The road became narrower, and the trees changed as I entered an older part of the forest. Here the dark evergreens still stood thick and crowded close to the road’s edge. Their trunks were immense; and beneath their spreading branches snow lay in uneven hummocks on the forest floor. There was little underbrush. Most of the year’s snowfall was still up above, resting on those thickly needled limbs. It was easy to turn Sooty aside from the trail here. We traveled under the snowladen canopy through a grayish daylight. The day seemed hushed in the dimness of the great trees.
You are seeking a specific place. You have definite information as to where the Forged ones are?
They were seen on a certain creek bank, eating from a winter-killed deer. Just yesterday. I thought we could trail them from there.
Who saw them?
I hesitated. A friend of mine. He is shy of most folk. But I have gained his confidence, and sometimes, when he sees odd things, he comes to me and tells me.
Um. I could sense Verity’s reservations as he considered my reticence. Well. I shall ask no more. Some secrets are necessary, I suppose. I remember a little half-wit girl who used to come and sit at my mother’s feet. My mother kept her clothed and fed and gave her trinkets and sweets. No one ever paid much attention to her. But once I came upon them unawares, and heard her telling my mother about a man in a tavern who had been selling pretty necklaces and armbands. Later that week the King’s guard arrested Rife the highwayman in the very same tavern. Quiet folk often know much.