The Name of the Wind

“Shut up about Tehlu. Get off me and grab that thing. It might still be worth something to Diken.”

“Look what you did!” Pike continued to howl above me. A kick caught me in the side and rolled me halfway over. The edges of my vision started to darken. I almost welcomed it as a distraction. But the deeper pain was still there, untouched. I balled my bloody hands into stinging fists.

“These knob things still seem okay They’re silvery, I’ll bet we can get something for them.”

Pike pulled back his foot again. I tried to put up my hands to keep it away, but my arms just twitched and Pike kicked me in the stomach.

“Grab that bit over there....”

“Pike. Pike!”

Pike kicked me in the stomach again and I vomited weakly onto the cobblestones.

“You there, stop! City Watch!” A new voice shouted. A heartbeat of stillness was followed by a scuffle and a flurry of pattering feet. A second later, heavy boots pounded past and faded in the distance.

I remember the ache in my chest. I blacked out.

I was shaken out of darkness by someone turning my pockets inside out. I tried unsuccessfully to open my eyes.

I heard a voice muttering to itself, “Is this all I get for saving your life? Copper and a couple shims? Drinks for an evening? Worthless little sod.” He coughed deep in his chest and the smell of stale liquor washed over me. “Screaming like that. If you hadn’t sounded like a girl I wouldn’t have run all this way.”

I tried to say something, but it dribbled out as a groan.

“Well, you’re alive. That’s something, I suppose.” I heard a grunt as he stood up, then the heavy thumping of his boots faded away into silence.

After a while I found I could open my eyes. My vision was blurry and my nose felt larger than the rest of my head. I prodded it delicately Broken. Remembering what Ben had taught me, I put one hand on each side of it and twisted it sharply back into place. I clenched my teeth against a cry of pain, and my eyes filled with tears.

I blinked them away and was relieved when I saw the street without the painful blurriness of a moment ago. The contents of my small sack lay next to me on the ground: a half ball of string, a small dull knife, Rhetoric and Logic, and the remainder of a piece of bread the farmer had given me for lunch. It seemed like forever ago.

The farmer. I thought of Seth and Jake. Soft bread and butter. Songs while riding in a wagon. Their offer of a safe place, a new home....

A sudden memory was followed by a sudden sickening panic. I looked around the alley, my head aching from the sudden movement. Sifting the garbage with my hands I found some terribly familiar shards of wood. I stared at them mutely as the world darkened imperceptibly around me. I darted a look at the thin strip of sky visible overhead and saw it was purpling into twilight.

How late was it? I hurried to gather my possessions, treating Ben’s book more gently than the rest, and limped off in what I hoped was the direction of Seaward Square.

The last of twilight had faded from the sky by the time I found the square. A few wagons rolled sluggishly among the few straggling customers. I limped wildly from corner to corner of the square, searching madly for the old farmer who had given me a ride. Searching for the sight of one of those ugly, knobby squash.

When I finally found the bookstore Seth had parked beside, I was panting and staggering. Seth and his wagon were nowhere to be seen. I sank down into the empty space their wagon had left and felt the aches and pains of a dozen injuries that I had forced myself to ignore.

I felt them out, one by one. I had several painful ribs, although I couldn’t tell if they were broken or if the cartilage was torn. I was dizzy and nauseous when I moved my head too quickly, probably a concussion. My nose was broken, and I had more bruises and scrapes than I could conveniently count. I was also hungry.

The last being the only thing I could do anything about, I took what was left of my piece of bread from earlier in the day and ate it. It wasn’t enough, but it was better than nothing. I took a drink from a horse trough and was thirsty enough not to care that the water was brackish and sour.

I thought of leaving, but it would take me hours of walking in my current condition. Besides, there was nothing waiting for me on the outskirts of the city except miles upon miles of harvested farmland. No trees to keep the wind away. No wood to make a fire. No rabbits to set traps for. No roots to dig. No heather for a bed.

I was so hungry my stomach was a hard knot. Here at least I could smell chicken cooking somewhere. I would have gone looking for the smell, but I was dizzy, and my ribs hurt. Maybe tomorrow someone would give me something to eat. Right now I was too tired. I wanted nothing more than to sleep.