‘Grow up, Omago,’ Nanton said. ‘I was catching a strong smell of “unfriendly”, so I gave them something to worry about. I told them that there were thousands of us wandering around in those hills, and that we are all armed. I was going to give them a quick demonstration with my sling, but I decided to keep it out of sight. If my nose was right about “unfriendly”, the less they know about us, the better.’
‘You could be right, I suppose. Did they ask you any other questions?’
‘None that made very much sense. For some reason, they seemed to think that our Veltan and his sister Zelana hated each other, and that there was a perpetual war going on between her people and us. The answer I gave them was just about as vague as I could make it. I told them that over the years I’ve killed dozens of enemies. Of course, I sort of glossed over the fact that the enemies I’ve killed were wolves, not people, so I think they swallowed it whole. Is Veltan going to be gone for much longer?’
‘I don’t know for certain, Nanton. He wasn’t too specific when he left.’ Omago frowned. ‘Where’s your flock right now?’
‘Up in the hill-country. My nephew’s watching over them while I’m gone.’
‘You won’t be going back up into the mountains with your sheep very soon, will you?’
‘Not until the snow melts off and I’ve got them sheared. My flock produced a lot of wool this past winter.’
‘Good. You usually graze your flock up near the Falls of Vash, don’t you?’
‘Almost always. There’s good grass up there and plenty of water.’
‘Keep an eye out for these strangers, will you? And if they come back again, I’d really appreciate it if you’d send your nephew down here to tell me about it. This is something that Veltan should really know about.’
‘I’ll take care of it, Omago.’ Nanton hitched up his belt. ‘I’d better get on back to my flock,’ he said. ‘There’s a young shepherdess near where my flock’s grazing, and my nephew’s breaking out in that sort of rash, so he’s not paying much attention to the flock.’
‘That’s been going around quite a bit here lately,’ Omago said with no hint of a smile.
‘I think spring has a lot to do with it, and spring isn’t really all that far away.’ Nanton shrugged. ‘It helps to increase the flock, I guess.’
‘Are we talking about people or sheep?’
‘Both flocks, probably. As long as there’s good grazing, it doesn’t really hurt anything, I guess. Babies are almost as pretty as lambs, and once they grow up, we can put them to work. Have a nice day, Omago.’ And then he turned and walked away.
‘I think you’d better tell Veltan about them, Omago,’ the little flax-farmer Selga suggested a week or so later. ‘They don’t really belong around here, and they talk sort of strange.’
‘Oh?’ Omago said. ‘Just exactly what do you mean by “strange”, Selga?’
‘It sort of sounded to me like their teeth were getting in the way of their tongues. I think people call it lisping. Anyway, they’re awfully short. I’m not very tall myself, but their heads didn’t even come up as high as my shoulder, and those grey, hooded smocks they wore weren’t made of linen or wool. It was something else entirely. They were asking all kinds of odd questions, but I saw right off that it wasn’t any of their business, so I didn’t give them any straight answers. You might want to tell Veltan about that. If these dinky little strangers are planning to give us trouble, they didn’t get much help from me.’
‘I’m sure he’ll appreciate that, Selga. Were you able to find out which direction they came from?’
‘As close as I could tell, they came down from out of the mountains near the Falls of Vash. If I happen to come across any more of them, I’ll ask them about that. Tell Veltan that I’m keeping my eyes open, and I’ll find out as much as I can about them.’
‘I’m sure he’ll appreciate that, Selga.’
Omago was certain that Veltan should be aware of these strangers, so before supper that evening he went up through the twilight to Veltan’s house to have a word with Yaltar. He went on in, climbed the stone stairway, and rapped on the little boy’s door. ‘It’s only me, Yaltar,’ he called.
Yaltar opened the door. ‘Come inside, Omago,’ he said.
‘Do you have any idea of when he’s coming home?’ Omago asked, looking with a certain disapproval at the boy’s cluttered room and unmade bed.
‘He didn’t say for sure, Omago,’ the boy replied. ‘I guess there are some things going on that need his attention.’
‘As soon as he comes home, tell him that I need to talk with him, Yaltar,’ Omago told the little boy. ‘Some peculiar things have been happening here lately, and I think he should know about them.’
‘I’ll be sure to tell him, Omago,’ the boy replied, fingering the peculiar-looking stone he had hanging on a leather thong around his neck like a pendant.
‘How did you manage to come by that opal, Yaltar?’ Omago asked.
‘I found it just outside the front door,’ Yaltar replied. ‘Isn’t it pretty?’
‘Beautiful,’ Omago agreed. ‘It’s a bit peculiar that you found it, though. As far as I know, there aren’t any opals around here.’
‘Maybe it was wandering around and got lost - or maybe it started feeling lonesome.’
‘Rocks almost never get lonesome, Yaltar. Ara’s cooking supper right now. Come along, and we’ll go eat.’
‘That sounds like a great idea, Omago.’
Veltan came home a week or so later, and he stopped by Omago’s house quite early one morning. ‘Yaltar said that you wanted to tell me something,’ he said. ‘He seemed to think it might be important.’
‘It could be,’ Omago replied and he repeated what Nanton and Selga had told him about the strangers and their questions.
‘I have to go talk with my brother,’ Veltan said. ‘Keep your ears open, and let me know about any more visits when I come back.’
‘I’ll do that,’ Omago promised.
The spring thaw that year produced a near disaster. The snow pack in the mountains had been much deeper than was usual, and the spring wind that melted off the snow each year wasn’t just warm; it seemed even hot. All the streams coming down out of the mountains overran their banks overnight, and then the floods began. To make things even worse, Veltan and Yaltar were away, so Veltan wasn’t there to control the floods, and the farmers couldn’t do anything except wring their hands as they watched the flood engulf their fields.