managed, painfully making his way toward a heavy man slopping pigs. The man dumped a bucket into the low, narrow troughâanimal bones, old vegetables, dinner scraps, and trimmings all mixed in a murky, brackish water. âMy . . . friend and I . . . have traveled . . . great distance, and if you could . . .â Temujin paused, wavering slightly. âWater . . . and food . . .â he finally finished simply.
The man shook out the rest of the bucket and tossed it to the corner of the pen.
âWe donât take very kindly to beggars around here, stranger,â the man said, his eyes narrowed suspiciously. âBut Iâve had good fortune this season, and itâd be an ill deed not to pass on at least a little of it.â The man rubbed the whiskers on his chin. âTell you what, if thereâs anything left once theyâre throughââhe indicated the two pigs greedily eating at the troughââyou can have whatâs left. Thatâs all I can do for you.â
Temujin scowled momentarily but forced a weak smile.
âThank . . . you . . .â he said, his eyes on the pigs.
Gamine drew near.
âH-heart attack, pig,â she said, her eyes on the trough, wishing as hard as she could. The foul mess in the brackish water was, at that moment, more appetizing than the finest meal in Fuchuan.
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In the end, they didnât wait for the pigs to finish. Squeezing through the bars of the pen, they waited until the manâs back was turned and worked their way to the far end of the trough, as far from the two monstrous pigs as possible. Luckily for them, the animals were too busy eating to pay them any mind, and Gamine and Temujin were able to scoop out handful after handful of the stuff and cram it into their waiting mouths. It smelled foul, and tasted even worse, but it was edible and had water in it, both of which were all that mattered at the moment.
They ate as much of the stuff as their shrunken stomachs would allow, the first food theyâd had in nearly three days, and if the pigs hadnât started toward them ominously, beady eyes regarding them almost as though they were dessert, Gamine and Temujin would have fallen asleep right in the muck. As it was, they scrambled back through the bars as quickly as their diminished strength would allow.
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Smelling now worse than the pigsâslop dripping down their chins and fronts, and muck and manure all over their clothes and hairâGamine and Temujin nevertheless breathed contented sighs of relief. Having crossed the unpeopled stretches of the plains, they had reached civilization again at last, though the journey had proved much longer and more difficult than Temujin had originally suggested, as Gamine was always quick to remind him.
ââJust a couple of days,ââ Gamine said, trying ineffectually to wipe some of the muck from her clothing. ââWeâll reach the farms of the northern plains in no time.â Isnât that what you said?â
âWell . . .â Temujin replied, dabbing daintily at the corners of his mouth with his sleeve, as though heâd just dined at a grand restaurant and not stolen scraps from a couple of pigs. âWeâre here now, arenât we, my little sprite?â He laughed slightly and glanced down at his ragged, soiled robes. âPerhaps a little more worse for wear, but still here, nevertheless.â
âFor all the good it does us,â Gamine said, looking around. âOur first real meal since leaving the city is at a pigâs trough, and it doesnât look as though our welcome is going to get much warmer.â
Men, women, and children walked past, carrying bundles and farm implements down the dirt road, all of them giving Gamine and Temujin a wide berth.
âWeâll work something out, I feel certain.â Temujin pointed at the road, which wound deeper into the little village. âPerhaps itâs just