I do not know what put my uncle in such a bad mood, for I had done the work I was hired for, in dealing for the cargo. Yet I still had to help load. It was a weary, weary day, with cuffs and blows and kicks to speed me at tasks. I did my best, but sometimes it seemed they left the most unwieldy lots for me, heavy beyond my strength; and then they laughed as I strained and heaved with little avail. I paid dearly that day for those hours with Lord Artos.
I would have paid twice the price, had it been asked.
I WAS SO EXHAUSTED by nightfall that I could not summon the energy to eat. Instead I crept into a space between deck and cargo where few could find me. In the dark, I transferred the coins and the gold ring Tegi-dus had given me into my worn empty pouch and tucked all safely back under my belt. As soon as I laid my head down, I was asleep.
The cold roused me, even buffered as I was between bundles and deck. The clammy sort of cold that suggests a dense fog. Groaning, I realized that my uncle’s humor- for he had planned to sail with the morning tide- would scarcely improve. I could not stay hidden all day, however preferable that would be. When I heard the others stirring and grumbling at the weather, I crept out, shivering. Hunger drove me to the galley, and though I did manage to snatch a heel of bread, the cook put me to work immediately. I was struggling with a sack of the beans he intended to soak for the evening meal when the little pouch fell from my belt.
The first mate saw it and snatched it up. “Ah, what have we here? Light-fingered is he, too, this bastard scum of a Cornovian?”
I do not know what prompted me, save that I had had enough of him and of my miserable existence on the Core/to, with only the prospect of more of the same until my spirit was completely broken.
Because he held the pouch aloft, dangling from the drawstrings, I saw my chance. I leapt, catching the pouch; and in another leap, dove over the side of the ship, swimming through the still water and losing myself in the mist. Even the shouts and curses from shipboard were quickly muffled in that thick fog.
When my first frantic strokes exhausted me, I tread the water, terrified that perhaps I had swum in the wrong direction. Some early-morning garbage bobbed about me, and listening avidly, I heard the unmistakable lap of water against a shore. I struck out toward the sound.
At last I hauled myself out, gasping for breath and shivering in the raw air, but filled with a sort of triumph. I had escaped! I would join Lord Artos. Had he not said that I was useful to him with my gift of tongues? He would need someone to interpret Tegidus on the long road they would travel together. He would surely need my skills at Septimania.
I opened the purse to count my worldly wealth and found it far more than I had expected. Several small coins of the sort we use in Britain, and two, not one, gold rings of the sort that traders carry, current in any port. I could scarcely believe such good fortune and generosity. This should prove enough-for I knew how to haggle- to buy a warm cloak and leggings, as well as a pony from the farmer. I knew the one I wanted, too small for most men to ride but the right size for me.
None of the traders in the marketplace-all glad of any dealings on such a foggy morning-questioned my wealth or my reasons. I managed to buy some travel bread and grain.
BY THE TIME i REACHED the farm, the fog still held the coastline in its white roll. But the little bay pony I had noted grazed in the meadow. The farmer was in an expansive mood, having sold his best at a good profit to Tegidus and Lord Artos with no recourse to a villain like Baldus. He was quite willing to sell me the pony, for-as