Wrede, Patricia C - Mairelon 01 by Mairelon the Magician (v5.0)

was incredibly stubborn about selling it."
                Kim
thought back to the conversation she'd inadvertently overheard. "So now
you're going to Ranton Hill to find the platter part. What about the rest of
it?"
                "I
can use each piece to help find the others, and it gets easier the more pieces
I have. With the bowl and the platter together, it won't be hard to locate the
four spheres."
                "What
about--" Kim's question was interrupted by a peremptory knock at the door.
Mairelon lifted an eyebrow in amusement and went to open it.
                Hunch
stood outside, his expression clearly disapproving. "You've 'ad your hour,
Master Richard," he said. "And I'd like to know where 'Is Lordship's
sending us off to this time."
                " Essex ,"
Mairelon said, and grinned. "Ranton Hill, to be precise. Did you have any other questions, Kim? Then, if you'll excuse us, we had better
go and figure out what route will get us there with a minimum of delay. We can
talk more in the morning."

8
                For the
next five days, it rained. Torrential downpours alternated with misty drizzle
or bone-chilling showers that made even the best roads treacherous going. The
seldom-frequented lanes used by Mairelon's wagon became a sticky quagmire which
plastered the horses and mired the wagon wheels. Despite Mairelon's best
efforts, their progress slowed to a crawl.
                None of
them rode; the wagon alone was nearly too heavy for the horses to tow along the
roads. Hunch and Mairelon took turns leading the horses, sliding and stumbling
through cold, oozy mud that sucked at their feet and weighted down their boots
in inch-thick layers. Even Kim sank ankle-deep unless she kept to the verge and
slid on the slippery wet mats of last year's grass instead.
                By the
time they stopped to camp each night, they were all exhausted, but Mairelon
insisted that Kim continue her lessons no matter how tired she was. It was
easier to agree than argue, so Kim applied herself as best she could to arts
such as reading and legerdemain which could not be conveniently practiced while
marching through the rain. During the day, Mairelon continued her instruction
in what Kim privately called "flash talk." When her voice grew
hoarse, he let her stop and listen while he recited poetry or plays, or
rendered the same speech over and over in a variety of styles and accents.
                They
slept in the wagon, though Hunch muttered balefully and chewed his mustache
over the arrangement. Kim was not really sure whether he was fretting over
Mairelon's morals or the spoons; by the end of the second day, she no longer
cared. Sleeping in a place that was even approximately dry was far more
important than Hunch's disapproval. Mairelon appeared as unaware of Hunch's
glares as he seemed unconscious of any impropriety, though Kim did not for a
minute believe that he was as oblivious as he looked.
                On the
sixth morning, Kim followed Hunch out of the wagon to find a steady, soaking
rain falling from an endless sheet of clouds the color of lead. With a snort of
disgust, she pulled the collar of her cloak tighter around her neck in a
hopeless effort to keep the water out. The cloak was Mairelon's, and much worn,
and she had had to tie it up with a length of rope at her waist to keep it from
dragging in the mud. It made a bulky, awkward garment and she was positive that
she would slip and end up covered in mud before the morning was over.
                "Cheer
up," Mairelon said as he passed her, heading for the horses. "It will
stop before noon ."
                "Hah,"
Kim said. She took an injudicious look at the sky, which was still uniformly
leaden, and water dripped down her neck. "Ow!" she said, and glared
after Mairelon. "If you're so knowin', why ain't you put
a stop to it afore