“Precious few come through here. A thief, you say? We haven’t had any thieving around here, just the Tradams’ horse, but that was two winters ago.” He eyed Dieter’s horse. “Looked a little like yours.” “She’s a jewel thief, she is,” Dieter said. “She’s young,” Keth said. “We can’t give you a physical description since she is a master of disguise, but she’s a young woman.” Jaw working, the farmer said, “The only ones passing through here in the last few days was a couple. The man’s horse had thrown a shoe. Didn’t want to wait for the farrier to come, did they? No, they wouldn’t wait even a day. They paid me twice what my good gray Standard was worth, left the man’s horse here for me to have, and rode away after a nice meal. In a hurry, yes, but those weren’t jewel thieves. My wife had an emerald ring before they came and she still has it now. Pleasant folk, if rushed. Polite and educated.
