In the Land of the Long White Cloud

Well, that was none of his business. As for David, the loving glances he cast at Daphne left no doubt about his sexual orientation. Daphne did not, however, return these glances. Another inevitable disappointment for the boy.
    George thought for a moment.
    “Listen, David,” he said. “Lucas Warden…Luke Denward…was not so alone in the world as you believe. He has a family, and I think his wife has a right to know how he died. When you’re feeling better, there will be a horse waiting for you in the rental stables. Take it and ride to the Canterbury Plains and ask for Gwyneira Warden at Kiward Station. Will you do that…for Luke?”
    David nodded seriously. “If you think that’s what he would have wanted.”
    “He would certainly have wanted that, David,” George replied. “And after that, ride to Christchurch and come to my offices. Greenwood Enterprises. You won’t find any gold there, but you will find a job that pays better than being a stable boy. If you’re a clever boy—andyou must be or Lucas would not have taken you under his wing—you might even grow wealthy in a few years.”
    David nodded again, but this time reluctantly.
    Daphne, though, gave George a friendly look. “You’ll give him a job where he can sit, right?” she asked as she led the visitor out. “The barber says he’ll always limp; the leg is bum. He can’t work at the site or in the stables anymore. But if you find a place for him in an office…then he’ll also change his mind, with regard to girls. It was good for him that he didn’t fall for Luke, but I’m not the right bride for him.”
    She spoke calmly and without bitterness, and George felt a slight regret that this active, clever creature was a girl. As a man, Daphne could have made her fortune in the New Country. As a girl, she could only be what she would have been in London—a whore.

    More than half a year passed before Steinbjörn Sigleifson directed his horse’s steps over the approach to Kiward Station. After lying for a long while in bed, the boy slowly had to learn how to walk again. In addition to that, taking leave of Daphne and the twins had been hard for him, even though the girl had been telling him for days that it was time for him to be on his way. In the end, there had been nothing else left for him to do. Madame Jolanda expressly asked that he clear out of her room in the brothel, and though Mr. Miller allowed him to make camp in the stables again, he could no longer repay the favor. There was no work for a cripple in Westport—the hard-bitten Coasters had informed him of that without sugarcoating the matter. Even though the boy could already get around without trouble, he still had a strong limp, and he could not remain on his feet for long. So he had finally ridden away—and now stood dazed before the statues on the facade of the manor where Lucas Warden had lived. He still had no idea why his friend had left Kiward Station, but he must have had important reasons to give up such luxury. Gwyneira Warden must have been a real shrew. Steinbjörn—after leaving Daphne, he saw noreason to hold on to the name David—seriously considered turning around without accomplishing anything. Who could imagine what he would have to hear from Lucas’s wife. She might even hold him responsible for Lucas’s death.
    “What are you doing here? State your name and your desire.”
    Steinbjörn started when he heard a high-pitched voice behind him. It came from the bushes below, and the young Icelander—who had grown up believing in fairies and elves who lived in stones—at first suspected a spirit.
    The little girl on the pony who then appeared behind him made a suitably mundane impression on him, even if the rider and steed had a fay-like sweetness. Though the horses on his home island were not big, Steinbjörn had never seen such a small pony. But this tiny sorrel mare—whose color harmonized perfectly with the red-blonde hair of its little rider—looked like a full-grown horse in a miniature edition. The girl directed the horse purposefully toward him.
    “Get moving!” she said rudely.
    Steinbjörn had to laugh. “My name is Steinbjörn Sigleifson, and I’m looking for Lady Gwyneira Warden. This is Kiward Station, isn’t it?”
    The girl nodded seriously. “Yes, but they’re shearing the sheep now, so Mummy isn’t home. Yesterday she was overseeing warehouse three; today she is at number two. She’s trading with the foreman. Grandfather