out. But having seen him move, she nodded. The same horse as he would look on good oats and exercise shone out at her, but she could not convince Harris.
And so the hours passed. It took all day to find six horses they both agreed on, and by the end of it Bean dragged his feet and Pell felt weary to the bone. Harris made fewer and fewer objections, but stood back and let her have what she liked, paying up each time while she silently kept track of the money and her cut of it. Occasionally he’d mark out a horse he thought looked good, and she’d point out a stiff hock or a bad way of moving, and sometimes she wouldn’t bother but just shook her head and went on, and by the end of the day he’d learned a thing or two about choosing horses and she’d learned a thing or two about driving a bargain.
He tied all six horses in a string behind his own, and told her he’d deliver her cut of the money in an hour, after he’d finished with another piece of business at the inn. At first she objected, not trusting him to return, but he threw down his bag and said, “That’s everything I own but what I’m wearing.” And she didn’t have much choice but to accept.
When an hour passed, and then two, and then more, the anxiety began to rise up in her. And it grew, and grew, until, not knowing what else to do, she left Jack with Bean and ran through the town toward the inn to seek Harris. It took only ten minutes, but when she arrived the innkeeper informed her that he’d paid up and gone.
It was with a sense of confusion that she ran back to the place where only moments ago she’d left a horse and a child, to find nothing but an empty square of trampled earth. On which, two frantic hours later, filthy, exhausted from searching, and near crazed with a sense of futility and the world’s injustice, she collapsed.
Fourteen
B ean had long practice in watchfulness. He knew how to recognize danger by the expression on an unwary face and to judge how a situation might turn. So when Harris began to thread his way back through the crowd with his horses, Bean watched carefully, to see what might happen next.
He watched the man dismount hurriedly, watched him cast about, bemused.
At last Harris approached him, reluctant to engage with the half-wit but anxious to conclude his business and get on.
“Where’s the girl gone?”
Bean pointed across the crowd, and Harris followed the direction of his finger. Seeing nothing there of interest, he scanned the vicinity and exchanged a few words with a man nearby who only shrugged. After another minute, Bean saw the wheels in Harris’s head begin to turn, saw a decision form in his brain.
The man turned to Bean, speaking in an exaggerated manner. “ Tell her. I waited. As long as. I could .” And he laughed at the thought of the half-wit telling anyone anything, reclaimed his bag, mounted his own horse, tightened the tie of the lead rope, and rode away.
What was Bean to do then? If he didn’t act, all would be lost; the retreating crowds could be counted upon to hide any number of dishonest men leading strings of ill-gotten beasts. His brain spun wildly as he searched the crowd for Pell. She must be almost here, she must be . But she wasn’t. So he scrambled up on Jack and followed the man who would take his sister’s horses without paying for them.
Harris eschewed the obvious routes out of Salisbury, opting for a little-used cattle path that skirted the cathedral, and disappeared almost at once into a wood. The path’s obscurity made Bean’s job difficult, but he kept well back, relying on the noise and trampled ground left by his quarry to mark the path.
His anxiety increased as they moved farther and farther from the center of Salisbury. After one hour, then two, then three, he gave up hope of Pell catching them, and the decision he’d made in a moment of desperation suddenly filled him with doubts. Lost and frightened and hungry, it occurred to him that it might be
And so the hours passed. It took all day to find six horses they both agreed on, and by the end of it Bean dragged his feet and Pell felt weary to the bone. Harris made fewer and fewer objections, but stood back and let her have what she liked, paying up each time while she silently kept track of the money and her cut of it. Occasionally he’d mark out a horse he thought looked good, and she’d point out a stiff hock or a bad way of moving, and sometimes she wouldn’t bother but just shook her head and went on, and by the end of the day he’d learned a thing or two about choosing horses and she’d learned a thing or two about driving a bargain.
He tied all six horses in a string behind his own, and told her he’d deliver her cut of the money in an hour, after he’d finished with another piece of business at the inn. At first she objected, not trusting him to return, but he threw down his bag and said, “That’s everything I own but what I’m wearing.” And she didn’t have much choice but to accept.
When an hour passed, and then two, and then more, the anxiety began to rise up in her. And it grew, and grew, until, not knowing what else to do, she left Jack with Bean and ran through the town toward the inn to seek Harris. It took only ten minutes, but when she arrived the innkeeper informed her that he’d paid up and gone.
It was with a sense of confusion that she ran back to the place where only moments ago she’d left a horse and a child, to find nothing but an empty square of trampled earth. On which, two frantic hours later, filthy, exhausted from searching, and near crazed with a sense of futility and the world’s injustice, she collapsed.
Fourteen
B ean had long practice in watchfulness. He knew how to recognize danger by the expression on an unwary face and to judge how a situation might turn. So when Harris began to thread his way back through the crowd with his horses, Bean watched carefully, to see what might happen next.
He watched the man dismount hurriedly, watched him cast about, bemused.
At last Harris approached him, reluctant to engage with the half-wit but anxious to conclude his business and get on.
“Where’s the girl gone?”
Bean pointed across the crowd, and Harris followed the direction of his finger. Seeing nothing there of interest, he scanned the vicinity and exchanged a few words with a man nearby who only shrugged. After another minute, Bean saw the wheels in Harris’s head begin to turn, saw a decision form in his brain.
The man turned to Bean, speaking in an exaggerated manner. “ Tell her. I waited. As long as. I could .” And he laughed at the thought of the half-wit telling anyone anything, reclaimed his bag, mounted his own horse, tightened the tie of the lead rope, and rode away.
What was Bean to do then? If he didn’t act, all would be lost; the retreating crowds could be counted upon to hide any number of dishonest men leading strings of ill-gotten beasts. His brain spun wildly as he searched the crowd for Pell. She must be almost here, she must be . But she wasn’t. So he scrambled up on Jack and followed the man who would take his sister’s horses without paying for them.
Harris eschewed the obvious routes out of Salisbury, opting for a little-used cattle path that skirted the cathedral, and disappeared almost at once into a wood. The path’s obscurity made Bean’s job difficult, but he kept well back, relying on the noise and trampled ground left by his quarry to mark the path.
His anxiety increased as they moved farther and farther from the center of Salisbury. After one hour, then two, then three, he gave up hope of Pell catching them, and the decision he’d made in a moment of desperation suddenly filled him with doubts. Lost and frightened and hungry, it occurred to him that it might be
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