Nocturne

by Louise Cooper

  Stead’s shoulders heaved and he swallowed. His self-control had returned now. and he nodded, taking care not to look at Chari’s still, pale figure laid out on the bench.

  “Forgive me, Mischyn. The shock; the worry—” He made a helpless gesture. “I didn’t mean …”

  “Of course you didn’t. And I assure you that everything possible will be done for your daughter. We’ll take her to my own house, and—”

  “No,” Stead interrupted. “I’ll carry her back to the caravans.”

  “As you wish, of course. But—”

  “No,” Stead said again, mulishly. “She’ll go to her own home. That’s where she wants to be; I know my girl. And then we’re leaving.” He looked quickly at Forth and Cour, daring them to argue. “I’m taking my little Chari to a physician, and I’m getting her cured!”

  No one spoke, but a few heads nodded gravely. Brushing aside Forth’s attempts to help him, Stead gathered Chari’s limp form into his arms, then gave the assembled company one last, unhappy glare before striding away back towards the lea. Forth looked at Burgher Mischyn but could think of nothing to say; instead he made an apologetic gesture and, with Cour beside him, hastened off in Stead’s wake.

  Indigo watched the three Brabazons disappear with their burden into the crowd, but made no attempt to follow them. Since Stead’s arrival she had stayed in the background; in the ensuing confusion they had forgotten her, and she had had no wish to intrude. But, watching the dismal little scenario outside the tavern, she had suddenly and painfully come face to face with the cold reality of her own conscience. Whatever anyone else might think or say, she felt that she alone was to blame for the ill fortune which had befallen the Brabazons. She should have warned them the moment she had realized that her goal lay in Bruhome; she should have used every wile she could find to persuade them not to stay in the town. Better still, she should have refused to give way to weakness and left the troupe, with or without an explanation, when her intuition had first warned her of what might lie ahead. But no: she had chosen instead to put off the moment, hiding behind a complacent illusion and promising herself that she could continue in her hiatus for a little longer, just a little longer, without endangering her friends. If she’d been honest, she thought bitterly, she would have acknowledged the truth long ago, and Chari and her family wouldn’t now be suffering for her selfishness.

  She wished Grimya were here. She needed the wolf’s support, her advice and her down-to-earth wisdom to help her decide what to do for the best. But Grimya had stayed at the camp, preferring to play with the younger children rather than trail about the market: and besides, Indigo didn’t need to ask her in order to know what she would say. Grimya would tell her what she already knew; that she must part from the Brabazons now, and see them safe away from Bruhome before anything worse could befall them. However much the parting hurt on either side, it had to be done. There could be no more excuses.

  Charity’s overturned bag had been forgotten in the chaos, and still lay beside the now empty bench. Indigo bent to gather the spilled contents and pack them back inside, then straightened and looked through the mill of townsfolk in the direction Stead and the others had taken. A cold, dark sense of premonition moved within her, like something unclean awakening. Then she hefted the bag, slipping the strap over her shoulder, and set off across the square.

  All the way back to the meadow Indigo silently rehearsed what she would say to the Brabazons, how she would break the news that she wouldn’t be coming with them when they left Bruhome. The words were inadequate and fell far short of the whole truth, but they were the best she could find and, whatever they might think of her, would have to suffice.

  But when the camp came in sight, she realized immediately that something else was amiss. She’d expected to see a flurry of activity, the vans being loaded, the oxen harnessed, the ponies marshaled into tethered lines behind the last caravan. Instead, she saw the family—those who weren’t in the girls’ van attending to Chari—gathered around the leading wagon. Voices were raised in agitated argument, and suddenly Grimya emerged from the group. She had sensed Indigo’s arrival, and came running to meet her.

  Grimya? Indigo spoke silently to the she-wolf. What’s going on?

  I am not sure, Grimya told her. Something is wrong with Chari, and there was talk of leaving the town. I couldn’t understand all that was said. But now it seems that one of the caravans can’t move. The axle is broken, Stead says.

  Indigo’s dark premonition abruptly deepened into something uglier. She quickened her pace towards the vans, and Grimya, trotting beside her, said, Indigo, what happened to Chari? I thought you were with her in the market, but when you didn ‘t come back with the others—

  I was with them. Chari… Grimya, she has the sickness. The sleeping sickness that is plaguing the town.

  Her communication conveyed far more than words, and Grimya sensed instantly the painful self-recrimination underlying the message. Loyally she started to protest, to argue that Indigo couldn’t have predicted such a twist of events, but before she could form more than a few emphatic thoughts, Forth looked up, saw them and came hurrying over. His face was haggard.

  “The ill luck’s all running our way, Indigo,” he told her tersely.

  “What’s happened?”

  “Crossbar on the axle’s split. The Mother alone knows how it could’ve happened, but we can’t move until it’s mended.”

  “How long will that take?”

  “Hard to say. There’s a good wheelwright in the town, thanks be. Provided he hasn’t fallen sick or disappeared, it might—”

  “Forth!”

  Forth broke off as his father shouted to him from where he crouched by the stricken van. Stead got to his feet and came towards them. He was sweating, but his face under its tan was pallid. Nodding a quick, curt greeting to Indigo, he said,

  “It’ll take half a day’s work to set this right. I’m not waiting that long; not while my Chan’s lying in there like the dead.” He wiped his forehead with grimy hands; the day was hot and threatening to become oppressive. “Listen, boy: I want you to take the best pony, and ride ahead of us. There’s a town thirty miles north that’s big enough to have its own physician; you find him, and you start back here with him and meet us on the road.”

  “Right, Da.” Forth looked relieved, thankful to have something practical and positive to do. “I’ll take the stallion; he’s wilful but he’s fast and he’s got the stamina.” He made to hurry off towards the tethered ponies, and suddenly Indigo said:

  “Forth—I’ll come with you.”

  He looked at her. For a moment she saw a glimmer of resentment, as though, recalling their clash of the previous night, Forth thought she was implying that he needed protection, and quickly she added, “There’s nothing I can do here, and I want to help Chari.”

  Stead said, “Thank you, lass. Thank you!” and Forth relented.

  “All right. Come on; there’s no point wasting time.”

  As they ran towards the ponies, Indigo wondered if she’d made a wise decision. It had been pure impulse, fueled by an intuitive feeling that, while the Brabazons were forced to remain in Bruhome, they might be safer if she wasn’t in their midst. There was no logic to the conviction, but she’d learned through hard experience that instinct was often a surer guide than logic—and besides, any help she could give now might be some small recompense for the troubles she had brought on the family. Damn the lodestone and its instructions, she thought: her business in Bruhome could wait a while.

  Forth saddled two ponies while Indigo filled waterskins and gathered a small parcel of basic rations. She also took a moment to fetch the short-shafted but powerful crossbow that she’d bought several years before in Davakos, after sailing on the Pride of Simhara from Khimiz to the western continent. She’d learned to use a bow at an early age and was an excellent shot; her skill together with Forth’s knife-fighting expertise and Grimya’s presence should give them all the p
rotection they could need on the journey.

  Grimya, a little to Indigo’s surprise, accepted her decision to accompany Forth without question or comment. The wolf merely said that she preferred activity to waiting, and Indigo had a suspicion that she, too, would feel happier to be away from the caravans. She also agreed with Indigo’s second intention, which was to speak to Forth on the ride and explain as best she could why she would be returning to Bruhome rather than continuing on with the vans. It would be easier, she thought, to say what she had to say to one person alone at first, rather than face the protests and persuasions of the whole Brabazon family. Forth, perhaps more than any of the others, might at least try to understand her reasons and help her to face the others when the time came.

  They set off without lengthy farewells, and as the ponies turned out of the meadow Indigo looked back for her last view of the encampment. She saw Stead and three of his sons crouched beside the stricken caravan with Esty and Honi nearby; they were absorbed and hardly aware of the riders’ departure. Only Esty looked up briefly and waved to them before turning her attention back to the others.

  The lea fell behind them, and Forth turned on to the road that would lead them away from the town. Indigo blinked back moisture that clung tenaciously to her eyelashes, then resolutely set her back to the camp and her friends, and urged her pony into a rapid trot.

  For the better part of an hour Indigo and Forth rode without speaking. Forth set a rapid pace, wanting to cover as much ground as possible while the ponies were fresh, and there was little opportunity for conversation: none the less Indigo was aware of a residual tension between them which told her that, while Forth might have forgiven her harsh words of the previous night, he’d by no means forgotten them. And she was acutely aware that the barrier which had sprung up between them would make what she had to say to him all the harder.

  But for the moment there was little she could do to bridge the gulf, and so she made herself concentrate instead on the landscape around them. The road north from Bruhome ran between two distinctly different kinds of country which merged together in a vista typical of this land. To the west was the gradually rising green sweep of the fells, broken here and there by the starker grey of a rocky outcrop or scarp; while eastwards the gentler spread of lowlying orchards and hop fields stretched away to a hazy horizon. The day was unusually hot even for the unpredictable autumn; there wasn’t a breath of wind, and as the morning wore on the sky was losing its clarity and taking on a brassy overcast. The travelers’ shadows were no longer visible on the road, and Indigo surmised that it wouldn’t be long before the good weather broke. If there was to be a storm, she hoped they’d reach their destination before it arrived.

  Shortly after noon they reached a shallow ford where one of the numerous fell streams crossed the road, and stopped for a while to rest and eat, and to water the ponies. Grimya wandered off alone to explore rabbit-holes at the edge of the fells, while Indigo took some bread and cheese from her supplies. Forth sat at a distance from Indigo that made idle conversation impossible, and she realized that if she waited for the tension between them to fade of its own accord, then what she had to say to him might never be said. She couldn’t procrastinate any longer.

  She got up and, trying to seem casual, walked a little way along the edge of the ford before turning and coming back to where Forth sat. He didn’t look at her, but continued to stare along the road ahead of them, chewing slowly on a hunk of bread.

  She said: “Forth, I need to talk to you.”

  This time he did look up, and made an expansive gesture. “Of course.” But there was a touch of wary hostility in his voice.

  “When we reach the town—when we’ve found a physician—” She hesitated. “Forth, I… that is, when—” Damn, she thought damn her cowardice. It had to be said.

  “Forth, listen.” She dropped to a crouch in front of him. “When we’ve found a physician and brought him back to meet the others on the road, I won’t be traveling on with you.”

  At last the words were out. And Forth was staring at her, his expression uncomprehending. “What?”

  “I’m trying to say that the time has come for me to leave the Brabazon Fairplayers.”

  There was an acute silence while what she had said registered fully in Forth’s mind. Then he said, in an utterly changed tone, “Why?”

  All trace of hostility had suddenly vanished, resentment transformed into unhappy bewilderment. Indigo stared at the ground between her feet. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to say it so bluntly; but there doesn’t seem much point in couching it in flowery phrases. I have to leave. It’s—”

  He interrupted her before she could finish. “Indigo, what have we done?‘’

  “Done?” Indigo looked up at him, and realized that he’d misinterpreted her meaning. “Nothing! It isn’t—”

  “It’s me, isn’t it? Last night, when we … Indigo, I swear to the Great Mother that I didn’t mean to quarrel with you! All right; I was angry then, I thought you were trying to tell me how I should behave and I didn’t think you had the right, but—”

  “Forth.” She put out a hand and gripped his arm. “It isn’t that. Last night had nothing to do with it.”

  He clearly didn’t believe her. “Indigo, you can’t let something so trivial turn you against us—it isn’t fair! Whatever you think about me, it isn’t fair on the others!”

  “Forth, please listen! It’s not because of you. It’s nothing to do with any of you.” Indigo’s throat was tight with emotion, but she fought to keep it under control. “I don’t want to leave you all—”

  “Then—”

  “But I have to. I’ve known that since the day your father took me in, though I didn’t have the courage to tell you before now. Believe me, I wish it could be otherwise, but there’s nothing I can do to change it.”

  “I don’t understand! You’re talking as if… I don’t know; as if there’s some compulsion on you.”

  Indigo shook her head vehemently. “I can’t explain, Forth. Perhaps if there’d been more time I could have found the right words, but as things are, I can only ask you to try not to think too badly of me.”

  Forth considered this for a few moments. Then, with slow deliberation, he said:

  “So you’re going. And whatever this is, whatever’s taking you away from us, you can’t tell us about it, and you won’t change your mind.”

  “I can’t change my mind. I only wish I could.”

  “Yes. I see.” Forth’s expression had grown oddly thoughtful. Then he met her eyes again. “Where will you be going?”

  She paused. In theory it would do no harm to tell him, but caution, and her knowledge of Forth, warned her against it. “I can’t say.”

  “Don’t you trust me?”

  “Oh, Forth…” He was too close to the truth for comfort, but she couldn’t admit it to him. “It isn’t like that.”

  “No. No, of course not. Well … there’s nothing more I can say, then, is there?” Forth swayed backwards and got to his feet in one movement. He narrowed his eyes, looking out towards the fells that rose away to the west. “The sky’s getting angry. If it doesn’t storm before nightfall, I’ll be surprised.”

  Indigo, too, rose. “Forth—”

  “No.” He turned back towards her. “There’s no point talking about it any more. If you’re rested, we ought to be on our way.” For a moment, bitterness showed in his eyes. “Unless you want to go back and collect your things now, and forget about Chari?”

  “No.” Indigo felt shame color her face. “I’ll ride with you. That is, if you’ll allow me to.”

  Forth shrugged. “It’s up to you.” And he strode away towards his pony.

  They set off again in painful silence. Grimya returned at Indigo’s mental call: she had hunted successfully and was still licking the last taste of rabbit from her jowls. Indigo communicated the gist of her conversation with Forth, and the wolf looked sadly at the young man’s stiff-backed figure r
iding some yards ahead of them.

  I am sorry that he’s taken the news so badly, she said. But I think you did the only thing you could. He had to know, and this was the easiest way.

  Yes; but I feel so guilty, Grimya. As if I’ve betrayed their trust and kindness.

  You haven’t, Grimya argued firmly. Not to tell them would have been a far greater betrayal. So: when we meet the caravans again, then we will make our farewells and leave?

  Yes; and return to Bruhome.

  I hope the storm has passed by then, Grimya observed. I sense it will be a very heavy one. The air is already beginning to smell strongly of it.

  Indigo glanced westward. Above the fells the sky now looked like tarnished bronze, and humidity was increasing with the heat so that there seemed to be insufficient air to breathe. Odd breaths of wind were striking occasionally from the east, against the march of the overcast, and she estimated that they’d have no more than a few hours at most before the heavens opened.

  She touched her heels to the pony’s flanks and spurred it into a trot, calling out to Forth. Even voices sounded peculiar in the unnatural stillness; too clear, too carrying: Forth turned his head and she gestured towards the creeping cloud-bank, starting to speak. But Forth was looking beyond her, out towards the fells.

  “Just a moment—” He raised a warning hand and craned, staring, suddenly tense. Then: “Look! Over there!”

  A flicker of something paler moved among the green in the distance. Instinctively Indigo unslung her crossbow, reaching behind her for a bolt, but before she could load the weapon Forth swore softly.

  “It’s another of them!”