Chapter 52

The insulating tabby Otter stuffed between inner and outer walls was still standing in most places. The floor was pretty well eaten up by flames, but it wouldn’t be like starting all over to rebuild the place. Replacing the stolen water pump was likely beyond my smithing skills, but Timo could fashion another one. The house would make a decent place for Matthew and me. I glanced toward the hayloft. That was taking a lot on faith. Was his thirst for a warrior’s life quenched, or would he disappear again one day?

The answer I came up with brought me low again. My heart knew what my mind rejected. He was a nomad. He came by it honestly. Our forebears had always moved to someplace new before they wore out the land they left behind. Another way the white man had changed us. 17