farmers would use the excrement to feed their soil; the urine would be emptied
into the mouth of the White Foal River and carried out to sea.
She also heard the rustling and squealing of rats as they searched for edible
portions and dogs growling or snarling as they chased the rats or fought each
other. And she glimpsed the swift shadows of running cats.
Like a cat, she sped down the street in a half-run, stopping at corners to look
around them before venturing farther. When she was about a half-mile from her
place, she heard the pounding of feet ahead. She froze and tried to make herself
look like part of the wall.
2
At that moment the moon broke through the clouds.
It was almost a full moon. The light revealed her to any but a blind person. She
darted across the street to the dark side and played wall again.
The slap of feet on the hard-packed dirt of the street came closer. Somewhere
above her, a baby began crying.
She pulled a long knife from a scabbard under her cloak and held the blade
behind her. Doubtless, the one running was a thief or else someone trying to
outrun a thief or mugger or muggers or perhaps a throat-slitter. If it was a
thief who was getting away from the site of the crime, she would be safe. He’d
be in no position to stop to see what he could get from her. If he was being
pursued, the pursuers might shift their attention to her.
If they saw her.
Suddenly, the pound of feet became louder. Around the corner came a tall youth
dressed in a ragged tunic and breeches and shod with buskins. He stopped and