All she could do was wait. With every male voice that spoke, she tensed up, straining to hear. Was that a guard, poking around?
Female voices made her heart pound. Somehow she was sure that Juquila would turn up and expose her. The sack of grain nearest her face crackled and shifted. Someone must be sitting on it. Judging by the giggles, Tereka guessed Inzhu.
An impatient tenor voice spoke right near her head. “Papers, if you please.”
Tereka held her breath. Tirk, doing the final inspection.
Papers crackled. “Fifty sacks of grain, twenty boxes of pickled beets. Are you sure that’s all?”
More than one girl burst into giggles. “Of course we’re sure, we loaded the wagon ourselves.” Kaija managed to sound indignant even while laughing.
“Inzhu, is he a real clerk? He’s awfully nice looking.” Zarina’s comment prompted more laughter. “Are you married?”
Tereka grinned. These girls were good at this game.
Her grin died when she heard Tirk’s reply. “I could have you unload the wagon and re-inventory everything.” There was no mistaking the embarrassment and anger in Tirk’s voice. He could force them to do it. How would they keep him from seeing her?
Yeroblat’s calm voice broke through the girls’ chatter. “If you please, I apologize for my girls. They’re old enough to know better than to disrespect clerks in the middle of their duties.” The crack of a whip against the side of the wagon made Tereka jump. “Go on home, all of you. I’ve no more need of you today.”
Five voices made their farewells to Yeroblat. Then silence.
Too many heartbeats passed for Tereka’s comfort before Tirk responded. “It all seems to be in order. Except your family.” He whistled, giving the signal that the caravan could leave.
A moment later the third horn sounded, and the caravan set off. Tereka relaxed her tense muscles. Now if they could just pass through the city gates. She closed her eyes, trying to imagine where they were. The wagon bumped over the uneven pavement and Tereka was jostled against the front of the wagon. They must have reached the place with the missing stone across from the monument.
The bumpy ride knocked her arm hard against her ribs. She braced herself for a shock of pain. It took a few heartbeats before she realized there wouldn’t be one. That was some salve her da had used. She’d have to ask him where he got it, again.
Tereka counted the steps of the horses. Why had Yeroblat chosen the last position in line? Several guardsmen rode just behind. What if they suspected Yeroblat was carrying more than grain and beets?
The motion of the wagon became smoother. They’d reached the gates. Tereka held her breath. No one shouted for them to stop. She only released her breath when she heard the crunch of wagon wheels on gravel, then the dull thud of horses’ hoofs on a dirt road. She’d made it out of Trofmose.
Her tight muscles relaxed, and she took a few deep breaths. In an instant she instantly regretted them. Dust from the straw tickled her nose. She screwed up her face and held her nose. One sneeze could ruin everything. She suddenly realized what a risk Yeroblat had taken. He must really be grateful to Da, if he’d help in this way. She pressed a fold of her borrowed cloak to her mouth and nose.
Several heartbeats passed, and the tingles in her nose abated. She lay back and tried to let the motion of the wagon calm her. She had no idea how long she’d be a helpless stowaway in Yerbolat’s wagon.
20
The slow plodding cadence of the horses’ hoofs did nothing to soothe Tereka’s tension. She wished she could fall asleep and wake up when they arrived at the campsite for the night. Put an end to this endless, helpless waiting. Under cover of the dark, she’d be able to clamber free of her hiding place and stretch her muscles. Not to mention attend to her need for a few moments of privacy behind the nearest bush.
She craned her neck, trying to see some shadows that might tell her how much time had passed. The best she could reckon was that they’d barely traveled a mile from Trofmose. She puffed her cheeks out and released the air slowly. Patience. Too bad patience was something she’d never had in large supply.
The rain seemed to have tapered off, leaving the air moist and warm. A sticky feeling made Tereka realize the day would turn hot. Now she regretted the heavy cloaks.
“Hey, old man, are you asleep? Pick up the pace.”
Tereka nearly stopped breathing at the guardsman’s shout. Her heart skipped a beat when Yeroblat spoke. “Whoa. Easy now.” The wagon drew to a stop. What was Yeroblat doing? She groped for the knife she kept in her boot, drawing comfort from the chilly smoothness of its handle.
“If you please, I think one of my horses has gone lame.” The wagon shifted and creaked. Yeroblat must have climbed down.
A few mutters and curses drifted to Tereka.
“Well? Can you go on?”
“Nope, I’m afraid not. The tendon’s inflamed.” There was a pause. “I’d hate to go on and ruin her. Nothing for it but to go back.”
Go back? After she’d just escaped? Her eyes widened.
“Do you need an escort?” The guard sounded eager to go back.
“No, no need of that,” Yeroblat replied. “We’re not far from town. Hardly likely bandits would come this close.”
“Are you sure?” Now Tereka was convinced the guard wanted to return. Her pulse throbbed in her head and she chewed the inside of her cheek. She couldn’t go back. She’d be discovered, and the ephor would be most displeased she’d been caught breaking one of the rules. Juquila, on the other hand, would surely be delighted.
Yeroblat spoke more loudly. “No, thank you. You all go on. Please. I’ll be fine.”
“Come on then,” said a different guard. “We have a caravan to protect, in case you’ve forgotten.” Then to Yeroblat, “Peace and safety to you.”
Tereka held her breath as the four guards passed by. She listened intently to the creak of their leathers and the thud of their horses’ hoofs. She only exhaled when she could no longer hear them.
Yeroblat clicked his tongue. “Up now.” The wagon jerked into motion and made a slow turn.
They were going back. Why? Had Yeroblat changed his mind? Or maybe Da was wrong to trust him? She tugged on the hair on the back of her head. Should she stay under the seat? She pushed against one of the sacks. It didn’t budge. She was trapped. She’d have to wait to be freed.
The wagon shifted, dipping to one side then righting itself. The wagon seat creaked as Yeroblat settled on it again. After another click of his tongue, the horses set off at a slow walk. What was Yeroblat up to? Tereka was about to demand an explanation when the sound of galloping hoofs beat against her ears. She stifled a gasp. Good thing she’d stayed hidden under the seat. From the sound, she thought two riders approached. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to swallow the tightness in her throat. Her fingers tightened around the handle of the knife and she touched her side where she kept her throwing knives.
The sound drew closer. The hoofbeats slowed, then stopped. “Peace and safety. Got any cargo for me?”
Da. She’d never been so relieved to hear his voice. Her held breath escaped her mouth and she sagged against the straw under her.
Yeroblat chuckled. “Sure do, if she decides she wants to go with you.”
“I do!” Tereka didn’t want to spend one more moment trapped behind the grain. “Can someone help me out?”
“What, you don’t want to stay there? And I thought you liked riding with me.”
“I think she prefers my company, if you don’t mind,” Da said. “Here, hold the reins, will you?” The wagon shifted again as Da climbed into it. He removed enough sacks for Tereka to crawl out. She blinked in the sunlight, then handed the bundle with their bows to Da. She retrieved their packs, tossed them over the grain, then climbed out herself.
Da wrapped his arms around her. “I hope it wasn’t too bad a ride for you.”
“I nearly wet myself when Yeroblat turned around. Why didn’t you tell me
that part of the plan?”
“I didn’t?” He winced. “Oh, I’m sorry.”
Tereka pressed her lips together. “It’s fine. Now what?”
“Now we leave our friend Yeroblat to take his lame horse home.”
He jumped from the wagon to help Tereka down and she realized he’d brought two horses, his own Khurdan and her bay mare Aveh. The fastest two they owned. He took the reins from Yeroblat. “Thank you, a thousand times, I thank you. I am in your debt.”
“That’s a nice change. You can pay me in honey.”
“Of course.”
After Tereka removed both cloaks, she folded the gray one and placed it under the wagon’s seat. Then she pulled the gray dress off and laid it next to the cloak. As she stuffed her brown cloak into her pack, she smiled at Yeroblat. “Thank you, your wife, and all your daughters.”
Yeroblat waved and clicked his tongue. “Go on, now.” As his horses started moving, he looked over his shoulder. “Peace and safety. You’re going to need them.”
Tereka turned to Da. “Now where?”
He mounted his horse. “Let’s talk as we ride, shall we?” He waited for her to mount and walk her horse next to his in the direction of Gishin. “We ride hard, so we can get near Gishin tonight. We’ll camp outside town. In the morning, I’ll take the horses to the stable. You go to the market and get something to eat, food you can carry.” He rubbed his chin. “Don’t stop to eat in town or even talk to anyone. I’ll meet you on the north side of town and we’ll go from there.”
To the barbaric Riskers.
21
The next morning, Tereka strolled past Gishin’s monument to Safety and out of the town’s main gate, putting on a nonchalance she didn’t feel. So far, Da’s plan had worked. They had ridden side paths that skirted the rye and cabbage fields surrounding Trofmose until they were sure they had passed the caravan. Then they took to the road.
Da insisted they not push the horses too hard, saying it would be wise for them to have something left if they needed it. Tereka knew he meant in case they had to flee from bandits.
But no bandits had troubled them, and they spent a quiet evening camped near the beet field west of Gishin. Even the weather was favorable, sparing them the cold rain that often fell that time of year.
She’d taken the opportunity to fill him in on her conversation with Tirk. Even in the flickering light of the campfire, she could see the flush spread over his face when she told him Groa said he’d not supported her or his boys.
He ground the heels of his hands into his eyes. “I usually would find her in the market and give her money then. That’s when we’d agree on when I could see the boys.” He let out a huff. “That’s what I get for trying to not argue with her in front of them.” He stood up and walked off, muttering to himself. Tereka was nearly asleep by the time he returned to their camp.
Shortly after dawn, Da, still grimly silent, shouldered his pack and their weapons bundle, and led their horses into town behind a squad of guardsmen who’d taken their mounts out for early morning exercise. Tereka waited until she heard the town bells ring the eighth hour before she shambled through the gates behind two girls carrying baskets of eggs.
A mousy woman who dealt in herbs sold her a mug of tea. After she gulped it down, she purchased four pasties. Since they’d agreed that Da should be seen by as few people as possible, he might not be able to get something to eat. She took a bite of the pastie stuffed with sausage and ambled toward the town gate.
Once out of town, she turned to her right to walk north. Gishin was the northernmost town in Tlefas, and one of the smallest. After she passed through a field of rye, there was nothing but wilderness. She patted her side, reassuring herself that her throwing knives were still in place. As far as she knew, no one would be around other than bandits or Riskers.
Or of course, Da, who was waiting for her on the far edge of the field munching on his own pastie.
She grinned. “So you won’t mind if I eat the ones I bought for you?” Without waiting for a reply, she pulled one out of her pack and took a bite.
“Not if you don’t mind me eating what I got for you.” He placed an arm around her shoulders. “You don’t know what a relief it is to see you. We’ve escaped the worst danger.”
How could he say that? For Tereka, what lay ahead was equally terrifying.
Da picked up the bundle at his feet and unwrapped it. He held her bow out. “String it, and have your quiver ready.”
If they’d left the worst danger behind, why did they need weapons? Suddenly her mouth went dry. She prepared her bow and hung a quiver of arrows at her hip. Da did the same, then led the way to a footpath along the edge of the forest. The morning sun brightened the green of the pine trees and made the white trunks of the birches gleam. The breeze was gentle on Tereka’s face and sun-warmed limbs grown stiff from the ride the day before.
While her muscles relaxed, her nerves did not. “Are you sure this is a good idea, Da?” She twitched her shoulders, trying to relieve the itchy tingles along her arms.
He put a hand on her upper arm. “Yes. And if you’re going to inherit my license, it’s time you met some of our trading partners.” His grim expression did nothing to ease the jitters in Tereka’s stomach.
“But— ”
“Listen to me. You’ve seen how vengeful Juquila is.” Da clenched his teeth. “The only reason she hasn’t tried to have you taken is that Kaberco has a sense of fairness. He—or the questor—could overturn a taking she ordered.”
“So what are we worried about?”
“Juquila has a way of getting what she wants, especially from men.”
When Tereka saw the way his mouth pressed into a grim line across his tensed jaw, her breath caught in her throat.
“Dear girl, if for some reason Kaberco believed that you were unsafe and deserved to be taken, he wouldn’t think twice about doing it. And if he suspected your behavior reflected poorly on him, he’d hunt you from one end of Tlefas to the other. There would be no stopping him.” He closed his eyes as if shutting out some horrible vision of her future, then opened them to stare into her face. “Your best hope is to give Juquila time to think she’s won. Before she decides she wants Kaberco’s help, and uses her wiles to convince him to do what she wants.”
“But if he went along with her lies, that would be unfair.”
“Later,” Da said. “We need to be listening.”
Tereka opened her mouth to answer but thought better of it. None of Juquila’s actions seemed fair to her, even though the hypocrite repeated the slogans about safety and fairness every chance she could get.
Da wasn’t about to talk more. He kept turning his head from side to side, peering into the forest as if to discover someone or something hiding in the thin shadows of the bare tree branches.
They walked for hours. The sun had begun to descend into the west before Da stopped. “Let’s take a rest, shall we?” His face was still set like flint.
She was glad of the break. Her shoulders ached from the weight of her pack and she wanted to talk. But one glance at Da’s tense and stony face made her bite back the questions she longed to ask. She set down her pack, bow, and quiver, and ducked behind a pine tree.
When she rejoined Da, he was seated under a birch tree, staring into the woods, munching on a pastie. She imitated him, choosing a pastie with cabbage and onions. She took a bite, puzzled by his brooding mood.
He didn’t seem to be paying attention to her, but the instant she took the last bite of her pastie, he got to his feet. “Let’s go.”
With a shrug, Tereka stood and collected her possessions. Da turned into the forest, selecting a narrow path whose entrance was obscured by the red-veined leaves of frostberry bushes. Tereka stumbled after him. “Are you sure this goes anywhere?” She didn’t hear his reply.
This wasn’t making any sense. She could think of better ways to lay low until her aunt calmed down. Da was right, Juquila was vengeful. Givin
g her some space was a good idea. But hiking through a bandit-infested forest to the Riskers was another thing altogether. Barbarians and savages, that’s what everyone said.
Everyone, that is, except Da. He rarely spoke of the Riskers except concerning honey. The most he said was that mixing too closely with Riskers could lead to trouble.
She shook off these thoughts and concentrated on keeping up with him. He strode up the path, moving silently, glancing around and ahead, clearly looking for bandits. Just how did he think the two of them would be able to fight off a pack of ruffians?
To settle her nervousness, Tereka shuffled questions in her mind, wondering which she should ask first. Soon, the path began to ascend sharply and she was breathing too hard to think of trying to speak. It was all she could do to keep up with the pace Da set. He was having no problem with the climb. Which must mean he’d done it often. She decided to wait until Da stopped for a rest to ask him anything.
More than an hour later they were still walking, the sun now behind them, casting long shadows on the path. Tereka was panting but determined not to be the one to ask for a break.
A bellow cut the air and something crashed in the underbrush.
Da seized her arm and pushed her in front of him. “Run!”
Tereka wanted to ask why but she knew that tone—his “I’m your father and don’t argue” voice. She sprinted up the path as the sound of snapping branches grew louder, approaching from her right. The path steepened. Her breath came in gasps. A stitch clamped her side, turning every breath into a sharp stab. She stumbled and nearly tripped. Da grabbed her elbow just before she fell. “Keep going.”
She ran forward, then stopped when she noticed he wasn’t following. She turned to see him draw his bow. The crashing came closer, followed by a roar. Her heart nearly stopped when she realized what it was. A warboar, a beast with massive tusks and the speed of a wolf.
In a blink, she’d grabbed an arrow from her quiver and nocked it. She sucked in a breath to steady her shaking hands as she aimed, then started when an arrow whistled past her ear and pierced the warboar’s side. Da’s arrow hit the beast in the throat but it continued to run toward Tereka. She released her arrow and watched it plunge into the beast’s chest. Two more arrows flew from behind her and stuck in the warboar’s throat. It roared, staggered, and crashed to the ground.
Flicker of the Flame: A YA Epic Fantasy Page 11
