Not that Jed had lived the life of a monk.There were places in Exeter he had liked to go, known to men such as himself.But none of the men by the Exeter docks or in far-flung foreign ports knew his name, never mind cared enough to notice that he had vanished.
He raised an eyebrow at Solomon.“Have you?”
“A wife?”He shook his head.“No.”
Jed waited to see if he would say anything else, but he didn’t.
The frog let out another enthusiastic croak.Water splashed in the rhyne as a water-hen disappeared under the surface.
Jed climbed to his feet.“Come on, let’s get back to work.”
Chapter Four
The following morning, Jed found Solomon down in the farmyard, with a peaceable bay mare nuzzling his neck over the stable door.He was chuntering to her in an undertone.Jed came to join him, brushing the hay-loft dust from his clothes.
The mare turned her head towards Jed, sniffing and snorting, and Jed rubbed her nose.
“I had a fine bay carthorse,” he said.“I don’t know what became of her when I was pressed.”
He’d probably spent more time with Bess than with any other living creature, driving over the moors in rain and in sunshine.A sudden fear tugged at his heart.Surely Carrie and Aunt Ellen would have kept her—they would need her to keep the business going.
Soon, he promised himself.Soon, he would be sitting on the box once more, reins in his hands and the wind at his back.
“I’ve never been to sea,” Solomon said.“But I don’t imagine you had many horses on board?”
“Pigs, goats, and sheep aplenty, but not much in the way of horses, no.A pangolin once.”
“Apangolin?What’s that?”
“A sort of gurt beetle, big as a cat.The captain bought it in Madras, and it used to run about the deck on its tiny legs and make a nuisance of itself.It brung us good luck, or so we decided.Though I don’t know how happy it can have been, torn away from its forest and trapped in a floating prison.”
Solomon said, “Puts me in mind of a gentleman I saw once with a pet monster: an alley-gater, he said it was called.A giant lizard with humongous teeth.It had to be kept chained and caged all the time.That weren’t no proper place for such a beast, poor thing.”
“Where the devil did you see that?”
“At one of the big coaching inns in London.I was an ostler there, up until last week.”
Jed whistled.“That’s a busy life.”
“Never a dull moment, that’s for sure.You get all manner of people on the roads—and all manner of odd things to transport.You must have seen as much yourself, being a carrier.”
“I never had any wild beasts, though.Or no wilder than my neighbour’s geese, leastways.”
That got a grin from Solomon.“Will you take up your carrier’s route again, when you get home?”he asked.
“I hope so, yes.”
“You’re not worried about being pressed out of your village again?”
“A hot press don’t last forever.You just have to avoid being struck by lightning when the storm is rumbling overhead.Then the gang pack up and move on to a fresh hunting ground, and you can breathe again for a space.And I know no one in my village will betray me as a deserter.”
“And the war has to end someday, surely,” Solomon offered.
“Surely.”Sometimes it felt like England had been at war with France almost as long as Jed had been alive.The horse snorted, as if in agreement, and Jed gave her nose a final pat.“We’d best get on.What did we do with the shovels last night?”
The two of them were in such different places, Jed thought as they went to fetch the shovels.Jed would soon be home, but Solomon—as far as Jed understood—was travelling into the unknown.Travellingawayfrom something, perhaps.But that was his own business.
Turn the glass and strike the bell.An endless round, over and over and over.
