The fold of flesh that was Ehomba’s mouth smiled. “Did I not ask you to trust me?”
“Hoy, so you did, but to what end? Do you expect us to cross the remaining unknown country that lies between here and Ehl-Larimar with you in this condition? And what if we were to do so, and succeed? How will you fight this Hymneth the Possessed? Am I supposed to stand behind you and work your legs and sword arm like some kind of mad puppeteer? I’ll have none of it, I tell you! I consider myself a brave man, but not a fool.” His tone turned bitter. “If there is good magic in this, I don’t see it.”
“You will, my good friend. Lay me down easy. Take up the tiller and lines and sail us out of here.”
“Hunkapa!” Simna exclaimed. “Give me a hand and let’s right this wagon.” As soon as their transport was once again resting upright on all four wheels, the swordsman proceeded to check the axles and undercarriage. Despite the jolt it had received during the hard landing, everything appeared intact. “Here, hold him up so he can see. I have to steer.”
“Steer where?” Gently, the shaggy hulk took the limp body of the herdsman in his massive arms, cradling the empty but animate human envelope as easily as he would a child.
“West. Where else?” Settling himself in position, the swordsman tore into ropes and lines, adjusting the sail to catch the wind that, fortuitously, continued to blow from the east. Almost immediately, the wagon began to move. It creaked and groaned in places that previously had been silent, but nothing fell off. Very soon, they were scooting along the increasingly bumpy track at a respectable rate of speed.