The blacksmith paused in his work. “You really mean to do this, don’t you?”
Simna made a perfunctory gesture in the herdsman’s direction. “My friend has a fetish for the west. So that’s the way we go. Would it be safer to head north or south and then turn inland toward our destination?”
The blacksmith considered. “I’m no voyager like you.” He indicated the sturdy house and shop set just back off the road. “Family man. But settled here, at the foot of the Hexens, I meet many travelers. Go north and you’re liable to run into bad weather. But south—head south and then turn west, and you’ll skirt the base of the mountains.” He turned back to his work. “Of course, there are other dangers to be encountered when traveling in the south.”
“How long must we move south before we could turn west again and miss these mountains?” Ehomba was willing to consider reasonable alternatives.
“A month, maybe two, depending on the condition of the roads and the weather. This time of year, traveling weather’s best between Oos and Nine Harbors. That’s where you are right now, more or less.”
The herdsman nodded tersely. “Then we go west from here.”
“Why am I not surprised?” Simna’s sigh was muted. He knew his tall friend well enough by now to have put money on his response. “You were going to tell us about the dangers we might run into in these Hexens.”
“It’s not a certain thing,” the pensive blacksmith replied. “Many people make the crossing and return safely to the coast. For traders who do so, the rewards are considerable.”