
:~aa ~ng bo1lt of lessons Fight now." Th~re was. a ~ment of
"Carter was attacked by a scraeling tomght. . . .
silence.
Bast's easy-smile. fell.away like
· · ·.a .crack..ed. mask , leavtng
· : h ~s
face stricken and pale. "The scrael?" He came halfway to his
feet as if he would bolt from:the room, then g~ve an. emb~r-
rassed frown and forced himself ~ack down mto his chair.
"How do you know? Who found his ~ody?" · ·
"He's .still alive; .Bast. He brought it back. There was only
e" . . . .
on"There's no such thing. as one scraeling," Bast said flatly.
"You know·that" · .. ·. . ·. · ·
"I know,".·K0te said. "Th.e ,fact remains there was only one."
"And he killed it?" -Bast said. ''It couldn't have been a
,.:... . M
scraeUHg ... aybe---" · : ·· , .. · .
"Bast,'itwas on.e·of tlte:scrael. I saw it." Kote gave hitn a ·se-
rious look. "He was lucky; -that's all. Even so be was badly
hurt. Fortyleigm.t ,stitches. I ·used up neady all .my gut.'-' Kote
picked u;p his bowl of stew. "If anyone asks; tell them. my ·
grandfather·was a .earavan,,cguard who taug~t me how to clean
and stitch a -wound. They ·were too sbocked to ask about it
tonight, but tomorrow some of then;i migbt get curious. I don't
want that." He.blew into ms·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 ~nkeeper~ ~s sort of thing i~ quj.te beyond me."
"Resh1, 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 Kate continued before he
could say anything. "Yes, I made, sure the pit was deep
enough. Yes, I made sure there was ro:wan .wood in the fire.
Yes, I made sure itbumed long and hot before tkey buried it.
An~ ~;s,
l made·sure _that no one kept a piece of .it as a sou-
ve~: He scowled, his eyebrows drawing together. "I'm not
an 1d1ot, you know." .· .
Bast visibly relaxed, settling back into his chair. "I know
 14 Patrick Rothfuss
you're not, R eshi. But I wouldn 't trust half these ,.
piss leeward without help." He looked thoughtful feopie to
ment. "I can't imagine why there was only one." or a mo.
"Maybe they died coming over the mountains," Kot _
gested. "All but this ~ne." e sug.
"It's possible," Bast admitted reluctantly.
"Maybe it was that storm trom a couple days back," Kot
pointed out. "A real 'Yagon-tipp~r, a~ we used to say back
the troupe. All the wind and rain might have scattered one
i:
loose from the pack." -
"I like your first idea better, Reshi," Bast said uncomfort-
ably. "Three or four scrael would go through this town like ...
lik e ..."
"Like a hot knife through butter?"
"More like several hot knives through several dozen farm-
ers," 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 mo-
ment Bast began to fidget. ''Any news?" · .
Kote shook his head. "They didn't get to the news ton1~ht.
Carter disrupted things while they were still telling stones.
That'~ something, I suppose. They'll be hack tomorrow night.
It'll give me something to do." - · .
Kote poked .p.is spoon idly into the stew. "I should have
bought the scraeling from Carter," he mused. "He could've used
the money ~or a new horse. People would have come from a!!
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' · ki 0 · ·t
would.h mb1o &, Bast." He gave a weak smile. "Still, 1
" ave een nice." ·-
No Reshi 1·1 . · ''
Bast sa1·d ' 1!1°st certamly would not have been nice,
over to se!11:f~tically." 'People would have come from all
"Tue bus· ' e repeated derisively. "Indeed."
~ess w~uld :~i~~~ld h.ave bee~ nice," Kote clarified. "Bu~y-
Anyth1ng would b ~e J~,bbed his spoon into the stew agatll·
lbey sat fo e nice.
bow1 O f st .r a 1ong m . h
or y ew 1n his ha d oment, Kote scowling down into t e
or dou here, Bast ,, hn s, .his eyes far away "It must be awful
' e said
e om''
· at last. "You must
·
be numb Wl'th·
 15
The Name ofthe Wind
- ~a~d ''There are a few young wives in town. A
Bast sbruoo,-, · · d like a child
ttering ·of <laughters." He gnnne - . "I ten d to
sca ,I?,,, ,,
make my own run. -- . - . k
"That's .good, Bast." There was ano~~er silence. KoJe _too
another spoonful, chewed, swallowed. They thought 1t was a
,,
demon, you now.k . . , _ _
Bast shrugged. "ltnnght as well be~ Resht. It s probably the
best thing for them to think · ·." ·
"I know. I encouraged them, in fact. But y~u ~ow. what
that means." He met Bast's eyes. "The blacksnnth 1s 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. Be;hind 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 m.e eat." - · ·
"Actually ..."
"Begone. demon!:" Kote said, switching to a thickly ac-
cented·Tenuo through half a mouthful of stew. "Tehus antausa
eha!"
Bast burst into startled laughter and made an obscene ges-
ture with 0ne hand.
Kote swallowed and changed languages. '~roi te denna-
leyan-J" ·
" '':Q ~ ?om~ no":," Bast reproached, his smile ·falling away.
·. Thats Just 1nsultmg."
. "By earth and ~to~e,-1 abju~e you!" Kote dipped his fingers
n~to t~~-c~p by hIS side and !licked droplets casually in Bast's
direction. Glamour be banished!"
"With -~dt:r?" Bast managed to look amused and annoyed
at t~e sam't~ tmi;e ·as he daubed a.bead of liquid from the front
of .his
- shirt •"Th. · not-stain."
· _·. , is better ·
- ua!~te took another bite of ·his dinner. "Go soak it. If the sit-
n becomes desperate, I recommend you avail yourself of
 16 Patrick Rothfuss

th e numerous solvent formulae extant in Celum Tintu

1· ,, re.
Chapter thirteen, I be 1eve.
· "Fine." Bast stood and ~alke~ to the door, step~ing With
his strange, •c asual _grac~. Call 1f . you ne~d anything.'' Be
closed the door behind himself.
Kote ate slowly, mopping up the. last of the stew With a
piece nf bread. He looked ~ut the ,w1ndo~ as ~e ate, ?r tried
to, as the lamplight turned its surface nnrrorlike against the
dark behind it. , , . · . . ·
His eyes wande~ed the room restlessly. The f1~eplace was
made of the .same black rock as the one do~nst~rrs. It stood
in the·center of the room, a minor-feat ofeng1neenng of which
Kote was rather ·proud~ ·T he ~ed was small_, little more than a
cot, and if you were to·tou,ch it you would fmd the mattress al-
most nonexistent. 1 , .. · -

-.A skilled observer ni{ght. notice there was something his

gaze avoided The s~°:1~.<~vaf _.you ,avoid meeting the eye ?f. an
old lover at :a fonnal ;diriner;·.-.or- that of an old enemy sitting
across the .r oom:in•::a ,ctowded aleltouse .late at night.
- · Kote tried to relax,,f~ijed;. fidge~ed, ·sighed, shifted in his
seat, and without.willingdfhis ·e yes fell on the chest at the foot
ofthebed. -•. ,
-• -It was·,niade _o f r~.ah} a rare,'-h'eavy ·w ood, dark as coal and
s_m ooth as polished glass..p·r ized by p~tjumers and alchemists,
a pi~ce the size of your thumb was e-asily worth gold. To have
a chest made of it w.e nt.far beyond extravagance.
. '.The ·,chest was sealed .three times. It had a lock of iron, a
lock of_,copp~r, and_. a lock that could not be seen. Tonight the
":ood filled the ro~m ~th_tbe.:alm0st -imperceptible aroma of
_citrus and quenching.iron. .
· When Kot~'s ey.~sf~~,on the chest they did not dart quickly
away: .They did not slide slyly to the side as if he would pre-
tend_ it wasn't ther~ at.ctn. Bntin a ~oment of looking, his face
regamed all the lines _the· simple pleasures of the day had
slowly smoothed.away. The ·comfort of his· bottles and books
was ~ased in a sec-0nd, leaving nothing behind his eyes bu!
emptin_ess and ~che. For a m'.o ment fierce -longing and regre
warred across his face. . · -
. Then they were: gone, replaced by the ~eary face of ~n
m_nkeeper, a ~an_ who called himself Kote. He sighed again
without knowing 1t and pushed himself to bis feet.
 The_Name·ofthe m·nd 17

It was a long-time before he walked past the chest to bed. ·

once in bed,·it was a long time before he slept.

As Kote had gues~ed, they came· back to the Waystone the

next night for dinner . and drinks.. .There were a few half-
hearted attempts at stories, but they died out -quickly. No one
was really 'in the ·mood. · · · J. . .· -

So it was · still early in· t~e evening when the discussion

turned to matters of gr~ater import. They chewed over the ru-
1116rs,:that had ·come into town, most of them troublirig. The
Penitent.~ng was .having a difficu~t .tin:ie with the rebels in
Resavek;This':causetl some concern; but only in a general way.
Resavek \vas·-a long way off, and even Cob, the most worldly
ofthem, would be·hard pressed to find it on ·a map.
Th~y discussed' the war in their own·terms. Cob predicted a
third levy tax after·the harvests were i~. No ·one argued,
though there· -hadrt-'t been a three-bleeder year iri living
memory. · ·. · , .
· Jake.- guessed the harvest· would. be good enough so the
third.levy wouldn't break:.most families. Except the_Bentleys,
who were on hard times anyway. And the Orrisons, whose
sheep kept ._disappearing:~And Crazy Martin, who had _planted
all bap.~yth~s year. Every-farmer with ·half a bra4i had planted
beans. 'Ilrat was one . good ·thing _·.-about all ·the fighting---
soldiers ate:beans,.and prices would be ·high. ·
. After i:i few':,m.ore-drjnks, d~eper -concerns were voiced. De-
serter soldiers and other=opportunists were thick on the roads;·
making·.even .s'.hort _ trips ·risky~ The·roads w:ere always bad, of
cours·e, in-the same way that winter was always cold. You com-
. plained; took sensible precautions, and got .on with the busi-
ness·df. living your life~ ·· . , · · •- · . . · · .
· But this ·was ·different. Over the last -two months·the roads
had ·become so bad that p~ople had stopped complaining. The
last caravan had two wagons ~rid four guards. The mer~hant
had been asking ten pennies for half a pound of sa!t, fifteen
for a loaf of sugar. He didn't have any pepper, or clll1lamon~
or chocolate. He did have one small sack of coffee, bu~:d
Wanted two silver talents for that. At first people had laug d
at his prices. Then, when he held firm, folk · had spat an
cursed at him.
 18 Patrick Rothfuss
That hacl -beeri tw~ span ·ago:· t'Yenty-two days. There had
not bee.n anot~er ser1ou~ trad~r ~1nce, even thou~h this was
the season for_ 1t. So despite the thrrd l~vy ~ax lo.<?m1ng large in
e~errone's nnnds, peopl~ were loo~1ng _in ·t~e1r purses and
wishjng they'd bought ,~r ltttle something, Just 1n case the snow
came early. _ . · . . ·. · .· ·. -·
. No one ._ ~po~<?.of the .pr~rious .·•night, of _the thing they had
burned .a nd buried. ·O ther· folk were talking, of course. The
town was alive witb. gQs§ip_.·ca·q ~r's wounds ensured that the
stories w~e taken balf s~riou~ly, but.not -m uch more than half.
The .word_'-'demon.'.' ·was .:bt;,iil.g··spoken~ but it was with smiles
Iialf-h1dden'behind-.rais.e d· han:ds•.,'' ·
.Only the shr· frien~~----·-had _seen
tl.ie thing befo~e it was
burned.
.
. . . One.
. . -of .them:had
' .
,... ' -. . been. ·wounde.d and
. ' . . the others had
'

- ·b een ·drinicipg~.~e. ptiest.had·seen-it ·too., but it was his job to

see -demons. -Dem()nS-were gQ0d fQr _.his business. ·
..The·.innkeeper 4:~d ·seenoit-too, apparently. But he wasn't
from ~arou1:n;I ·_h erer·H e\cou1dn't kn9wlhe truth that was soap-
parent to everyone··.bom -a nd-raised in.this little town: stories
were _told,:·lt~r~, but-th½y ·happened -somewhere else. This was
not aplace;for ,-demons. ·-.· . . ·
· B·esid~s,_. tpings \:V:ere:, had-: enough ~thout borrowing trou-
ble.·C.o~·• a~d·t-he rest lfue·w· :~heie wa~ no sense talking about
it. Trying to convmci ,f.olk-'. woul<;l.p_ nly make-them a laughi~g-
stock, ljk.~ C,;azy M~rtin,-wh-0 .-h~d be~n ·~rying to dig a well in-
side his own house. for-· ye<\r~ i9-PW:. . . - .
Still, ea.ch .-.pf _therp.···bought a _. :i;liec.~ of. cold-wrought iron
fr?m the ·smith, heavy a~ t~·e y coWd swing, and non~ of the~
said what they were thmki!1gf Ip.stead they complained th~_
the ~oads wer~ bad and gett1n~ woi;se, They talked about me st
chants: and deserters, l~VIeS, and not enough salt to 1~e
the wmter. They rellllrusced that three years ago ~o 0 et
would have even thought o( lo~king· their doors at night, 1_
alone .barring tht:m· · · · and
. The c9nversat_ 1on took a · downward turn from _th~re, the
even thoqgh none of them said what they were_ thinkingdays,
evening -e nded on a grim note. Most evenings did these
times being what they were.
 CHA.P-T ER TWO

A Beautiful Day

autum·n, days· so ·common in

I~d dry,
TWAS01'ffi-OF _those :perfect
stories and so rare in tlie real world. The weather ·was warin
ide<V for npening a field -of wheat or c~m. On both
sides- of the ro<:1d the trees were changing color. Tall poplars
had gone a buttery yellow while·the shrupby sumac encroach- ·
ing on the road was tinged ·a \iolent ted. ·Only· the old oaks
seemed -r eluetant to give up·the summer, a11d their leaves te-
·m aiiled an even mingling of gold ~nd green. · · -: ·
· Everything said, you couldtft hope for a nicer -day to have
a .h ~ ·dozen ex:..soldiers with hunting bows :relieve you ·of
everything you owned. .
"She's.·not- niuch of a -horse,· sir," -Chronicler said. ~'One
sm~. step a\)ove a dray, ·and when -it rains she~" - · ·
. The man _cut him off with a sharp gesture: "Listen, friend,
t4e king's army,is paying good ~oney for anything·wi~h _four
l~gs and at least one ey.e. If you were.st~rk ~ad ~d; nding a
hobbyhorse dQwn the road, I'd still take it off ~ou." _ · .
Their leader had an air of command -a bout him~ Chromcler
guessed he had been a low ranking officer n?t long.ag?. "Just
hop down,_,,.-he · said seriously. "We'll get this done· WIth and
you can ~e on Y?UT way/' · _ . · . -been
Chromcler climbed down from his horse: He had . d .
robbed before and knew when there was nothing to be.gaine
- · th · b · ss. No energy
by discussion. These fellow~ knew err _ µsm~ them .looked
was wasted on bravado or idle threats. One -0 1\v0 'oth-
over the horse, checking hooves, teeth, and harness.
 20 Patrick Rothfuss
ers went through bis saddlebags with a military efficiency 1
ing all his worldly possessions out on the ground. Two bi ay.
k:ets, a hooded cloak:, the flat leather satchel, and his hea::
well-stocked travelsack. ,
"That's all of it Commander," one of the men said. "Exce
for about twenty 'pounds o f oats." Pt
The commander knelt down and opened the flat leather
satchel, peering inside. _. .
"There's nothing but paper and pens 1n there," Chronicler
said.
Toe commander turned to look backward over his shoul-
der. ''You a scribe then?"
Chronicler nodded. "It's my livelihood, sir. Aod no real use
to you."
The man looked through the satchel, found it to be true,
and set it aside. Then he upended the travelsack onto Chron-
icler's spread cloak and poked idly through the contents.
He took most of Chronicler's salt and a pair of bootlaces.
Then, much t~ the scribe's dismay, be picked up the shirt Chron-
icler had bought back in Linwood. It was fine linen dyed a
deep, royal blue, too nice for traveling. Chronicler hadn't even
had the-chance to wear it yet He sighed.
The commander left everything else lying on the cloak and
got to his feet. The others took turns going through Chroni-
cler's things.
J?1e commander spoke up, "You only have one blanke~,
don t you, Janns?" One of the men nodded. ~'Take one of his
th:,n, you'll a second before winter~s through."
His cloak ts m better shape than mine, sir."
"Take i!, but leav~ yours. The same for you, Witkins. Leave
your old tinderbox if you're taking his."
"I lost mine, sir,'' Witkins said. "Else I would."
The wh~le process was surprisingly civilized. Chronicle~
lost all o~ his needles but one, both extra pairs of socks, a bun
dle of dri_ed ~it, a s~ loaf of sugar, half a bottle ~f alcohol,
a~d a _pair of ivory.dice. They left him the rest of his c1° th e~
his dried_ meat, and a half-eaten loaf of incredibly stale ry
bread .. His flat leather satchel remained untouched. oder
While the men repacked his travelsack, the comrna
turned~ Chronicler. ''Let's have the purse then."
Chrorucler handed it ov,er.
"And the ring."
 The Name ofthe ·~ nd 21

"There's hardly any silver in it," Chronicler mumbled as he

unscrewed it from his finger.
·"What's that ~around your ,neck?" . .
Chronicle_r unbuttoned his shirt, revealing a dull ring of
metathanging from . aJeather cord. "Just iron, sir."
The~commander came.close and rubbed it between his·.fin-
-gers b~f.o r~ letting:. it-fall _.bac~ against · Chronicle~'s c~est.
"Ke·e p.1t.then.l~JI1 notone >to -c ome betwe~n:. a n1an and-. h1s re-
.ligionthe·:satdj:then empti¢d the purs¢ into one hand, making
. a ·pleasantly surpris~.d ·noise as he prqdded through the-coins
with:his finger.:"Scribing·.pays better.than.I thought," he said
as _be.-b egan:to-count-out shares ,t o.his.men.. :_ ·.· ,. ..
"I--d0h;t suppose.yo~· co~ld_spare me a .penny or t,wo.out of
tb~t?" Chro~icler ask¢<l "Just ·enough for a . couple: ·h ot ·of
me.al's . ·.?"'. .' ,..' .
! . ' • ," . ; ' - '
.
. :_ ' '' • ,• . . .

-The s~ men turned to look at Chronicler, as if t])ey couldn't

qui(y;·Q.eli~_y e :what .th~y-had -heard. .. _ .
-~ x .c<>Irimand~'.r -l~ughed. "·God's body,-·y ou certainly have
·a heavy pair, don't you-?" There ·was. a grudging respect in·his
voic¢.- ..
"Y9u ·s eem -a reasonable fellow," Chronicler . said wi.th ·a
i • :·. ' : ' , •• ' • • • ' • ' • ' ' • • •

shrug•~:'¼nd-(a: :t n~n's got~,to -~at" : . _ ·

-_'T heir.--leader smiled for the first 'time. "A sentiment I can.
agree wi(Ji/~ °Ji¢.took ou:t·:two ,p.etitlies and brandished them
before putting-them back -into Chr.onitj.er~s - purse~ "Here's a
p_ait.for your pair~·then." ·H e tossed _Chroi;li~ler-tbe purse and
~tuff~d the be3:utiful r;oyal-blµe s~irt into ~s saddlebag.
-'·'Tuati:k you,s~,'-''Chroll)cler.said. '~-Y ounugbtwantto know
that that bottle one of:.-y our men:took.is wood alcohol I use for
cleaning my pens. lfllgo badly if he drinks.it~'~- . . .
· The··commander,siniled.an:d nodded. "You·see·what comes
of treating people well?"·. he said to his men as he pulled .him-
self up onto bis horse. ''It's been a pleasurt?, sir scribe. If you get
on your way now, you can·still make Abbot's Ford by dark."
When Chronicler could no longer hear their hoofbeats in
the distance, he repacked his_tra.velsack, making sur~ every-
thing was well stowed. Then he ·tugged off one of _h is boots,
stripped out the lining, and removed a tightly wrapped bundle
of coins stuffed deep into the toe.- He moved some of these
into his pµrse, then unfastene<;l his pants, produced another
bundle of coins from underneath several layers of clothes, and
moved some of that money into his purse as well.
.