Ventus by Karl Schroeder

Karl Schroeder / Ventus / Page 275
abruptly and climbed into the covered back of the wagon.
"...My niece, Tamsin," finished Suneil. "Who is not
herself today. And you are?"
"Jordan Mason." He affected the half-bow that the
highborn Boros had used on one another. It was harder to
perform while walking, though.
"Pleased to meet you." There was a momentary silence.
The cart was moving at just the pace Jordan was walking, so he
remained abreast of Suneil. From the back of the wagon came
the sound of things being tossed about.
"Calm weather, for autumn," said Suneil. Jordan agreed
that it was. "Clouds moving in, though. Not good--clouds
could hide things in the sky, don’t you think?"
"What do you mean?"
"News travels slowly, I see!" Suneil laughed. "You’re
dressed like a highborn lad, surely you’ve heard the news about
the destruction of the Boros household!"
"Ah, that. Yes. I did hear about it," he said
uncomfortably.
"I’m itching to find out what really happened," said
Suneil. "We’ve had ten versions of the story from ten different
people. When I saw you walking by the road, coming from the
direction of the estate, I thought, could it be? A refugee from
our little disaster?"
Jordan, unsure of himself in this situation, merely
shrugged.
Suneil was silent for a while, staring ahead. "The fact
is," he said at last, "that my curiosity has gotten the best of me.
If we were to run into someone who actually knew what had
happened at the estate--or Winds forbid, someone who was
actually there!--then I might be inclined to give that person a
ride with us, provided they told their story."