The other man snorted. “The thorns are not the result of sorcery, but of a hundred years of poverty and neglect. The Del King’s thorns, I call them, as do many others.”
Lief’s heart sank. By making the secret sign, this stranger had proved that he was dedicated to resisting the Shadow Lord. But plainly he hated the memory of the kings and queens of Deltora as much as Lief himself had once done, and blamed them for the kingdom’s misfortune.
He knew he could say nothing, but could not help staring at the man as he passed. The man returned his gaze, unsmiling, and left the shop, brushing past Jasmine as he went through the door.
“Who was that?” Barda whispered to Tom.
The shopkeeper settled his hat on his head more firmly before replying. “No names are mentioned in Tom’s shop but Tom’s own, sir,” he said calmly. “It is better so, in these hard times.”
Lief heard the door tinkle again and turned to see Jasmine leaving. Now that the possibility of danger had passed, she had become restless, and had decided to go out into the fresh air once more.
Perhaps Tom realized that Barda and Lief had seen and understood the mark the stranger had made on the counter, for suddenly he picked up the fire beads and the light pipe, and added them to their little pile of goods.
“No extra charge,” he said, as they glanced at him in surprise. “Tom is always happy to help a traveller — as you have seen.”
“A traveller who is on the right side.” Barda smiled.
But Tom merely raised his eyebrows, as if he had no idea what the big man meant, and held out his hand for payment.
“A pleasure to serve you, sirs,” he said, as they handed over their money. He counted the coins rapidly, nodded, and put them away in his cash box.
“And what of our free gift?” asked Lief cheekily. “The sign in the window says —”
“Ah, of course,” said Tom. “The gift.” He bent and fumbled under the counter. When he stood up, he was holding a small, flat tin box. He handed it to Lief.
“If you do not ask, you do not get. Is that your motto, young sir?” he asked. “Well, it is my motto too.”
Lief looked at the box. It fitted easily into the palm of his hand, and looked quite old. The faded lettering on the label said simply:
“What is it?” Lief asked, bewildered.
“The instructions are on the back,” said Tom.
Suddenly, he paused, listening. Then he slipped out from behind the counter and darted through the shop’s back door.
In his haste he had left the door open, and Lief and Barda followed him. To their surprise, the door led directly into a small field enclosed by a white fence and completely hidden from the road by the tall trees that surrounded it. Three grey horses were standing by the fence, and sitting upon it, patting them, was Jasmine, with Kree perched on her shoulder.
Tom strode towards the fence, waving his arms. “Do not touch the animals, if you please!” he shouted. “They are valuable.”
“I am not hurting them!” exclaimed Jasmine indignantly, but she took her hand away. The beasts snuffled in disappointment.
“Horses!” Barda muttered to Lief. “If only we had horses to ride! How much faster would our journey be then?”
Lief nodded slowly. He had never ridden before, and he was sure that Jasmine had not, either. But surely they could soon learn. On horseback they would be able to outrun any enemy — even Grey Guards.
“Will you sell us the beasts?” he asked, as they caught up with Tom. “For example, if we were to return to you all the things we have bought, would that be enough —?”
Tom looked at him sharply. “No exchanges!” he snapped. “No refunds! No regrets!”
Lief’s stomach lurched with disappointment.
“What are you talking about?” demanded Jasmine. “What is this ‘buy’ and ‘sell’?”
Tom stared at her in surprise. “Your friends would like to have some beasts to ride, little miss,” he explained, as though Jasmine were a small child. “But they no longer have anything to give me in exchange for them. They have spent their money on other things. And” — he glanced at Lief’s cloak and sword — “they do not choose to trade anything else.”
Jasmine nodded slowly, taking it in. “Perhaps, then, I have something to trade,” she said. “I have many treasures.”
She began to feel in her pockets, bringing out in turn a feather, a length of plaited twine, some stones, her second dagger, and the broken-toothed comb from her nest in the Forests of Silence. Tom watched her, smiling and shaking his head.
“Jasmine!” Lief called, feeling a little ashamed. “None of those things is —”
Then his jaw dropped. Barda gasped. And Tom’s eyes bulged.
For Jasmine had pulled out a small bag and was carelessly upending it. Gold coins were pouring out, making a shining heap on her lap.
Of course, Lief thought, after his first astonishment had passed. Jasmine had robbed many Grey Guards who had fallen victim to the horrors of the Forests of Silence. He had actually seen a mass of gold and silver coins among the treasures she kept in her treetop nest. But he had not realized that she had brought some of them with her when she left the Forests to join their quest. He had quite forgotten about them till now, and, because to her they were just pretty keepsakes, she had not mentioned them.
A few coins bounced away onto the ground. Barda hurried to pick them up, but Jasmine barely looked at them. She was looking at Tom — at his glittering eyes. Perhaps she did not understand about buying and selling, but she recognized greed when she saw it.
“You like this?” she asked, holding up a handful of the gold.
“Indeed I do, little miss,” said Tom, recovering a little. “I like it very much.”
“Then, will you exchange the horses for it?”
A strange expression crossed Tom’s face — a pained expression, as though his desire for the gold was struggling with another feeling. As if he was calculating, weighing up risks.
Finally, he seemed to come to a decision.
“I cannot sell the horses,” he said regretfully. “They — are promised to others. But — I have something better. If you will come this way …”
He led them to a shed at one side of the field. He opened the shed door and beckoned them inside.
Standing together in one corner, munching hay, were three creatures of very odd appearance. They were about the same size as horses, but had long necks, very small heads with narrow, drooping ears, and, most surprising of all, only three legs — one thick one at the front and two thinner ones at the back. They were unevenly splodged all over with black, brown, and white, as though they had been splashed with paint, and instead of hooves they had large, flat, hairy feet, each with two broad toes.
“What are they?” asked Barda, astonished.
“Why, they are muddlets,” cried Tom, striding forward to turn one of the beasts towards them. “And very fine examples of the breed. Steeds fit for a king, sir. The very thing for you and your companions.”
Barda, Lief, and Jasmine glanced at one another uncertainly. The idea of being able to ride instead of walk was very appealing. But the muddlets looked extremely strange.
“Their names are Noodle, Zanzee, and Pip,” said Tom. Affectionately, he slapped each of the muddlets’ broad rumps in turn. The beasts went on chewing hay, completely undisturbed.
“They seem gentle enough,” Barda said, after a moment. “But can they run? Are they swift?”
“Swift?” exclaimed Tom, holding up his hands and rolling his eyes. “My friend, they are swift as the wind! They are strong, too — far stronger than any horse. And loyal — oh, their loyalty is famous. In addition, they eat almost anything, and thrive on hard work. Muddlets are everyone’s steeds of choice, in these parts. But they are hard to get. Very hard.”