"He may have left spells," said Ambros. Paks found herself hoping that the brigands were hiding somewhere else. She did not want to meet a wizard who had only pretended to blow himself up. But she had to agree that Seriyan's old keep was the closest of the known ruins to the blaze she'd found, and Mal agreed to go out with her the next day to take a look at the trail sign.

Mal arrived at the inn driving a sturdy two-wheeled cart with a large shaggy pony between the shafts. His big axe stood head-down in the corner beside him. Two more wheels filled the bed of the cart.

"This way," he said quietly, downing the tankard of ale which Hebbinford brought him without being told. "This way I'm just hunting a good straight bole of limber pine for the Town Hall extension. With these extra wheels, I can haul anything we find." Paks wondered how; she had never seen foresters at work. Mal saw her confusion and laughed loudly. Paks noticed others watching and listening. "See, lady, you don't know everything yet." Now his voice was louder, and more accented. "What I do is cut a short heavy piece for the axle, to bind these wheels together, and then tie them near the end of the bole. With the front end resting in the cart, and the other held by the wheels—now do you see?" Paks nodded. She started to ask why the second set of wheels didn't fall out from under the tree trunk, and then realized that he could tie it securely to the wood that held the wheels together.

"Ride along with me," said Mal, as if she had planned something else, "and I'll show you some more things you don't know about."

"I should find Ambros—" she said doubtfully, as they had arranged. Mal laughed again.

"Oh, Ambros! By Gird, you don't want to spend every day with him, do you? He's a yeoman-marshal, after all. Come on, now—" He gave her an enormous wink, and swaggered back to his cart after handing one of the serving wenches his tankard. Someone laughed. Paks grinned.

"You go on ahead; I'll catch up when I've got my horse ready. Which way are you going?"

"Oh, west again. I remember a few years ago, out that way, there was a straight, tall, limbless bole right near the road. Not so hard, you see, if the trees I want are next to the road."

"Good," said Paks. "That way I can tell Ambros I won't be riding with him this morning." Mal waved and went on, and she ducked into the stable to saddle the black horse. She hoped their act had gone off well. She hated to think of a spy in the village, but the evidence for such was persuasive.

* * *