Exile's Return by Raymond E. Feist Read Free Book Online Page B

among those who lived in the region, enforced at times by the nomads to the north, the Jeshandi, that no one troubled travelers or those who cared for them. The origin of this covenant was lost to history, but like so many other things even that had vanished like smoke in a wind when the Emerald Queen’s army had ravaged this land.
    Kaspar deduced that this farm’s relative wealth, in cattle as well as crops, was the result of Bandamin’s father being one of the few able-bodied men who had evaded being enlisted into the Emerald Queen’s army at sword-point. Kaspar felt frustrated by the gaps in his knowledge, but he pieced together a picture of what had probably happened from things Jojanna had said.
    Her father-in-law had managed to hide while many others were pressed into service for a battle on the other side of the mountains to the southwest—the Sumanu, she called them. He had benefited by finding strays from abandoned farms, as well as seed grain and vegetables. He had found a wagon and horses, and over a few months had come to this little dell and established his farm, which Bandamin had inherited.
    Kaspar put the wood in the wood box behind the hut and started back across the meadow to fetch more. Looking at the tired boy, he said, “Why don’t you see if your mother needs your help?”
    Jorgen nodded and ran off.
    Kaspar stopped for a moment and watched the child vanish around the corner of the hut. He realized that he had given no thought to being a father. He had assumed the day would come when he would have to wed and breed an heir, but had never considered what actually being a father would mean. Until this moment. The boy missed his father terribly; Kaspar could see that. He wondered if Bandamin’s disappearance would ever be explained.
    He set off to fetch more wood, admitting to himself that farm life was a great deal more arduous than he had ever imagined. Still, that was where the gods had placed them on the Wheel of Life, he considered; and even if he was back on the throne of Olasko, he couldn’t very well beggar the treasury buying horses and wagons for every farmer, could he? He chuckled at the absurdity of it all, and flexed his aching shoulders.
     
    Kaspar looked up from his meal. “I must leave,” he said.
    Jojanna nodded. “I expected that would happen soon.”
    He was silent for a long moment, while Jorgen’s eyes went back and forth between them. Kaspar had been a fixture in their house for more than three months, and while at times the boy mocked him for his ignorance over the basics of farming, Kaspar had come to fill the void left by his father.
    But Kaspar had more concerns than one boy from a distant land, despite having grown used to his company. He had learned all he could from them. He spoke the local language passingly well now, and he had come to understand as much about the customs and beliefs as Jojanna knew. There was no reason for him to stay and many reasons for him to leave. He had spent months moving only a few miles from where he had been deposited by the white-haired magician, and he still had half a world to travel across.
    Jorgen said at last, “Where are you going?”
    “Home.”
    Jorgen seemed about to say something, then he fell quiet. Finally he asked, “What will we do?”
    Jojanna replied, “What we always do.”
    “You need a horse,” Kaspar said. “The summer wheat will be ready to harvest soon, and the corn is ready now. You need a horse to pull your wagon to market.”
    She nodded.
    “You will need to sell some cattle. How many?”
    “Two should bring me a serviceable horse.”
    Kaspar smiled. “One thing I do know is horses.” He neglected to mention that his expertise lay in the area of warhorses, hunters, and his sister’s sleek palfreys, not draft animals. Still, he could spot lameness, smell thrush in hooves, and gauge the temper of the animal, he supposed.
    “We shall have to go to Mastaba.”
    “Where is that?”
    “Two, three