I have seen him fight. He’s a proud one, very clever and lucky. In twenty years, they say, he never broke a bone. Rico hangs on every word when I tell him, cocks his head on one side, and sits there breathing slowly. This boy’s got no guile. He’d never make a thief. Sometimes he’s so stupid I tell him he couldn’t even be a shepherd. Then his big green brown eyes fix on me like coffee beans, and he smiles.