CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
REUNION
renni sat back in her chair and shook her head, trying to absorb the tale she’d been told, and trying to decide whether or not she believed it.
Master Carran cleared his throat. He’d remained silent as his wife recounted her part of the story, filling in the events of the eight-year gap between his death and his return to life—assuming the incredible story was true. Now he said, “I don’t blame our young guest for doubting all this, Anya. I scarcely believe it myself. It’s hard for me to accept that eight years have gone by since I fell in that field. I remember the awful pain in my gut, remember hearing people falling all around me, groaning and screaming, even rolling around in the dirt and tearing at our clothes. And then … then, nothing. Not like passing out or falling asleep. More of an emptiness. I just wasn’t there anymore. And then, somehow, I was, still lying’ in that field. All around me people were getting’ up to their feet, and I got up to mine, feelin’ shaky, and not knowin’ what happened. Nobody was sayin’ much. We just headed out of the field to the road and started walkin’ home. And now to find out that the … the nothingness lasted eight years …” He shook his head. “It’s mighty hard to take in.”
Mistress Carran rose, stepped up behind his chair, placed her hands on his shoulders, and massaged them. “And I can’t believe I have you back after being a widow for eight years. It’s a miracle, it is. I wonder—has Vito come back? I can’t think this is Harin’s doings, unless it’s to make up for what his aspirants did, but why wait for eight years to decide to undo what they did? That wouldn’t make sense.”
Master Carran reached up and grasped his wife’s hands. “Wouldn’t make sense for Vito to wait that long, neither,” he said. “I’m thinkin’ I’d like to go into town and see what’s goin’ on there. Maybe somebody’s got some answers.”
More than anything else, their obvious puzzlement convinced Renni that their story was true. She, too, wanted to go into town and see for herself what was happening there. But Dark Star needed time to rest before being ridden again. “How far is it to town?” she asked. “Is it close enough to walk there?”
“It’s a bit of a walk, but I’ve done it many a time since our old horse died.” Mistress Carran patted her husband’s shoulders. “That was about four years ago, Mel. I’m sorry. I know how you loved that horse.”
“I reckon a lot’s happened in eight years,” Mel said. “I’m mighty proud of you, Anya, for keeping things together the way you have.”
“Well, it hasn’t been easy, and there’ve been times I’ve wanted to give up, times I wished I’d gone with you to that so-called picnic and died by your side. But you know me. I’m a stubborn woman. Those murderers took you from me. I wasn’t going to let them take anything more."
“You’re a good woman, Anya. No man could want a better wife.”
The love in his eyes as he gazed up at Anya brought tears to Renni’s eyes. She felt that she was intruding on what should be a very private reunion between husband and wife. “I think I should go check on my horse,” she said, rising from her chair. “I wanted to rest him a bit, but if it’s just a short ride into town, maybe I could go and see what’s happening there, and then come back. Would that be all right? To come back here, I mean.”
“Of course,” Mistress Carran said with no hesitation. “And you can tell us what you see and hear in town. If everybody’s back, there’ll be a good bit happening, I’d guess.”
“Better be careful, though,” Master Carran warned. “Most of the townspeople won’t have my good fortune. Whole families died together. They won’t find family waitin’ for ’em nor homes in good shape like Anya’s kept ours. And with fields left to go to seeds and weeds, what’ll they find to eat? As a matter o’ fact, I better check my shotgun, in case some come around here wantin’ what we have because of Anya’s good sense and hard work.”
“That’s true, Mel.” Anya’s face took on a worried frown. “Buildings have fallen into disrepair, and there’s no place left to buy food and supplies. Those of us who were left get by with what we can grow and preserve. Old George butchers a sheep now and then and shares the meat with us. Every now and then we get a trader come through from Harnor with supplies. We haven’t gone without, but we don’t have much to spare, either. And now with a town full of people, well … there’ll be hard times ahead. Fields will have to be plowed and seeds sown, but it’ll be months before crops are ready for harvest. Sheep and cattle were left to go wild, mostly. They’ll have to be rounded up and sorted out. It’ll all take time. How’ll everybody manage in the meantime?”
“Hearin’ that and thinkin’ about all that, maybe it’s not a good idea for this young lady to go into town,” Mel said. “Not alone, anyhow.”
“Think we should go with her?” Anya asked.
“I’m thinkin’ I should,” Mel said.
“Mel Carran, after going eight years without you, I’m not letting you out of my sight,” Anya declared, hands on her hips. “If you go, I go.”
“But I have a horse, while you’d have to walk,” Renni pointed out.
“Our horse died, but I still have the wagon we used to hitch him to,” Anya said. “We can go in it.”
Renni couldn’t imagine hitching Dark Star to a wagon. She felt quite certain he’d never been subjected to that indignity. With that thought came the question of how far behind her Camsen might be with their wagon and horses. It had been too long since she’d tried to mindsend and check on him. He’d been traveling the same route she’d taken, and she hadn’t been going fast the past day, wanting to spare Dark Star. He might not be far behind.
She still didn’t find it easy to mindsend. It required a level of concentration more easily acquired in private. She pushed away from the table. “If you’ll excuse me, I do need to see to my horse, whether he’s had enough to eat, and whether he seems ready to be ridden again as yet.”
They excused her, probably happy to have time alone together, and she hurried out to the barn. She did check on Dark Star first, but before giving him the good grooming he needed, she stood beside him and sent a mental call to Camsen.
Almost immediately he responded with a question: Where are you?
Camsen! It’s such a relief to get a response. I haven’t been able to reach you for some time. I’m on the outskirts of Pescatil. Where are you? When will you reach Pescatil?
We’re close. I’m guessing not more than an hour away. Have you found Lore?
“No. And I can’t get any response from him when I mindsend. I just hope he isn’t dead.”
It’s not looking good. Thornbridge says we shouldn’t expect much in Pescatil. According to him, the town’s almost deserted.
Thornbridge! That was unexpected. He’s alive? You have him with you?
The mental equivalent of a chuckle, and then the voice that spoke in her mind was definitely not Camsen’s. Very much alive, my dear, and still determined to get my horse back. I must say, though, that your horsemanship is impressive—not that I like the impression Triumph’s hoofs made on my chest.
Renni made no attempt to hide her feelings. I hoped Dark Star had killed you. She didn’t know how to send just to Camsen. She did know that Thornbridge had a great deal of power, and she did not know the extent of his abilities. This new development complicated matters. She’d thought to wait with Master and Mistress Carran so that they could all ride into town in the wagon. But she did not want Thornbridge to find her—or Dark Star.
I’m not dead, but I can barely sit up, much less stand. Camsen and I have just been chatting. I told him why you aren’t going to find much of anything or anyone in Pescatil.
So he didn’t know about the return. And was he telling the truth about being so badly injured? He could be. She’d figured the blow Dark Star had given him would have left him mortally wounded. But if he was recovering …
She didn’t trust him, and she couldn’t ask Camsen what the situation really was. Maybe she
should just take Dark Star and ride into town to learn for herself exactly what the situation was there. But Anya and Mel wanted so badly to go into town, and Mel didn’t look like he was ready for a long walk. She made up her mind.
Camsen, she sent, “I’m with two people who want a ride to town. They’ll have quite a story to tell you. Thornbridge is wrong about the town being deserted, but we may run into trouble. The townspeople who died eight years ago have somehow just come back to life. I don’t understand it, but it’s true. You’ll learn more about it from my hosts here. We can meet you on the main road. Watch for us by a lamppost beside a side road. Is Ril still with you?
He is. He’s riding in the driver’s seat with Jeppy, and I’m in the wagon with Thornbridge.
That had to be Camsen’s way of telling her that he was keeping Jeppy and Ril away from Thornbridge, and he was keeping an eye on Thornbridge. Interesting, though, that he trusted Jeppy to keep on course for Pescatil.
We’ll see you soon, Camsen sent. Oh, and by the way, you should probably know that Ril is Thornbridge’s son.
Now that was a shock. And why had Camsen felt it important that she know that information now? Maybe it was his way of telling her he had some hold over Thornbridge. Or explaining why it was important to keep father and son separated.
So many questions she wanted to ask Camsen, but the questions would have to wait until she could have a private talk with Camsen. No more mindspeaking now that she knew Thornbridge could pick up her mental sendings. She finished caring for Dark Star, washed up at the pump outside the barn, and returned to the house to tell the Carrans that she had arranged a ride for them. She hoped she wasn’t putting them in danger. Maybe she should warn them that Thornbridge was not to be trusted.
Renni found them still seated at the kitchen table. Anya had made tea, and offered her a cup as soon as she entered.
She accepted gratefully and took a seat at the table, while Anya rose, poured and brought to the table a steaming cup of tea, and pointed to the sugar bowl, telling her to help herself.
Renni added a spoonful of sugar to the tea and stirred it as she told them the wagon was coming and would pick them up by the lamppost. They beamed with pleasure and, strangely, she thought, did not ask her how she had arranged that welcome ride. Maybe the mysterious return of her husband after being dead for eight years made nothing else seem strange to Anya. As for Mel, he was still struggling with the concept of having returned to find eight years gone by and learning how fortunate he was, according to Anya, to find his wife waiting and their home intact, while most of the returnees would discover homes fallen victim to the ravages of time and long abandonment. He had seen for himself the sad state of the neighboring houses he’d passed on his trek home from the field of death.
“I’m not sure I want to see what I’ll find in town,” Mel said. “Seems, though, I ought to know just how bad things are and lend a helping hand where I can.”
“You need to get your strength back before you do any heavy work,” Anya said, a worried frown creasing her forehead.
“No more so than anyone else, and they’ll all be doing what they can. I shouldn’t do any less, Anya.”
“Well, I can certainly lend a hand, and maybe you and your friends can help out.” She addressed that suggestion to Renni.
“We’ll do what we can, I’m sure,” Renni said. She took a deep breath and added, “There’s a man in the wagon who was badly hurt. My friend is caring for him. Certainly my friend and I will do what we can, but we have to watch the injured man. He may try to do harm to us. He blames us for his injury.” That seemed safer than trying to explain Thornbridge more fully.
“Oh, my. Then maybe we shouldn’t impose by asking for a ride into town,” Anya said. “Maybe they should come here and let us see what we can do for the injured man.”
“No. It’s all right.” Renni said hastily. “I don’t want to bring Thornbridge—the injured man—here. It could put you in danger.”
“Thornbridge?” Mel asked. “That wouldn’t be Jac Thornbridge, would it now?”
“I don’t think I ever heard his given name,” Renni said. “I wouldn’t think he’d be anyone you’d know.”
“Well, Jac Thornbridge has an uncle and aunt living here in Pescatil. He visits about once a year. I mean, he used to, before—” He broke off and put a hand over his mouth.
“Oh my, yes. They were among the dead,” Anya said. “If they’re alive again, won’t Jac get a surprise! If it is Jac. Thornbridge isn’t a common name, so it does seem possible. But why do you say he might be a danger to us?”
Renni hardly knew what to say. She sent a mental query to Camsen. What’s Thornbridge’s given name?
The answer came from Thornbridge himself. It’s Jac. Why do you want to know?
My hosts think they may know you, Renni sent, and shut off further communication, or tried. Thornbridge tried to ask more, but she blocked as best she knew how.
She rose from the table. “It may well be the man you know,” she told Anya and Mel. “Do you still want the ride to town?”
“Yes, indeed. More than ever. Unless you let us bring him here …”
“No, absolutely not,” Renni said. She wanted Thornbridge nowhere near Dark Star. Now knowing she was gifted and could control the horse, he’d be more determined than ever to recover his horse. She didn’t want him to know Dark Star’s whereabouts.
That was something she needed to make clear to Anya and Mel. “If the injured man does turn out to be the man you know, please don’t mention anything at all about my horse. Don’t let him know where the horse is or where your house is. Please. It’s very important.”
Mel scratched his head in puzzlement.
Anya said, “Well, all right, but if it is Jac, he knows where we live, and if he knows you have a horse, he’ll figure out it’s stabled in our barn. But if he’s badly injured, what do you think he’s going to do?”
“I don’t know how bad his injury is,” Renni said. “I just know I don’t want him anywhere near my horse.”
“Maybe it’s not Jac. He never struck me as a bad sort,” Mel put in then. “We’d better head for the road now, if we’re to meet your friend with the wagon.”
“My, yes. Just let me grab my parasol. Sun’s fierce today.” With that, Anya bustled off but was back in moments with a brightly flowered parasol, which she raised as soon as they stepped outside and headed down the path to the road.
It wasn’t a long walk to the main road and the corner where the lamppost stood, but Mel was short of breath by the time they reached it and was hanging on to Anya’s arm.
Renni was staring down the road, hoping to catch sight of the horses and wagon, when a voice spoke in her mind. Jac Thornbridge here. We’ll reach you soon. The people of Pescatil know nothing of my life in Marquez. I want to keep it that way. Say nothing to anyone about my illegal activities. You have recovered everything we took from you except for the corpse that was in the coffin. Recovering that is no longer possible, I feel certain. But in exchange you have my prized horse, Triumph. Let’s call it even and say nothing to anyone regarding our past encounters. We’ll call my injuries the result of an unfortunate accident. You will find no legal authorities in Pescatil to whom to make charges against me, so let there be peace between us at least until we all leave Pescatil.
Accept a horse, no matter how wonderful, in exchange for Kyla? That was hardly fair even if Kyla was indeed dead, but if she wasn’t—or hadn’t been before the theft and consequent mistreatment of her corpse—then it was unthinkable. She was still deciding how to respond when a distant dust cloud on the road came nearer and two horses became visible in it, followed by the familiar wagon.
“Here they come!” she told Anya and Mel, while she waved at the figures now visible on the seat behind the horses.
To Thornbridge she sent, I won’t promise anything until we know more about the situation here in Pescatil. It’s too weird. But I will keep quiet at least for n
ow.
She received no response, and moments later Jeppy, in the driver’s seat, with Ril beside him, brought the horses to a halt. Ril jumped down and ran to Renni.
“Hey, Miss Natches. You gonna ride with us? Where’s your horse?”
Renni rolled her eyes. Thornbridge better find a way to keep the boy quiet, or there’d be no keeping anything secret for long.
“Yes, we’re going to ride with you. Mind your manners. I’m a guest of Master and Mistress Carran, and they will be going into town with us. Please greet them properly.”
By this time Camsen had climbed out of the wagon and was heading toward her. “Ril,” he called out, “go get in the wagon and see to your father.”
“In a minute,” the irrepressible boy called back. “Miss Renni, did you know Thornbridge is my father? I just found out.”
“You’re Jac Thornbridge’s son?” Anya asked, her eyes widening.
By this time Camsen had reached them. He grabbed hold of Ril’s arm, swung him around, and pushed him toward the wagon, giving him a swat on the rear to hasten his departure. Of course Camsen would have heard the mental demand Thornbridge had made of Renni, but if he’d responded, Renni hadn’t received the message. She suspected none had been sent.
“You’ll have to pardon the lad, sir, madam,” Camsen said. “He’s never learned to curb his tongue. I’m Camsen Wellner. I’ll be happy to give you a ride to town, but the ride won’t be a comfortable one, I’m afraid. The wagon needs a good cleaning, and we all need baths after being so long on the road. So while I’m happy to help you out, I must apologize for the unpleasant state of the conveyance.”
“What Camsen is trying to say is that the wagon will be crowded and it’ll stink,” Renni translated with a grin. “Good thing we don’t have to go far.”
Deniably Dead (Arucadi Series Book 4) Page 18
