Free Will Sparrow's Road by Karen Cushman Page B

is
wheat.”
    "'Tis a trick, scurvy knave, a trick,” Alf and Hugh cried, but Fitz and Will laughed.
    "Nay, no trick, but to prove her wits, she shall do it again,” said Samuel. "Duchess, how does a man make a river of salt?”
    This time Fitz shrugged, Alf frowned, Will scratched his head, and Hugh looked down at the ground, but still none had an answer. The pig was poked again, and again she squealed, "Whee.”
    "Certes, 'tis true.
Weep.
To make a river of salt, a man does weep. You see, pigs do be smarter than people.” He scratched the Duchess behind her ears. "Also clean, curious, and sensitive to scorn, so I pray you ne'er again speak of stupid pigs, pigheadedness, dirty pigs, fat as a pig, or any such.” He drew a leather bottle from beneath his doublet and took a deep pull. "Pigs do take a bit of care, need to be kept cool and wet and their bellies full, but I ne'er saw a pig who teased and taunted another pig.” Samuel winked at Will.
    "Now, come and follow the Duchess here,” Samuel continued, "who will perform at the west end of the square. Pigs must be kept busy lest they fret. And we shall astound you with what else she do know.” The man and the pig left, followed by Alf and Hugh, who began again to push and shove each other as they followed, and Fitz.

TEN

OF AN ALARM GIVEN ,
A NOSE BLOODIED, AND
HURTFUL WORDS SPOKEN
     
    "W ILL SPARROW ,” cried Master Tidball, striding back to the oddities booth, "I see the horse and wagon here still! I do not fancy paying a fine to the keepers of the fair. Hasten to take Solomon and the wagon to the field yonder, and give a penny to the man who watches the wagons.” He sat down on the wall and stretched out his bad leg.
    A penny. Will had just the one Tidball had given him and no more. He cleared his throat loudly. "Sir, I have but one penny, on account for my wage. I believe now would be a good time to give me—”
    "Fitz is the man to see about wages,” said Master Tidball. He struggled to his feet again and called to a passing man in tall boots and hooded cloak, "I have wonders inside to astound and astonish.” To Will he whispered, "Take the horse and wagon, boy, and go.”
    Will took Solomon and the wagon to the field nearby, where merchants and fairgoers had parked their vehicles. He gave his only penny to a man who promised the wagon would be safe and Solomon well tended. Coming back, he inspected the market stalls stocked with saddles and baskets and woolen cloth, plates and candlesticks of pewter and brass, heaps of apple tarts, creamy cheeses, and plums. His mouth watered. He would, he determined, find Fitz and collect his wages. Four pennies, by his reckoning, and mayhap tomorrow's two in advance. And another to replace the one he had just given away. Enough for cherry almond cake and pork ribs, small beer and walnuts, and something left.
    The boy nearly stumbled over Fitz behind the leather-goods stall. The little man, face bruised and bloodied, was crouched on the ground, puking and spitting. The drunken sot had been brawling, Will thought. He had seen his father thus many an evening.
    When Fitz sat back, Will began. "Fitz, I have come to obtain my wage.”
    "Go away, boy. Do not bother me.” Fitz spat a bloody tooth onto the ground.
    "I have labored these days honestly and honorably and require that you—”
    Fitz stood. He spat out another glob of blood, narrowly missing Will's bare feet. "Goats and monkeys! Aroint you! Betake yourself! Do not trouble me about your pennies. I have no pennies, no shillings, no pounds. Go and bother someone else.”
    Will did not move, but Fitz staggered away.
The sodden-witted cur,
Will thought.
He has drunk away my wage and I am left with nothing! I will leave this company,
he decided,
but not before collecting the pennies owed me.
    As Will made his way back toward the oddities booth, his nose began to tickle. Smoke. He smelled smoke from somewhere. Fire was always a problem in a place of flimsy stalls and