“Good hunting then,” Camsen said. “May the Power-Giver light your way.”
CHAPTER NINE
FORTUNES
Camsen watched Renni ride away, sitting proudly in the saddle of the beautiful and powerful horse she’d named Dark Star. Not until she was almost lost to sight did he release the great sigh he’d been holding in. They had started out as a company of four. Five, if you counted Kyla. Now all five, including Kyla, were separated from one another, none of them knowing where the others were or how they fared. Lore was injured, probably unconscious, possibly dead. Kyla, if she had been living up to the time of her abduction and the untimely opening of her coffin, had probably not survived the treatment she’d received since that time.
Being able to communicate by sending mental messages would help keep them connected in some way. Could he do it? He’d heard Zauna’s warnings to Lore, but nothing from her since. Renni had indicated that Zauna probably needed to recover from exhaustion and a heavy expenditure of power before she’d be able to engage in mindspeech. Renni had also admitted that, having only just learned to send, for her it could require more concentration than she could spare when riding and searching for Lore, though she would attempt it. Had she tried and failed? Or had she sent but he’d failed to receive? No way to know.
Although the quest on which they’d embarked now seemed hopeless, doomed to failure, he resolved to concentrate on the present and on what he could do here and now. After all, the present moment was all anyone had, and it should never be wasted thinking about what one should have done in the past or could possibly do in the future. He had to do what he could at this present moment.
He stared down the road in the direction of Marquez. No one, no conveyance, no horses and riders were in sight coming from that direction. That at least encouraged him. Shiny must have intercepted Thornbridge’s men, told them of their leader’s injury and possible death, and persuaded them to return to Marquez, taking Shiny with them. It was also possible that he’d led them into the hills so that they could attack from an unexpected direction. Trying to banish the worry over that latter possibility, he wiped sweat from his face. He’d scarcely realized till now how hot the day had become. He could do nothing about a possibility of attack that might not materialize.
He walked back to stand beside Thornbridge, still lying, unresponsive, on the road in the hot sun. Staring down at the man, he thought about their discovery that the bandit leader was gifted and about how dangerous giftedness could be if employed for evil. He certainly had not forgotten how close to death the entire Gifted Community of Port-of-Lords had been brought by one man whose powerful abilities were directed by hate and bent wholly on evil. It had taken the entire Gifted Community working together to defeat him. No single member acting alone could have done it.
That had not been the case with Thornbridge. Renni had gone against him one on one and defeated him by using a single gift, that of animal control. The unexpected attack by his own horse had caught him by surprise and did not necessarily reveal the limits of his power. Had that power come from an evil source as had been the case with their recent formidable foe, or had the Power-Giver bestowed it? In the latter case, it could be that Thornbridge had never had the advantage of proper training in the use of power. Now he lay near death and would never get an opportunity for such training.
Acting on sudden impulse, Camsen called, “Jeppy,” summoning the remaining thief from out of the shade cast by the wagon.
The man came, albeit fearfully. “He dead yet?” he asked in a somewhat tremulous voice, gazing down at Thornbridge.
“No, he lives.” Camsen said. “I want you to help me lift him into the wagon. I can’t just leave him lying out here to die in the heat.”
Jeppy blinked in startlement. “You think he might live if—”
“I have no idea whether he will live or die. In the wagon I may be able to examine him more closely and learn how badly he was injured. I suspect broken ribs and possibly a concussion from his head striking stones when he fell. We’ll have to lift him carefully to prevent a broken rib from shifting and piercing a lung—if one has not already done that.”
“Just tell me what to do,” Jeppy said. “I’ll do it, but I gotta warn you. If he isn’t too badly hurt, he’ll be dangerous. He got took by surprise, not expectin’ his own horse to rear up like that and pound him. I been workin’ for him a long time, and I never knew him to lose a fight. I seen him get out of some mighty tough spots, I’ll tell ya.”
“Let’s worry about that if he regains consciousness,” Camsen said. “Now you take his feet, I’ll lift him from under his shoulders, and we’ll carry him carefully to the wagon, and ease him gently up over the sideboard. We’ll have to lean him against the side until we can climb in ourselves and lay him down.”
Jeppy nodded, obviously skeptical not just of the procedure but of the wisdom of loading Thornbridge into the wagon. But Camsen’s background as a priest of Ondin and his later training in the Gifted Community wouldn’t let him abandon a man to die on the road. Thornbridge moaned when they lifted him but did not seem to be regaining consciousness. When they’d accomplished the difficult maneuver of lifting him up into the wagon, Camsen got into the wagon from the front, found a blanket to spread out on the wagon floor beside the coffin, and again with Jeppy’s help got Thornbridge laid out on it. The blanket that he supplied for the purpose was his own. He could use another or go without.
Once they got Thornbridge arranged, Jeppy gazed nervously at the empty coffin. “There’d be more room in here if you got rid of that,” he said. “Unless you figger to fit Thornbridge in it if he expires. But he’s too tall to fit.”
“I still hope to recover its rightful occupant,” Camsen said. “We should eat something while we’re waiting for Ril and the horse he’s taking care of. When the horse is rested a bit, we’ll get underway.”
“To where?” Jeppy asked, the alarm that was never far below the surface creeping back into his voice. Worry lines creased his forehead.
“We’ll head in the direction Renni took and hope to meet her along the road.”
“Not likely with the head start she’s got, and ridin’ that horse of Thorny’s.”
“The horse is hers now, and she’ll be careful not to ride it too hard We have a good chance at catching up with her.” Camsen hoped that was the case. Their fortunes seemed to be looking up a bit after taking such a terrible downturn. They’d lost Kyla, Lore was missing, but they had their wagon and goods back, and horses to pull the wagon. And Renni had her fine stallion. He hoped fortune would smile on Zauna too.
Jeppy clamped his lips tight over whatever response he wanted to make. After a brief silence, he asked, “What’s to eat?”
§
Zauna woke with a start. She’d lain down and closed her eyes to rest them, intending to go back to her crystal gazing in just a few moments. She hadn’t intended to sleep. Her ability to concentrate had become badly eroded after the hours she’d spent at her task. She’d hoped that a brief respite would refresh it and enable her to return to her crystal with renewed strength. How had she let herself fall asleep?
After trying to send a mental message to Renni with no response, she tried to communicate with Lore. Again, nothing. It wasn’t just that they weren’t responding. She got no sense that her messages had gone anywhere outside of her own mind.
She rose and looked out the window at the morning light. Morning! She’d slept all through the night. Her stomach growled loudly, reminding her that she’d eaten nothing since yesterday morning’s breakfast. To restore her ability not only to find images in the crystal ball but also to mindsend, the rest, needed as it had been, was not enough. She would have to eat at least a light breakfast.
She went downstairs to the dining room without changing the clothes she’d worn yesterday and then slept in. To her relief, breakfast was still being served, though only one couple remained at a table. Most of the guests would have already eaten an
d left. The waitress appeared relieved when Zauna ordered only a bowl of assorted fruit and a portion of bread. The bread would have been fresh out of the oven had she come earlier, but even now its crispy crust and soft, moist interior, though no longer warm, delighted the palate as well as providing nourishment.
She finished the food and was downing the last of the coffee she’d ordered when Master Duncan came to her table. “Mistress Raye, I must talk to you,” he said, pulling out a chair and seating himself. “I hope you enjoyed your breakfast?”
“Yes, I did,” she replied, eyeing him warily, suspecting what was coming.
“Good, good. We take pride in the quality of food we serve here at Duncan’s,” the innkeeper said. “I am wondering however, how you plan to pay for your continued stay here. I deeply sympathize with your losses,” he hastened to add. “First the theft of your wagon and goods, and then your funds being taken by the young woman who shared your room. And now your gentlemen companions seem to have abandoned you as well. Sad indeed.” He paused and shook his head as if contemplating the enormity of her loss.
“I trust you do understand, however,” he continued after that pseudo-sympathetic pause, “that I cannot run this inn as a charity. The meal you have just eaten has not been charged to your account. It is my gift to you. However, any additional meals and overnight stays must be paid for. And given your declared lack of funds, I have no choice but to ask payment in advance.”
The snake! What did he expect her to do? Of course she’d lied about having no funds. She had a small sum in a cloth bag now pinned to her underclothes, a part of her allotted portion of the money Marchion Blandry had given them to finance their trip. Camsen Wellner had the major portion of those funds and dispersed amounts to them as needed, keeping careful tally of what was spent. She’d already used most of her allotment to purchase her crystal ball, not expecting to be stranded alone here in Marquez. She needed to earn enough to purchase passage to Pescatil, the last town before their route to Hillcross diverged from the main road that stretched from Marquez to Highport. That is where they’d agreed to meet if they should become separated, an eventuality they had not expected to occur. But she did, after all, have a way to earn money.
She bestowed on Master Duncan her sweetest smile. “Thank you for allowing me to fortify myself this morning. I appreciate your generosity, and I do understand your policy. I am a fortuneteller by trade. A good one. I can earn sufficient funds to pay for my meals and lodging if you will allow me to set up at a small table in your reception area.”
Master Duncan looked shocked. “Oh, my dear woman, fortune tellers abound in this city, and we do have laws governing their practice. I cannot allow you to use my establishment for your, ahem, commercial endeavor. You would need a license from the city’s licensing board—unless you’ve already obtained one?”
“No, I haven’t. Where do I go to get one?”
“The city offices are in a large brick building in the town center, but I’m afraid you are out of luck. First, you must go to the office and fill in an application, and a licensing fee must be paid at the time of application. Since you have no funds, your application would not be accepted. Second, if you could manage to pay the fee and put in your application, a ten-day waiting period is required before you would receive the license and be authorized to ply your trade.”
“Well then, isn’t there somewhere else I can set up a stand for fortune telling without needing a license?”
“I do happen to know of one place.” He lowered his voice as though reluctant to speak and wanting no one to hear. “I can give you a name, but really, you should go through proper channels and get a license.”
“I don’t have ten days. I must earn money today,” Zauna said and waited to hear his suggestion, knowing that one would come and that it would be to Master Duncan’s advantage.
“Weeell, I could offer you work as a maid during those ten days, and beyond them if for some reason the fortune telling didn’t work out for you.”
“Oh, no. I’m too old for that sort of work.” Zauna’s indignation was not feigned. Work as a maid, indeed!
“Well, then I’ll write down the name of a place where you could probably set up as a fortune teller. Of course, you would have to agree to pay a percentage of your earnings.”
A-ha! So that’s his game. Whatever I have to pay, you can bet Master Duncan gets a cut. With a somewhat exaggerated sigh of resignation, Zauna said, “Yes, give me the name. I’ll get my crystal ball and check there right away.”
Master Duncan got a paper and pen and wrote down a name and address. Handing it to her, he said, “I’ll hold your room while you see about this, but I can hold it only until tonight. If you’re not back here by nightfall with payment for another night, you will have forfeited the room and anything you’ve left in it.”
“I understand. I’ll be back before then.” To herself she thought, Not if I’m lucky, and I won’t be leaving anything in the room, in case things work out as I hope. Feigning sincerity, she thanked him for his kind assistance and tucked the paper he’d given her into her pocket.
Back in her room she got out the box that held her crystal ball, pulled out all the packing straw, and in its place, wrapped her spare clothes and the clothes Renni had left around the ball and stand. Unable to fit everything in, she had to leave behind a long, full skirt of her own and a frilly blouse of Renni’s that the girl surely would not need. If she returned, she could reclaim the items but if all went well, they would get by without those two items. She pushed the packing straw into a corner of the chifforobe. Eventually a maid would find and remove it.
She could do nothing about the things Camsen and Lore had left in their room. The room they’d used was locked, and she had no way to get into it. She thought it likely that Master Duncan had already confiscated whatever they’d left.
The box was heavy and unwieldy. The clothing in it weighed more than the packing straw had. She could tell fortunes without the crystal, which was merely window dressing when she was inventing stories to please customers, but she would not leave the precious crystal orb behind and risk having it stolen.
She slipped out a side door, not wanting to run into Master Duncan and have him demand to see what she carried in the box. The day was already hot with that dry heat that sucked all the moisture from a person’s body. She could only hope that when she reached her destination she’d be able to get water.
She had no intention of going to the address Master Duncan had furnished. She had a different destination, a place where she thought she might be able to use her crystal ball despite what Master Duncan had told her.
That destination required that she stop several times and put down her box to rest her arms. Each time she did so, she received suspicious looks from passersby, and once a peacekeeper approached, slapping his baton against the palm of his other hand. He told her to move on, apparently taking her for a vagabond looking for handouts. She couldn’t blame him. The gown she wore had seen better days, but it was suitable for fortune telling and besides, there would have been no way she could have fitted it inside the box with her other clothing.
Fortunately, she had a good sense of direction and a good memory. She smiled when she came in sight of the sign announcing the name The Brave Bear. Maybe on this visit she’d have time to ask what story lay behind that name.
She had to put down the box to open the shop door and hold the door open with her foot to pick up the box and go inside with it. The clang of the bell aroused the orange tabby that had apparently been sleeping on the counter as before. The cat stood, stretched languidly, jumped down, and strolled into a back room. A moment later Allie appeared, looking even older than Zauna recalled, her skin so wrinkled and brown like ancient parchment. But the eyes that peered out from between deep wrinkles were as bright as polished onyx, shining with shrewd intelligence.
“I hope you’re not thinking to return that,” she rasped. “It’s been serving you well, has it not?
”
“It has indeed,” Zauna answered, suspecting that Allie knew exactly the use to which she’d put it. “I’m hoping you can direct me to a place where I can set it up and earn some money telling fortunes. Maybe even here in your shop?” The last she added hopefully.
Allie let out a cackle. “Don’t get enough customers in here to do you any good, dearie,” she said. “You want a place where you’d attract attention. Nobody’d find you in here.”
“Well, I’ve been told that I’d need a permit to set up in any commercial establishment or in a city park and that it takes several days to get such a permit. I don’t really trust Master Duncan, the innkeeper, who told me that, but I did note that every time I stopped to rest on the way here, I got angry looks.”
Again that cackle. “Y’ do right not to trust that snake,” Allie said. “But let’s see the address of the place he told you to go.”
Zauna hadn’t said anything about Master Duncan recommending a place where she could tell fortunes, but it didn’t surprise her that Allie knew. She fished the paper he’d written the address on from one of her capacious pockets and handed it to Allie.
The old woman squinted at it a moment. “Ha!” she said. “That eatery’s run by an enemy of mine, a man I despise. I reached this town after a long, tiring journey. Stopped here and set up this shop because I didn’t have the energy to go any farther. I had a companion then, a small bear who’d braved many hardships along with me over many years. Had him from when he was a cub, and he never grew much bigger.” Her eyes grew misty, losing their sparkle as she spoke. “His small size meant he’d never survive in the wild, but he had special abilities that made him and me a good team. I called him my familiar back in the day when my powers were greater than now. I lived near a man who raised bees, and the bear got into their hive and stole the honeycomb. The neighbor swore he’d kill my little bear, so I took him and left that place and decided I’d go back to where I’d come from years before, though that meant an arduous journey for us both. Seeing how much things had changed, I stopped here, like I said, because I figured even if I reached my original home, it would be nothing like what I remembered. I opened this shop, called it after my dear little friend, and did right well for some time. Lots of people came in to see the little bear and stayed to browse and buy. Then one day this Master Lazolo came in here and told me it was illegal to have a wild animal in town and the bear would have to go. I told him the bear wasn’t wild, and he was the one who had to go. He demanded that I give the bear over to him. I refused and ordered him from the shop. He left, and several weeks went by. Then one night someone broke into the store while I slept in the room right above here. I woke up to growls and curses and ran downstairs in my night clothes, and there was Master Lazolo and a couple of peacekeepers, and my bear had bitten and scratched Lazolo and had his teeth sunk into the man’s arm.” She paused and wiped her hands across her eyes. “I’d no sooner entered the room when one of the peacekeepers shot my brave little bear. And the other peacekeeper trained his gun on me when I tried to go to him. Lazolo’s a big man. He grabbed the bear by the scruff of his neck and held him up while I watched my sweet bear bleed to death. ‘Now maybe you’ll learn to obey city ordinances,’ he said and turned to leave. I tried to follow, but by then both peacekeepers had their guns trained on me. I have powers, but I can’t stop bullets. But I hollered out to Lazolo, ‘Murderer,’ I said, ‘the next time you see my face, you’ll die.’ ‘Madam,’ he called back without turning around, ‘the next time you leave this shop, you’ll be hauled off to permanent detention.’ With that he left, and the peacekeepers backed to the door while keeping their pistols aimed at me. They stayed there like that long enough to let Lazolo get well away, carrying the body of my dear little bear, denying me even the right to give him a decent burial. And before they finally left, they warned me not to venture farther from my shop than this block. Of course that was several years ago, and three days afterward this cat wandered in to my shop.” She stopped and moved to the counter to place her hand on the cat’s head. “I knew my bear had sent him to be my new companion. He’s a fine one, but I’ll never get over the loss of my bear.”
Deniably Dead (Arucadi Series Book 4) Page 10
