Trading Close To Light

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Trading Close To Light Page 17

by C. M. Simpson


  He tilted his head to observe her, and Marsh wondered what he was thinking. It became clear enough when he lashed out with a hind hoof and then danced away. Marsh stopped, and the mule repositioned his hindquarters.

  Okaaay, then.

  “Get a move on, Leclerc.”

  Gustav had managed to get into the saddle and was keeping a tight hand on his reins.

  “Be right with you,” Marsh told him, coming round to the front of her own beast.

  She figured if Aisha could do it, then so could she.

  She stood within reach of the reins but didn’t make a move toward them. The mule eyed her uncertainly, and Marsh looked into its liquid brown eyes. What was its problem? Hadn’t it had enough of its stall? Didn’t it want to walk new trails? Discover new pastures? What did mules think of when they met a new rider, anyway?

  For a long moment, she was aware of the mule returning her stare and all too aware of looking into its eyes, and then she was falling, coming to stand before it mind to mind, so to speak.

  “I need a favor,” she told it, impressing her need to be carried, impressing the urgency of their mission into its mind.

  It sidled back and forth, the tether acting as a pivot point, clearly nervous. Marsh tried to reassure it, projecting comfort and a promise to protect it. Uncertainty answered her, and clear apprehension about the hoshkat accompanied it.

  “Friends,” Marsh told the beast. “We will both protect you.”

  The mule stilled, considering her promise, and then it relaxed.

  Marsh let it go, descending back to her own mind before approaching the creature one more time. This time it let her mount without any resistance. Gustav remained unimpressed.

  “Well, now that that’s over, let’s move out.”

  Marsh didn’t really have an answer for that, so she just mounted and went to move her mule in behind Roeglin’s. Again, Gustav had something to say.

  “You’re riding behind me, Leclerc. I want you scanning ahead once we’re outside the gates.”

  Oh, he did, did he?

  Looks like, Roeglin said, unless you want to tell him otherwise…

  Marsh didn’t dignify his teasing with more than a covert flip of her fingers as she nudged the mule into its position in the caravan. It looked like it was going to be a long ride.

  17

  Dinner Guests

  The approach to the farmlet was overgrown by a combination of shrooms and shrubs, but Marsh’s scan of both shadows and life didn’t reveal anything out of the ordinary. She picked up a couple of big centipedes prowling the edges of the cavern, and a number of smaller life signs that bounded and scurried through the vegetation.

  Not joffra or shroom walkers, and no beetles either. These life forms reminded her more of rabbits or rats, or something similar. It was hard to know; she hadn’t been to the surface since discovering she had magic. Maybe when this was over…

  Gustav’s voice interrupted her thoughts.

  “Anything?”

  It almost jolted the magic loose from her grasp, and Marsh scowled as she kept hold of it.

  “Two big pedes and a bunch of small and furries,” she told him. “Nothing outside of that.”

  “Nothing? Are you sure?”

  The questioning tone made her let go of the nature magic allowing her to detect the life forms around them, and she looked at him.

  “No. Why?”

  He gestured at the small stone house standing in the clearing in front of them.

  “Because we’re here, and I was hoping someone would be home.”

  Marsh cocked her head to one side. “You ever tried knocking?”

  He mimicked the movement, then swept his arm toward the door.

  “No. Why don’t you show me how it’s done?”

  Marsh stared at him, momentarily shocked by the smartassery, and then she dismounted and headed for the door.

  “Sure, boss. Whatever you say.”

  She lifted the reins over the mule’s head and dropped them to the ground, hoping this one had been trained the same way Per usually trained them and that it would stay in one place as though tethered by the reins at its feet.

  No one answered the door when Marsh knocked. She glanced back at Gustav, Roeglin, and the guards, and saw they’d arrayed themselves so as to keep the surrounding hollow under observation. Marsh did her own scan of the cavern, tugging on the shadows to see if they were connected to anything hidden and searching for any sign of human life.

  When she came up with nothing, she knocked again, flinching when the sound of it echoed through the cavern as well as the house beyond. Again there was no answer, and Marsh sighed. Her shoulders slumped as she laid her fingers on the door handle.

  Poor Brodeur, she thought, pushing the handle down and shoving the door inwards.

  She was pretty sure of what she’d find, but there was no use acting on assumptions. If she was lucky, there was some other reason no one had answered the door.

  Like what? she scolded herself, letting the door swing wide as she peered into the dimly-lit corridor beyond.

  There was a door set into the wall on either side and another at the end of the corridor. Marsh decided to start with the door on the left and scanned the corridor once more to make sure nothing was waiting in the shadows.

  What’s the matter, Marsh? Afraid of the dark? Roeglin taunted.

  Marsh wanted to give him the finger, but she was already pulling a blade and buckler from the shadows. She stepped inside without responding, sliding along the wall to the door. A quick flick of the wrist and a slight push had it open. Marsh tweaked the shadows linked to the inside, and when none of them had anything to show, she sidestepped through the door and scanned the room.

  Nothing.

  No signs of life—and no sign of disturbance.

  All the toys were in a perfect array, and the bed was made.

  It’s not looking good, she thought, aware of the cautious steps following her inside.

  No, Roeglin agreed as she turned back. Let’s see what’s next.

  It was no surprise to find Gerry and Izmay waiting in the hall. Neither warrior moved, though, as Marsh and Roeglin opened the other door. This room was the same, except it wasn’t a child’s room. Marsh tried to remember if Ines had mentioned the sister having a husband to go with the child and thought she might have.

  That doesn’t matter now, Roeglin told her, surveying the room from beside her.

  Marsh sighed. Of course, he was right. That didn’t mean she had to like it. Together they went through the room, opening closets and checking under the bed, and then they returned to the child’s room and did the same, Marsh kicking herself for forgetting it before.

  “Do you think they’ll come out once they know we’re here?”

  Roeglin shook his head.

  “No. They’re gonna think we’re raiders.”

  “Not funny, Ro.”

  “Not meant to be. Let’s just hope they work out we’re not before they try to take one our heads off.”

  “I can’t see them, and the shadows don’t show anyone…” Marsh began, but Roeglin had turned toward the door at the end of the hall.

  “The shadows don’t do so well when there are obstacles in the way, remember?”

  Marsh did. She also did not want to see the state of the kitchen-come-dining room beyond the door. She’d had enough of half-eaten dinners, and half-cooked meals to last her a lifetime. The fact the next ones would belong to folk important to someone she knew only made it harder. She took a deep breath and reached for the door.

  “Let’s get it done,” she said, and turned the handle.

  Roeglin was beside her when they entered the room beyond.

  To their surprise, it was well lit, and a fire crackled in the hearth. Glows shone brightly from sconces on the wall. The table was set for two, but one of the forks was askew, as though someone had left in a hurry. A large pot had been set on the bench beside the stove as though someone was wor
ried the food would burn.

  The kitchen was as empty as the rest of the house.

  Marsh and Roeglin spun in a careful circle.

  “Do you think they’re still here?”

  “I don’t think they’ve gone far.”

  “Do you think they’ll come out if we call?”

  “Would you?”

  Marsh felt her heart sink.

  “We can’t give up,” she said. “They have to know we’re not here to hurt them, that they weren’t forgotten and help was sent.”

  “We’re going to need proof.”

  “What sort of proof?”

  Roeglin looked stunned.

  “You’re asking me? I’m probably part of the reason they’re not coming out.” He caught Marsh’s look of disbelief and gestured at his clothes. “Look at me. How much difference is there really between the raiders’ uniforms and what I’m dressed in?”

  “You could always strip down naked.” Izmay’s snide suggestion was followed by the equally unhelpful, “Hasn’t been a single report of any shadow raider doing that.”

  “Yeah, thanks, Iz. Thanks a lot.”

  Marsh left them to it and tried scanning the room once more. First, she asked the shadows, looking for any that might be connected to someone hiding in the dark. When that failed, she looked for any lives to which they were connected, hoping her nature magic would reveal something beyond themselves.

  Nothing.

  Both methods came up empty and she wracked her brains, trying to think of some other way to sense those around her. If shadow magic wouldn’t work and nature magic failed, what did that leave her? She glanced at Roeglin, realizing the shadow mage had been suspiciously silent while she’d been trying different alternatives. Then it came to her.

  “You,” she said, releasing her sword to the shadows so she could smack Roeglin on the shoulder. “Why don’t you try?”

  He gave her a funny look.

  “If the shadows aren’t working for you, what makes you think they’ll work for me?” he asked, and Marsh smacked him again.

  “Not the shadows,” she said. “Mental magic. You can sense the minds around you, right? Well, can you?”

  He stared at her, and Marsh began to think she’d made a mistake—right up until he answered.

  “I should have thought of that.”

  “Yeah,” Izmay snarked, “you really should.”

  “Not helping, Iz,” Gerry commented, fielding the female shadow guard’s glare with a sort of whatchagonnadoaboutit-oohbringiton look until she turned away.

  Roeglin closed his eyes.

  “Right. Keep watch for me.”

  Marsh wanted to ask him what else he thought she was going to do, but she was more interested in seeing if he could find what she could not, so she kept quiet. It seemed to take him an eternity, during which time heavy steps signaled Gustav and the other guards arriving through the front door.

  “Mules are in the barn. Thought we heard joffra or one of the pedes moving in. Figured it was best we didn’t volunteer to be supper.”

  Henri sniffed appreciatively at the smell of the meal that had been set aside.

  “Speaking of supper…”

  “Don’t even think of it,” Marsh scolded. “We haven’t found them yet.”

  “They’re just outside the door,” Roeglin told her. “Wait one!”

  His second call stopped Marsh and Gustav as they made for the back door. He continued when the turned to look at him.

  “Give me a moment to convince them we’re not here to hurt them. Starting with the fact,” he added, glaring at Henri, “that we’re not going to eat their supper.”

  Henri sighed.

  “Well, can you at least ask them if we can borrow the hearth. Rations taste better if you can heat them.”

  Marsh had to admit the big guard had a point, but she wished he could have waited a little longer. She was about to say as much when the door to the kitchen cracked open and they all turned. The door froze, but it was open far enough for them to see two curious faces peering around it.

  Two sets of dark blue eyes framed by honey-colored skin looked in at them from under bangs as black as pitch. There was wariness in those twin gazes, but lively curiosity, too…and Marsh would have sworn that she saw mischief mingled with the rest.

  After a few heartbeats’ silence, the door was swung wide enough for the two women outside to come through. The taller of the pair slipped an arm around the other and stopped her from going too far into the room. A closer look showed that she was much older than her companion. The sister and her child? Marsh wondered. Brodeur hadn’t said the girl was in her teens.

  “Wait, Claudie.”

  Claudie?

  Marsh hoped she hadn’t missed the details, but she couldn’t recall either councilor or captain mentioning the names of Brodeur’s sister or her child. The girl had caught sight of Mordan, but she stopped, although she shot her mother a reproachful look. Her mother followed the direction of the child’s gaze and smiled.

  “Oh. Wait a moment, because even if not eating our supper is a good start, and asking for permission to use the hearth a step in the right direction, I still have one question to ask.”

  Marsh felt the guards still. Even Roeglin froze as though trying hard not to startle the pair.

  “Which of you can speak with minds?” the mother demanded.

  The mage cleared his throat, moving one hand slightly to draw her attention. “Me,” he said. “Roeglin Leger of the Cavern’s Deep Monastery.”

  The mother quirked an eyebrow at him.

  “You said you rode with an emissary?” Gustav raised his hand. The woman glanced at him and then continued, her eyes traveling over the gathered company as though assessing where and what each and every one of them was. “And a newly minted shadow mage who speaks to the beasts.” Marsh raised her hand and the woman continued, ticking them off her fingers. “Two ex-caravan guards.” Here Henri and Jakob signaled who they were. “And three shadow guards.”

  She caught sight of Gerry, Izmay, and Zeb standing in the hall.

  “Ah, yes, I see.”

  Her gaze returned to Henri.

  “Now, what was this about borrowing my hearth?”

  The ex-caravan guard reddened, but the woman gave him no time to recover.

  “I won’t hear of it. Fetch me that pot.”

  He followed the direction of her pointing finger and cast Gustav a troubled look.

  “I’d do what she says, lad, or you won’t be getting any supper.”

  There was a smile in the Protector captain’s voice, but it vanished pretty quickly when Brodeur’s sister turned to him.

  “I’ll thank you to go sit at the table. You and all the rest.”

  Her daughter tugged at her hand, and she glanced down.

  “What is it, Claudie?”

  “The kat, mama,” the girl whispered. “Can I…”

  The woman lifted her eyes from her daughter’s face and looked at Marsh.

  “Can she?”

  Marsh looked at Mordan, who had taken shelter under the table.

  “I have someone who wants to meet you,” she told the kat and used the link between them to draw Mordan’s attention to the girl.

  Mordan yawned and stretched, but she didn’t get up. Instead, she eyed the young woman, who was staring at her in fascination. The girl cast Marsh an anxious glance.

  “Can I? Is it okay?”

  Mordan huffed out a sigh and laid her head on her paws, sending a deep feeling of resignation as well as her consent over the link. Marsh laughed.

  “It’s okay, but she’s had a long day, so be gentle.”

  She hadn’t finished speaking before the girl had hurried over to the table and slipped beneath it to kneel beside the kat.

  “Oh, aren’t you the prettiest girl?” she cooed, and Roeglin rolled his eyes.

  Marsh looked at the woman.

  “She’s always liked animals,” the woman said and pointed t
o a door at one side of the kitchen. “Could you find me some vegetables for a stew?”

  Marsh nodded, and the woman turned to Roeglin.

  “There’s also some meat.” Roeglin followed Marsh, pausing as the woman added, “Bring some for the kat, too.”

  Opening the door and discovering the pantry, Marsh tried to think what vegetables Daniel or Per would choose. The Deeps knew she’d worked in the kitchens often enough when she’d been growing up, although her recent forays into cooking had consisted of heating her rations or hitting a caf or dining hall. Not much cooking at all.

  Roeglin followed her in and opened the stone meat-safe set in the back wall. He grunted at the weight of the lid and hauled out two small haunches.

  “Think this will be enough for Dan?” he asked, holding one up.

  Marsh nodded, staring at the unfamiliar array of vegetables, and Roeglin came to stand beside her.

  “That one, that one, that one…and…ooh, that one,” he suggested, and she wondered how he had any idea.

  “Rock mages,” he replied as he carried the meat into the kitchen. “They like their food.”

  Thinking of the Beast Master, Marsh could see how. She grabbed the vegetables Roeglin had indicated and carried them out. Henri and Roeglin were standing by the pot, which now hung over the fire, but the rest of the team were seated at the table and looking very uncomfortable at not having anything to do.

  Fortunately, their hostess had a solution for that too. She smiled when she saw Marsh’s selection and pointed to the table.

  “Set them there,” she ordered and took cutting boards, bowls, and knives from a nearby shelf, distributing them to those at the table. She settled herself into a spare seat and divided up the vegetables. “We can talk while we work.”

  It was as if she’d given a signal. Gustav breathed a sigh of relief and waited for the first lot of vegetables to land on his cutting board. The woman ignored him and introduced herself.

 

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