Darkspell - Katharine Kerr [159]
It took Jill a moment to remember the lie that Nevyn had told Ogwern, but the dweomerman sat bolt upright in his chair and smiled.
“Oh, have you, now? Here, tell me everything.”
“After you warned us, you see, we did some hard thinking. It had to be a stranger who put that oily-fur-what’s-it in Da’s ale, because he’s as fair as fair when it comes to splitting swag, and none of the lads would want him done away with. So we figure another gang’s trying to move in on us. So we all spread out, like, marking any strangers we saw and following them. We spread a bit of coin around, too, for information. And so just before noontide I had a bit of luck when this fellow comes into town to buy at the market fair. Someone told me he was a farmhand, but he was buying a cage full of rabbits. Now, I ask you, why would a farmer spend coin on rabbits when his fields are full of free ones?”
“A better question than you can know, my friend.”
“So I got my horse and followed the man out. I was being careful as careful at first, but he never even looked back once. From the way he sat on his horse, all slumped over, it looked as if he was ill or suchlike, so I could follow pretty close. He goes to a farm, all right, and I begin to think I’ve got a false trail. But I’m there and all, so I spread a few coppers around in the village nearby, and I hear a strange tale. That farm belongs to an old widower, who’s gotten a bit strange over the years. Now, everyone thought he didn’t have a soul in the world, but all of a sudden, like, he’s got guests. One of the village lads was chasing a lost cow up that way, and he saw a fellow saddling up an expensive horse out in the farmyard. Fortunately the lad had to keep after his cow, so he didn’t go down to ask nothing.”
“Fortunate and twice fortunate,” Nevyn said softly.
“That’s what I was thinking, too,” Bocc said with a nod. “Because I’ll wager those guests belong to some other gang, and the poor old man’s gone to join his wife in the Otherlands.”
“I have the nasty feeling you’re right.” Nevyn got up and joined Bocc at his pacing. “Tell me exactly where this farm is and everything you can remember about the countryside.”
The “everything” turned out to be a great deal. Apparently Bocc could memorize a place and turn it to a clear picture in his mind, because as he talked, he stared off into space, his eyes moving as he examined an image that no one else could see. The farm was up in the hills and quite isolated; once a month or so a neighbor would go up to see if the old man was all right, but otherwise, the villagers rarely saw him.
“A perfect place for men to hide when they’ve got murder on their minds,” Nevyn said when he’d finished. “Now, listen, tell your father to leave this to me. I can’t explain why, but these lads are far more dangerous than you think.”
“I will, then. Here, good sir, Ogwern swears that you’re dweomer.”
“Does he, now? Isn’t dweomer just embroidery in a bard’s tale?”
“Oh, you see many a strange thing when you work the streets. I know lords and merchants and suchlike scoff, but they’re not out in the streets at the bottom of things.”
“So they’re not. Well, Ogwern’s a shrewd man, for all his fat, and I’m going to prove it to you. You want to get out of here without being seen, don’t you?”
Bocc groaned as he remembered where he was.
“Well and good, then,” Nevyn went on. “If you swear to me that you won’t steal anything while the spell lasts, I’ll make you nearly invisible for a few minutes.”
Although Bocc swore in perfect sincerity, Jill was shocked. She’d never seen Nevyn be so open about his powers when there was no true need. When the old man led Bocc out into the shadows of the corridor, the thief suddenly turned into an oddly blurred figure. He had scuttled off only a few paces before he seemed to disappear. Rhodry swore aloud. Grinning broadly, Nevyn shut the door.
“The hunt is up,” Nevyn announced. “The masters of the dark dweomer are known for eating raw meat but not for their skill at snaring rabbits. I’ll wager the farmhand is ensorcelled, too.”
“They