Disclaimers: see Chapter
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Chapter 5: The Trade Route
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The watch were calling mid-day
and Torhafn market was awash with its usual chaotic activity as the last of
the bales were loaded onto the wagons. Tevi heaved the final one into place,
and then stepped back while Verron and Kimal secured the tarpaulin cover. Nearby
Marith was finalising payment to a burly fur-trader from the north of Walderim,
who appeared to be wearing half his merchandise across his own broad back.
"I hear you're leaving
town." a voice said at Tevi's shoulder. She glanced around to see Aigur
standing behind her. "Derag said you came looking for me this morning."
"I wanted to say goodbye.
These folk have asked me to go with them."
Aigur's eyes glanced in the
trader's direction. "They're from the Protectorate?"
"Yes."
"You'll be going back there
with them?"
"Is that not wise?"
"You could do a lot worse."
Aigur looked a little wistful. "I'm sometimes tempted to go back myself."
"You came from the Protectorate?"
Tevi said in surprise.
"Long, long ago. And if
I hadn't been a rash fool, I'd never have been forced to leave. It's a good
place, for the honest. You should do well there."
"Well... maybe." Tevi
shrugged, a little self-consciously.
"Oh, go on with you."
Aigur nudged her in the ribs. "Will you promise me something?"
"Of course."
"In the Protectorate, if
someday you go through the town of Longford Ash - you won't find anyone who
remembers me, or if they do, they won't speak well of me - but there's a tavern,
the Blue Boar. Buy a tankard of their best ale and toast the old place for me."
"I will. I promise."
Aigur gave a toothless smile
and patted Tevi's arm. "Good luck. May your gods watch over you."
"And may your gods watch
over you." Tevi replied.
"Oh, I think they gave
up on me long ago."
The nearby wagon rocked as Verron
climbed onto the driver's seat. Aigur met Tevi's eyes and said, "I think
your new friends are ready to go. Farewell Tevi."
"Farewell Aigur."
A lump rose to Tevi's throat.
The static life of the islands had given her little experience at goodbyes -
until recently. The purse at her belt was heavy with coin from the sale of her
boat. She was tempted to give it to the old woman, but she knew the offer would
be turned down. There was nothing Tevi could do but smile take her place by
Verron.
Marith, with Derry beside her,
steered the leading wagon. Kimal rode on a saddle pony, a sturdy mountain-bred
beast, dwarfed beside the shaggy carthorses. When Tevi looked back there was
no sign of Aigur among the market crowd.
The wagons crawled their way
through the busy streets, rumbling over uneven cobbles. Tevi watched the stream
of mean faces flow past. She was not sorry to be leaving Torhafn. The weather
conspired to show the town at its most dismal for their departure, a grey overcast
morning holding the promise of rain. Colours were stretched in the sullen light.
To the east, the tops of the Aldrak Mountains were lost in cloud.
A ruined gatehouse marked the
remains of the old city walls. Thereafter the dwellings became even more squalid
and the road turned into a rutted dirt track. In a short while, the travellers
had left the last of the miserable hovels behind and began the ascent into the
hills rising south of Torhafn.
The well-worn road climbed in
a series of bends. As the incline grew steeper the horses strained against the
load, their muscles bunching and the harness creaking alarmingly. A niche cut
into the rock-face held a small shrine. Tevi stared at the engraved statue to
take her mind off the sheer drop on the other side of the road. The nearest
horse snorted loudly.
"Is this road safe?"
Tevi asked.
"There won't be any bandits
this close to town." Verron answered.
"I was thinking more about
the danger of falling."
Verron smiled. "The horses
will manage fine.
After a few more hairpins, the
road levelled out. Verron leaned back in the seat and relaxed his grip on the
reins. He glanced at his passenger. "I'm always glad to get out of Torhafn.
It's just about the worst place I know, and I've seen some dire spots in my
time. When we were younger, Marith and I used to take the eastern sea routes,
out past Ekranos and the straits of Perithia. We even travelled north to Tirakhalod
a few times."
"You don't go there any
more?"
"They can be dangerous
places. We risked it because there's fortune to be made. But now Marith and
I are getting on we prefer a quieter life. For the last few seasons, we've done
the southern trade route. It's a lot safer - apart from Torhafn. There's not
such an good profit, but we've built enough capital so we can trade in luxuries
that give a better margin, and we have other investments, back in the Protectorate."
"Don't sorcerers control
everything in the Protectorate? I'd heard ordinary people weren't allowed to
run their own lives."
"You'll have heard that
in Torhafn."
"Isn't it true?"
"Hardly. The Coven of Lyremouth
theoretically rules the Protectorate, with the Guardian as their leader, but
they pretty much let the guilds manage their own affairs, as long as we pay
our taxes." Verron shrugged.
"You don't mind paying
taxes?"
At that Verron laughed. "I
admit I'd rather not, but it isn't as if we don't get something in return."
"Which is?"
"As the name suggests -
protection."
"From what?" Tevi
asked.
"Mainly other sorcerers."
"That sounds similar to
the sort of protection you can buy in Torhafn."
"It's a lot cleaner than
anything you'll find in Torhafn, and it's not as if there's any other option.
Sorcerers have ruled every civilisation since time begun. At least the Protectorate
is benign and, best of all, stable. It's been going for over four hundred years,
which makes it unique."
"What happened to the other
civilisations?" Tevi asked.
"They collapsed when the
sorcerer who built the empire died. The Coven isn't dependant on any one sorcerer.
When the Guardian dies they just elect another."
Tevi frowned "Aigur did
say the Protectorate was a good place to live."
"It is, but it will be
some time before you get to judge for yourself. We won't return to it until
we reach Serac in the autumn."
The wagons finally reached the
crest of the hill. Ahead of them the road dipped across a swathe of gently rolling
moor. Tevi twisted in her seat and looked back on the town. Seen from a distance,
Torhafn was not so bad. If you did not know better you could almost imagine
the docks looked quaint. Tevi's gaze shifted to the horizon, a grey blur of
rain and mist. Far out to sea was Storenseg. Then the wagons rolled forward
and both town and sea were lost over the brow of the hill.
* * * * * *
Despite Verron's fears, the journey
to Scathberg passed without incident. The only people on the road were fellow
traders and couriers. To help pass the time Verron gave Tevi lessons in controlling
the team of carthorses and Kimal coached her in the art of riding.
The mountainous islands did not
lend themselves to land travel. The sea was the main highway and the original
settlers had not bothered taking horses with them; the nearest things were the
wiry donkeys used to pull carts. As a girl, Tevi had sat on the backs of these
long-suffering beasts of burden, but that had been a game for children, not a
method of transport. However, Tevi soon began to acquire a degree of competence
on horseback.
They entered Scathberg eighteen
days after leaving Torhafn. The sun was high as they rode down the main street.
Both sides were lined with shops and taverns and houses. Apart from the absence
of ancient ruins, the architecture bore a strong resemblance to the richer parts
of Torhafn, with solid grey-stone buildings and slate tiled roofs, but there was
no way Tevi could confuse the two towns.
"It feels friendlier"
she said to Kimal, who was riding beside her.
"True - you don't have to
sit with your back to the wall in the taverns." Kimal's tone was dismissive.
The distinctive sound of a market
was growing louder, a hubbub overlain with the shouts of peddlers. Just before
they reached it, the wagons turned into a side street and finally came to a halt
in a small courtyard. Their arrival brought a thin young man, of twenty or so,
out of a doorway. Despite the advanced hour, a dark shadow of stubble masked his
jaw, allowing Tevi to be sure of his gender. His bleary eyes and dishevelled clothing
told her he had not long been awake.
Marith jumped down to greet him.
"Well met Yarle."
"Well met Marith, Verron."
He gave a half-hearted nod.
"Is your mother available?"
Marith asked, looking around.
"She died last autumn. I'm
running the business now." Yarle said, looking at his feet.
Marith floundered for a suitable
response. "I'm sorry to hear that. I enjoyed doing business with her."
"She got a fever last winter."
"That's tragic. She wasn't
old."
Yarle shrugged, he clearly did
not want to discuss it further. "You're here to trade?"
"Of course. I'll show you
our goods." Marith took her lead from the young man.
A tap on her knee made Tevi look
down. Verron had wandered around to her side of the wagon. "We'll leave Marith
to it. She always works best on her own." He raised his voice. "I'm
going to show Tevi around the market. You can meet us at the Three Barrels when
you're finished. I'll reserve a couple of rooms."
"That'll be fine." Marith
called back, already preoccupied with the business of barter. She spared no more
attention as Tevi and Verron left the courtyard, accompanied by the two boys.
* * * * * *
Marith joined them an hour or
so later. They were sitting on a bench outside the inn, overlooking a small square.
Around the central fountain, children were playing and a few servants stood gossiping.
Occasional porters trundled across pushing a handcart or with a stack of baskets
balanced on their heads. In the distance the Aldrak Mountains raised their snow-covered
peaks against a clear blue sky.
"How did it go with Yarle?"
Verron asked.
"Like a lamb to the slaughter.
I almost felt sorry taking the money off him. He'll never be in business by the
time we get back next year. He's got as much talent for bargaining as I have for
flying."
"Mother's feeling guilty.
She must have got the shirt off his back." Kimal said with a broad grin.
"I felt I was taking advantage
of his inexperience."
"You could have given him
an easy deal." Kimal suggested mischievously.
"We're not in business for
charity. If I don't get his money someone else will. But it's a shame - I respected
his mother." Marith shook her head slowly and sighed. "Are you ready
to come and see to the wagons?"
Verron answered by standing and
linking his arm through his partner's. Tevi and the two boys followed behind.
While she walked, Tevi considered what had been said about Yarle. Her island-born
morality was appalled at the thought of a young man, helpless and alone, being
cheated out of his money - not that Marith was dishonest, but the experienced
trader clearly had an unfair advantage.
Tevi turned to Kimal. "Is
there no one to help Yarle? Doesn't he belong to a guild or something?"
"You don't get guilds here
- not in the same way as in the Protectorate. Anyway, from what mama said, I can't
see a guild lending him money." Kimal replied.
"He wouldn't need to borrow
money, he's got his mother's." Tevi pointed out.
"But in the Protectorate
he wouldn't have inherited the money."
"Why not?"
"Because, strictly speaking,
it wouldn't have been hers in the first place."
"Who would it belong to?
The Coven?"
"No, the guild, of course."
Kimal's tone implied that the answer was obvious.
"Your parents have got money...
haven't they?" Tevi's voice betrayed her confusion.
"Not really. When they finished
their apprenticeship the guild licensed them and gave them their advance to set
up in business. They could do what they liked with the money, within reason, though
they have to pay tithes to the guild and taxes to the Coven. But when they die
the guild will take everything back." Kimal explained.
"You and Derry won't get
to share it?" Tevi asked in surprise.
"No."
The prospect clearly did not bother
Kimal in the slightest, but Tevi had some trouble coming to terms with the idea.
The islander in her was not bothered by the thought of losing money as much as
the complete disregard for family and inheritance. She remembered being told that
there were no hereditary leaders in the Protectorate.
Kimal carried on talking. "Hopefully,
we'll be in guilds for ourselves, long before our parent die. I mean, it must
be awful, having to wait until your parents peg-it before you can start your own
career."
"Don't your parents want
you to take over their business from them?" Tevi asked.
"Why should they?" Kimal
seemed nearly as confused as Tevi. "We might not want to be traders."
"You told me that you did."
"I want to be a mercenary."
Derry cut in loudly.
Kimal raised his voice to drown
out his brother. "True, but when I'm ready I can get my own advance from
the guild, if they think I'm good enough."
"And if you're not good enough?"
Tevi asked.
"Then there'd be no point
in my parents giving me their business, would there?" Kimal said reasonably.
"It makes sense. Protectorate traders always come out best, 'cause we don't
let fools make a mess of things just because of who their parents were."
Tevi did not answer. It seemed
a strange way to organise things but, thinking of her own experience, how much
simpler it would have been if her family had simply accepted that she was not
cut out to be queen, and had chosen someone more suited for the job - such as
Laff. The corners of her mouth turned down in a bitter grimace as she realised
that this was exactly what they had done.
The two wagons were waiting in
the courtyard. Yarle watched sullenly as Tevi unloaded the cargo. The others helped
with lighter items and soon the party was ready to depart. Yarle had counted the
load into his storeroom, but seemed unsure of what to do next. He still had not
shaved. To Tevi's eyes, it made him seem even more pathetically vulnerable. She
could not restrain herself from trying to help him.
"Is everything all right?"
she asked gently.
"Why shouldn't it be?"
"It's a lot of responsibility,
running a business."
Yarle looked her up and down defiantly.
"I can cope."
"Isn't there someone who
can help you, a cousin or an aunt? People might take advantage of a young man
on his own."
"I don't need help."
A surly note entered Yarle's voice.
"But it's not fair to expect
you to run your own finances and things like that."
"I'm not an idiot."
"I wasn't saying you were,
I just think you could do with a woman to look after you. It's too much to expect
a boy to take care of himself."
"What the hell do you think
I am? A child or something? I'm probably older than you."
"Yes, but..." Tevi managed
to stop herself before she finished the sentence; it's not the same for a woman.
It was the island's way of thinking that, rightly or wrongly, would not be understood
on the mainland. She drew a deep breath and tried to juggle her head and forget
she was talking to a man. "It's just... Losing your mother must have been
a shock and... I thought you might need advice, or..."
"I don't need anyone's advice."
Yarle snarled the words. He marched into his storeroom, slamming the door behind
him in Tevi's face. She glanced over her shoulder at the others, who had been
listening to the exchange.
"I didn't mean to insult
him."
Verron's face held a slightly
perplexed frown. "If you don't mind me saying so, you sometimes seem to have
a problem taking men seriously."
Tevi sighed and raised her eyes
to the sky. "I know, but I'm working on it - believe me, I'm working on it."
* * * * * *
The line of wagons rolled out
of Scathberg, accompanied by the crunching of stones, the shouts of riders and
the crack of whips. Hired guards and scouts flanked the caravan as outriders.
Tevi was halfway down the line, with the reins in her hands and Verron beside
her, offering the occasional word of advice.
Hills rose on either side, striped
with row upon row of grapevines - the source of the famed red Scathberg wine.
Between the neatly trained lines, the ground was dry and bare, except for tufts
of thin, yellow grass. Scattered grey-stone farmhouses dotted the vineyards. High
above, the sun shone brightly through fine wisps of cirrus cloud. A light morning
breeze carried dust, stirred up by the hooves of horses ahead.
"How far will we go with
these people?" Tevi asked.
"Through the desert as far
as Kradja." Verron replied. "Then we'll join another caravan for the
journey to Gu'lith and on to the river port of Limori."
"Do you travel with groups
for protection?"
"Partly. It's also a way
to share resources. The desert is unpredictable; landmarks shift from one season
to the next. If we were on our own and we missed a water hole it could be fatal.
The nomads are usually friendly, but you can't rely on them coming to your rescue."
"How long 'till we get to
Kradja?"
"Maybe twenty-three days,
twenty-five at most." Verron estimated.
"Kimal said there's an enormous
temple there."
"There certainly is."
Verron agreed.
"We had a shrine in the middle
of the village I came from, I've been trying to imagine it scaled up, but I guess
the temple won't be quite like that." Tevi said thoughtfully.
"I doubt it - unless your
people confuse brooding with meditation, and have a liking for cryptic images
and overblown dramatics." Verron smiled as he spoke.
Tevi matched his grin and flicked
the reins to encourage the horses to keep up with those in front. Behind them,
the walls of Scathberg shrank into the distance and soon were lost among the farmlands.
* * * * * *
As they moved southwards the landscape
became ever more arid. Trees and bushes changed to waxy-leafed, drought-resistant
varieties. On the nineteenth day out of Scathberg, they reached the edge of a
plateau. An eroded escarpment overlooked a featureless plain of dust and rock
stretching off until it met a cloudless turquoise sky. Isolated cacti and long-thorned
shrubs were the only things growing on the parched landscape.
That night they pitched camp in
a stony gully where clumps of green plants revealed the presence of underground
water. This was confirmed once they swept the wind-blown gravel from the cistern
cover. One of the guides told Tevi that, during the autumn rains, the gully was
a riverbed. It was strange to think of water flowing through this dry land. The
sun sank low and long shadows covered the campsite. After the heat of the day,
the wind was chill as it whispered across the desert, and sucked heat from everything
it touched.
When the evening meal was over,
Tevi took a thick cloak and left the fireside. From the top of the gully, she
watched the sunset turn the sky to fire. The heavens flamed first gold, then blazed
with fierce red that smouldered to solemn purple and finally blackness, strewn
with the white sparks of stars. Tevi stared across the barren land in awe at the
harsh, inhuman beauty. She returned to the camp with tears in her eyes. She had
not wanted to leave Storenseg, and wished with all her heart she could go back,
yet it would have been an unbearable loss to have lived her life without ever
seeing a desert sunset.
Five days later they reached the
oasis town of Kradja, a sprawling mass of flat-topped houses built of mud bricks,
the same colour as the landscape. The town seemed to be growing from the desert.
Without transition, the rough trail became a dusty street, crowded with workers,
children, merchants and servants. Robed nomads led strings of improbable gangling
beasts, taller than a horse, with sinuous necks and a wobbling lump on their backs.
"Camels." Verron told
her, seeing Tevi's eyes follow the animals in amazement. The air was full of the
sounds of shouting, laughing, hammering and the jingle of horse harness.
Closer to the centre of town the
walls became higher, blank except for wide gateways guarded by sentries with barbed
pikes. Most were closed, but through the open ones Tevi caught glimpses of gardens,
with surprising greenery, and rich in lavish blooms. The scent of flowers mixed
with the dust and sweat of the street. Tevi raised her eyes. Above the walls,
the soaring crowns of palms pierced the blue sky. Towering over all was the green
copper dome of the temple.
* * * * * *
Later that afternoon she stood
in the cavernous interior. The huge echoing void was filed with hushed whispers.
Light from a ring of windows filtered down through a haze of incense. In the gloom
huddled groups of chanting priests, wild-eyed prophets and praying supplicants.
Alcoves held grotesque statues of gods. Some idols were bedecked with garlands
of fruit and flowers. Before the more warlike were bloodstained altars.
"Impressive, isn't it?"
Kimal observed.
"I should say so. Is this
considered a very holy place?" Tevi whispered in reply.
"There's a legend among the
locals that this is a very auspicious spot to make money out of visitors. For
a price they'll tell your future or bless anything you feel needs blessing."
"Are the prophecies accurate?"
Tevi asked.
"If you've got money to waste
you could find out."
The question immediately rose
in Tevi's mind, Will I ever return to Storenseg? But she knew it was pointless,
and required no skilled oracle to divine the answer.
A fresh burst of chanting began
nearby, voices rose and fell in wavering cadences. Tevi watched as a robed priest
threw fistfuls of incense into a crucible, while the body of an entranced seer
swayed and shuddered. The oracle's eyes were glazed but, as Tevi looked, they
seemed to fasten on her and the head wobbled up and down, as if nodding - as if
an answer.
For a second Tevi's breath caught
in her throat. Then she sighed and dismissed the taunting fantasy. The oracle
drooped, and then twitched into a shuffling, circular dance. The smell of incense
became overpowering and Tevi and Kimal moved away, coughing. They squeezed through
the crowds blocking the main entrance. Outside was bright and refreshing after
the scented darkness, although the heat hit them like a blow.
The temple was set in the midst
of a garden. Fountains splashed into geometrically shaped pools of dark-green
water. Birds sung from rooftops; the sound floating lazily on the hot afternoon
air.
"What gods do the people
in the Protectorate worship?" Tevi asked.
"It varies. A lot of places
have their own local deities."
"Are there no temples like
this?"
Kimal shook his head. "Oh
no. It's all very unorganised and informal."
"Who do the sorcerers worship?"
"No one in particular, although
some of them have very elaborate ideas about the meaning of life and how we all
came to be here." Kimal's tone was, as ever, irreverent.
"On the islands we worship
Rangir, goddess of the sea, and her sisters."
"I shouldn't think anyone
would mind if you want to keep practising your faith. But your goddess is almost
certainly no more than the folk memory of an ancient sorcerer - that's what most
turn out to be."
"You sound as if you don't
believe in any of them." Tevi was not sure if she did either.
"Only when I'm frightened.
Most of the time I need proof - and there isn't any." Kimal sounded quite
definite.
"Couldn't the sorcerers find
out?"
"Some have tried and got
nowhere. And they're the experts in unseen powers. If sorcerers can't find the
smallest scrap of information, it's a bit silly for any ordinary mortal, like
the priests in there, to claim they know the gods' names, how they made the world,
what songs they'd like sung in their honour, or which style of head-dress they
normally wear."
Tevi smiled at his light-hearted
tone. "Still, it's a very impressive temple."
"Oh yes, and their religion
is probably no more wrong than anyone else's."
Verron, Marith and Derry were
waiting at the appointed rendezvous. Together, the five of them left the temple
garden and wandered through the marketplace, full of noise and the tang of strange
spices. The sight of a row of camels caught Tevi attention.
The rubbery mouths moved in continuous
chewing and, to judge from the peeling fur, they were all in the middle of a fairly
major moult. Tevi reached out to touch a shaggy haunch, but stopped as a nomad
spotted her and jabbered harshly. She frowned. The nomad repeated a string of
similar, incomprehensible syllables.
"Pardon, I didn't catch that."
Tevi said politely.
"I only know a few words
of their language, but I think you were being warned that the camels bite."
Marith said at her shoulder.
"Their language?" Tevi
asked, confused.
"Yes. Not everyone speaks
the same language as us."
"There's more than one language?"
Tevi was dumbfounded. The idea had never occurred to her before. It felt as if
it should be impossible, although, once she stopped to consider it, she could
think of no valid reason why.
Verron laughed at the surprise
on Tevi's face. "There are dozens of languages, maybe even hundreds. All
the lands around the Middle Seas have a common tongue, which is due to a sorcerer
who enforced it as an experiment 600 hundred years ago. I think he had some naive
idea that if everyone understood each other there'd be no conflict. Of course
all that happened was everyone could argue much more effectively." Verron
explained dryly. It was easy to tell where Kimal got his ironic outlook on life.
"How do people with different
languages communicate?" Tevi persisted.
"With great difficulty -
although I think Marith can haggle in every language in existence."
Marith laughed, "It's not
me, it's money that can talk any language."
Kimal joined the discussion. "Even
where languages start out the same they drift apart over the centuries. The Coven
keeps the Protectorate constant, but you can find some strange accents from time
to time - like yours. Another few hundred years of isolation and no one on the
mainland will be able to understand a word you islanders say." He spoke the
last sentence in a fair imitation of Tevi's soft drawl, and then he elbowed her
lightly in the ribs.
The playful scuffle that followed
ended quickly as Tevi caught Kimal around the waist, flipped him over and effortlessly
held him upside-down by his ankles. Kimal yelped, his arms flailing and hair brushing
the ground.
"I think, my son, the moral
is, that if ever you meet a woman with an accent like Tevi's you should treat
her with some respect." Marith said laughing.
Tevi returned the boy to his feet
and they continued the relaxed stroll through the streets of Kradja. Yet, Tevi
could not help thinking that there was little chance of Kimal meeting anyone else
with her accent - she alone was exiled forever.
* * * * * *
The trader's route went from town
to town, with the value of their merchandise growing steadily. Autumn was fast
approaching as they returned north. A last caravan took them to the city of Villenes,
within sight of where the Aldracks trailed away into the Merlieu hills. On the
other side was Serac - and the Protectorate.
A genuine affection had grown
between Tevi and the traders. Kimal and Derry treated her like an older sister,
Verron and Marith like a trusted niece. She felt more accepted than had ever been
the case with her own family, although there were things about herself she dare
not reveal. Tevi was also aware she could not stay with them forever. She would
have to find a way to make her own living.
While Verron and Marith completed
arrangements for the last stages of the journey, Tevi wandered through the town
in the company of the two boys. The shops were piled high with clothes and rolls
of material. Villenes was famous for its textiles. As they paused at a stall,
the owner rushed over, beaming, and extracted a crimson shirt from the nearest
pile. The item was held up against Tevi who shook her head, somewhat abashed.
On the islands bright colours, particularly reds, were reserved for men, while
women wore neutral tones. It took little to imagine the comments if her kin saw
her wearing anything the colour of the shirt. However, there was no chance of
them seeing her again, and trying to fit in had never stopped them talking anyway.
In a sudden mood of defiance, Tevi commenced bartering and shortly after walked
away, carrying the shirt. She felt like a naughty child.
The traders were lodging with
a friend - someone they had once travelled with, and shared dangers and difficult
times. Tevi was assured the woman had been a little wild in her youth, although
she was now a highly respectable merchant. Her home was a rambling building, set
among gardens leading down to the river. At the door Tevi and the boys were greeted
by servants, who took their parcels and offered the traditional soft slippers.
They found Marith in the central courtyard, surrounded by potted ferns. She was
talking to two unfamiliar men.
One was about thirty, strongly
muscled all the way up to his bull-like neck. Topping it was a round, good-natured
face. His companion was older, taller and leaner, with weathered skin and close-cropped
grey hair. Both men were wearing mail-reinforced leather jackets. Swords hung
at their sides. On the backs of their hands were tattooed red and gold crossed
swords - the mark of the Protectorate guild of Mercenary Warriors.
The men glanced around as Tevi
and the two boys approached. Marith performed the introductions. "These are
my two sons, Kimal and Derry, and this is a friend of ours, Tevi." She gestured
to the mercenaries. "This is Cade," the younger of the two men nodded,
"and this is Alentris. They'll be escorting us to Serac."
Tevi was aware that both men's
eyes had fastened on the sword hanging her side.
"Do you know how to use that?"
the mercenary called Alentris asked.
"A little." Tevi said,
diffidently.
Derry piped in. "We met Tevi
in Torhafn when she rescued mama and papa from a gang of footpads."
Both mercenaries looked satisfied.
Evidently, their concern was solely with assessing the defensive capability of
the party. Only Tevi caught the look of relief that flitted across Marith's face.
"It never hurts to have..."
Alentris was interrupted by Derry tugging on his jerkin,
"I'm going to be a mercenary
when I'm older." Derry's defiant tone made the adults laugh.
Cade grinned at Marith. "Don't
worry. They grow out of it - most of them."
* * * * * *
The road from Villenes to Serac
led over a dusty plain of low-lying thorny shrubs and wind-blown yellow grass.
After travelling so far in large caravans, it was strange to be on their own again.
The monotony of the landscape also subdued the traders. Only the two mercenaries
were unaffected, they rode ahead of the wagons, swapping anecdotes and laughing.
On the third day, the terrain
began to rise. That night they pitched camp beside a weathered outcrop of rock
crowning the top of a low hill. The sloping ground was sparsely covered with the
same coarse bushes found in the lowlands, but at the bottom was a small stream.
The banks supported the first real patch of greenery they had seen since leaving
the irrigated fields surrounding Villenes.
While the others arranged the
campsite, Tevi and Cade went down the slope to replenish their supply of water.
In the wet mud was the imprint of a single row of footsteps. The pair examined
the track in silence.
Cade spoke first. "We're
on a reasonably well used route..."
"We haven't seen a sign of
anyone all day and they're very fresh." Tevi said.
Cade studied their surroundings
thoughtfully. There was no other trace of human activity. He shrugged and bent
down to fill the water container, "It's probably a fur trapper, or goatherd."
"You could be right."
Tevi agreed, a little uncertainly.
"And it should help focus
the thoughts of whoever's on watch tonight."
Back at the camp, the news was
greeted without undue alarm; there were too many legitimate reasons for someone's
presence in the area. After the evening meal Derry was put to bed inside one of
the wagons and Alentris sat first watch on top of the rocks. Leaving the lowlands
had lifted the trader's spirits. The lighter mood kept the group sitting around
the campfire, talking, well past the time when they would normally have gone to
sleep.
Marith was affecting a comic burlesque
of indignation. She tapped the ground with a forefinger and demanded. "Okay.
Who's pinched the last of the cinnamon biscuits?"
"Would I do a thing like
that?" Cade asked, going along with the game and pretending to sound hurt.
"From the way you wolfed
down the rest of them, I'd say it's more than likely."
"But the guild guarantees
my honesty." Cade said, spreading his hands in appeal.
"So we'll put in a claim."
Verron laughed. "I can just
imagine the response if I submit a claim for one cinnamon biscuit."
"Three!" Marith corrected,
mock-righteously.
"The honour of the guild
demands that I confess." Alentris's voice drifted down from the rocks, just
above their heads, as he joined in the performance. "It was I who took the
biscuits, but if you forbear to submit your claim then I will more than make good
the loss when we get to Serac."
"You see Marith, I told you
it pays to hire mercenaries with two swords." Verron said. He caught sight
of Tevi's puzzled expression. "I was referring to their tattoos. Junior mercenaries
only have a single sword on their hands. It's not until they've proved their trustworthiness
that the guild gives them the second, crossed sword. After that the guild guarantees
to refund any losses if they prove dishonest."
"Which is why they feel they
can charge such an exorbitant fee." Marith concluded
"We're excellent value for
money." Cade spoke with heavy irony.
"What stops thieves from
tattooing their hands to pass themself off?" Tevi asked.
"We do." Alentris said.
"If ever you're in Dresinton you can see the remains of a couple that tried
it."
Cade grinned up at his colleague.
"Are the skulls still there then?" he asked in a conversational tone
of voice.
"Oh yes, they're wedged in
tight, they'll never..." Alentris's voice stopped abruptly. Something about
the arrested speech drew all eyes to him in an instant. His attention was fixed
on the bushes at the bottom of the hill. He then gestured sharply. Cade scuttled
to the side of one of the wagons and stared down the slope. There was silence
around the campfire.
"By the bushes."
"I see them." The two
mercenaries spoke in taunt whispers.
Without a word Marith, leaned
forward and dowsed the fire by emptying one of the flasks over it. The water hissed
furiously for a second. Suddenly it was very dark. The new moon was low in the
sky, lighting the hillside obliquely but not touching the campsite in the shadow
of the rocks. Alentris scrambled down from his lookout point. The faint scuffing
of his feet was the only sound that could be heard.
The traders slipped into a wagon.
Verron reappeared almost immediately, carrying two crossbows. Tevi's mouth went
dry as she reached back to her scabbard. She drew her sword and joined the two
mercenaries, standing shielded by the wagons but with a clear view down the hillside.
Tevi's eyes ached as they stared into the gully, slowing adjusting to the dark.
Nothing was moving below.
Marith's voice was heard, whispering
quietly to Derry, before she emerged and tiptoed over to take the second crossbow
from Verron. There was a tap on Tevi's shoulder. She looked back to see Kimal
holding up her hunting bow, with an unspoken request on his face. She nodded her
consent and Kimal strung the bow, slung the quiver of arrows over his shoulder
and went to stand by his parents. There was a brief period of whispering and then
the traders took up positions in the shelter of the wagons.
Alentris and Cade were conferring
quietly. "About a dozen of them, do you think?"
"Maybe less."
Tevi bit her lip and asked, "So
what now?"
Alentris spoke grimly. "If
they've got any sense they'll realise we've spotted them and they'll give up and
go away." At that instant, there was a shout from the bottom of the hill
and nine figures burst from the undergrowth. "Damn. They're idiots."
Cade caught hold of Tevi's arm
and hissed urgently. "There may be more in the bushes with bows. Stay back
until this lot are close enough to obscure you from their line of sight."
Tevi nodded to show she'd understood.
The bandits continued their charge
up the hill. To Tevi's eyes, it seemed as if they were running in slow motion.
From the wagons came a succession of twangs as the traders started shooting. One
of the advancing figures fell, with hands clasped against a thigh. Then, as the
first of the attackers got to within twenty yards of the wagons, Alentris shouted
"Right!" and charged forward. Cade was close behind. Tevi took a deep
breath and leapt down the hill.
The nearest bandit to her took
a defensive stance, planting both feet firmly on the ground. With no attempt at
subtlety, Tevi swung her sword down hard. Her opponent's blade rose to make the
block, but the bandit was completely unprepared for the force of Tevi's blow.
The attempted defence was knocked aside while Tevi's sword was barely deflected.
The sharp edge sliced deeply into flesh. With a cry, the wounded bandit staggered
backwards, then slipped and stumbled away down the slope.
The momentum of her charge carried
Tevi some way after her foe, until she managed to regain her footing and skidded
to a halt. Before she had time to turn, Tevi heard footsteps behind her. In her
head, she heard Blaze's voice screaming "DUCK". By instinct,
she obeyed, turning as she dropped. One of her knees brushed the ground as a blade
whistled harmlessly over her head. Directly in front of Tevi's face was a pair
of legs. Tevi's hand tightened on the hilt as she drove her sword up, in a quick,
determined trust. The point entered just below her assailant's breastbone.
Only then did she look up. It
was a young man. Surprise on his face turned slowly to horror. His sword slipped
from his grasp as his hands twitched futilely towards his chest and then stopped.
Slowly he keeled forward. Tevi raised her hand to stop him from landing on top
of her. The bandit's body hit the ground with a soft, dull, thump.
Tevi wrenched her sword free,
then stood and looked around. Ten yards away Cade was hard pressed in combat against
three attackers. The nearest bandit did not even turn as Tevi ran towards them.
Again, her sword swung down in an arc, hitting the outlaw on the joint between
shoulder and neck. The force of the blow almost severed the head. The bandit collapsed
with a sharp guttural sigh - a sound which rooted the other two outlaws to the
ground. Cade lashed out with his sword, severing the weapon, and possibly a few
fingers, from one of the stunned bandits. Suddenly the battle was over. The two
turned and fled, followed by their surviving allies.
"Quick! Back to cover."
Cade cried.
They dashed up the hillside and
skidded to a stop behind the wagons. In a second Alentris joined them. The older
mercenary ran his hand through his cropped hair, then slumped into a crouch, elbows
on his knees, breathing deeply.
"Are you all right?"
Cade asked.
"Not a scratch. They were
amateurs. But I'm getting too old for this game." Alentris said between gasps.
"How about you, Tevi?"
"Oh, I'm fine." Yet
as she spoke, she was aware that the right side of her face felt wet and sticky.
Cade also noticed and reached
over to wipe her cheek gently. He rubbed his fingers together and looked concerned.
"That's a lot of blood."
Alentris looked up. "Is it
yours?" he asked.
In confusion, Tevi search her
memory, and saw again the young man crumpling above her, blood gushing from his
chest. "No. It's not."
Alentris nodded and said, "Good.
That's the important thing."
* * * * * *
The crescent moon had climbed
high into the sky. Tevi sat on the rocks and stared at it. She had volunteered
for first watch duty, knowing she could not sleep. Every time she closed her eyes
she saw the young bandit's expression, his eyes and mouth wide open with astonishment
and fear. Her second victim did not upset her quite so much - she had not seen
the face, did not even know if it was a man or a woman. However, each time she
relived the sight of the first, dying bandit he looked more like Sparrow.
There was a scrabbling sound from
below and Cade's head appeared over the edge of the rocks. He climbed up to sit
beside her and offered a mug of hot soup. Tevi took it with a mumbled word of
thanks and sipped in silence. Cade shuffled back into a comfy position, leaning
against a rock.
Cade let her finish the soup before
he spoke. "Was that the first time you've killed someone?"
Tevi nodded, not trusting her
voice.
"You know you had no choice?"
Cade said after a short pause.
Again Tevi nodded in silence.
"No. I suppose it doesn't
help much." Cade's nose wrinkled. "Didn't help a great deal when someone
first said it to me."
"But it didn't put you off
becoming a mercenary?" Tevi's voice cracked as she spoke.
"It made me think long and
hard for about a month. Still does, sometimes."
"Will tonight give you much
to think about?"
"No. I guess it gets easier
after a while. And tonight was simple - it was us or them. A cliché, but
true."
Tevi put down the empty mug and
wrapped her arms around her raised knees. Her voice was muffled as she spoke,
"I keep wondering what he was like; what his name was."
"That's a bad game to start
playing." Cade said softly.
"I keep thinking someone
must have cared for him. Someone said goodbye to him as he went out tonight. They'll
never see him again. For the rest of their life that person will hate me for what
I did tonight, without even knowing who I am." To her dismay Tevi realised
tears were rolling down her face. "He'll have parents who fed him, washed
him, told him stories, watched him grow, dreamed of grandchildren, and now all
that is gone."
"Then they shouldn't have
raised him to be a thief and a murderer. Believe me, you can't start tearing yourself
up like this. At least tonight makes some sort of sense - you were saving the
lives of your friends. As a hired sword, I've been in some nasty brawls."
Cade's voice grew bitter. "At the end, you don't know what it was about,
or what was gained, or where the right and wrong of it lay. You just wake up in
the morning, spare a thought for those who can't, and thank whatever god watches
over you."
Tevi's head sunk onto her folded
arms. Cade slid over and put his arm around her shoulder. He patted her gently.
"Go on. Get some sleep. I'll sit watch."
"I can't sleep." Tevi
said.
"You probably can, I put
a whole spoonful of Marith's best sleeping draught in your soup."
Even as Cade spoke the effects
of the drug hit Tevi. The stars spun as a wave of drowsiness washed over her.
Without another word, Tevi slithered across to the edge of the rock and accepted
Cade's offered hand to help her down. She stumbled over to where her blanket lay
beside the campfire and was asleep before her head touched the ground.
* * * * * *
In the morning light the wreckage
of the fight lay visible on the slope. Apart from splashed blood, dropped weapons
and uprooted bushes, four of the attackers lay dead on the ground. As well as
the two Tevi had slain, there was a woman with a crossbow bolt in her throat,
and a man cut open by Alentris. Their silent presence unsettled the travellers.
People moved quietly about their tasks, preparing to depart as soon as possible.
Even Derry was subdued.
After breakfast Tevi walked down
to the young man she had killed. Seen clearly in daylight he looked nothing like
Sparrow. She stood staring at him blankly for a long while, until a call from
the top of the hill roused her.
"Hey, Tevi. We're ready to
go."
"Aren't we going to bury
them or something?" Tevi shouted back.
"Haven't got the time, or
the inclination. If their friends are concerned they can come back and get them
once we've gone." Alentris shouted down.
"And if not?"
"Then they'll make some little,
furry animals very happy."
Tevi took a last long look around
the scene, as if trying to impress it on her memory, then turned and trotted up
the hill to join the wagons.
Continued in Chapter 6
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