"Say, do you know what that ruckus by the crossroads is about?" you ask, "Seemed to be quite a crowd." Mattsson looks at you, eyebrows drawn low. He might just be squinting because the sun is behind your head, but you get the feeling he’s trying to figure you out. "Couldn’t say," he says, finally. Draining the last from his water skin, he shoves it into his pocket and stands up. "There’re people I’ve got to meet. Maybe one of them could tell you, if you really want to know."
Stand up and follow Mattsson. Wait for Mattsson to leave, then go talk to the people by the wagon.