by Dana Davis
“I’ll ask you again, man.” Snowy turned his head to the woman’s voice. A crown of gilded flowers wreathed this woman’s lengthy, blond curls. She was beautiful. “Why are you here?” she said in a dangerous voice.
“I told you why,” Taniras’s quivering voice rang out, and Snowy moved his eyes turned toward the sound.
He had to strain his neck to see her. She was held between two women, her face tear-streaked. Her dress was still in place and there was no blood that Snowy could see.
“They followed me. Please, stop hurting them. I’ll do whatever you want. Just please don’t beat them again.”
Snowy couldn’t see Birek anywhere. If they had killed him…
The crowned woman grabbed his hair and jerked his head back until he groaned. “Is what she says true? Did you follow without knowing where you were headed?”
He nodded, or tried to. “Yes. She ran into a cave.” The fuzziness in his head had faded and he was mostly aware of pain. “She said something pulled at her. We followed. I was supposed to protect them. Blazes!” At his curse, the woman tightened her grip and he decided to acquiesce. He must protect the others. “We got lost in a tunnel. Then some sort of fog. All we could do was follow Taniras. She was the only one who seemed to know where she was going.”
“He tells the truth,” the crowned man said.
“Very well.” The woman released Snowy’s hair and he studied her more closely. She wore a colorful gown with gold braiding. Her blonde hair hung in curls down her back and clear eyes held wisdom that belied her youth. She looked young, almost as young as Taniras, but her hard and unforgiving face told Snowy she could be very dangerous.
“Untie them,” she said. “And take them to the dome. Ved’mana can heal them there.” Clear eyes focused on Snowy. “If you cause any trouble, you’ll be beaten again. Do you understand? You’re not supposed to be here. Middlings aren’t allowed in this place. By law we could have killed you if you hadn’t had Gypsy-children with you.”
“Gypsy-children?” What was the woman talking about? Snowy had brought no children. And he didn’t like the sound of Gypsies involved in anything. He’d heard tales about Gypsies, some good, but many disturbing.
“That one.” A long arm pointed to Taniras, who now stood wiping her face with a cloth. “She’s one of us. As is that one.” The long arm pointed to Birek. He stood in the shadows with a stony look on his face, frozen.
“What have you done to him? If you’ve harmed him—”
“He’s simply under the urging. He tried to fight and we couldn’t allow that. He hasn’t been harmed.”
“But you’ll beat a girl.” Snowy didn’t hide the venom in his voice as he glanced at Camlys. “She’s barely out of childhood.”
“You came uninvited. She’ll be healed, along with you and the other one. Then we must decide what to do with the three of you.”
“You bloody better let them go!” Taniras shot.
The crowned woman stepped to her. “You’ll quell that temper and do as you’re told, youngling. This is not your concern.”
“But they’re my friends.”
Snowy’s anger burned but the woman’s voice softened. “Then we’ll take that into consideration, since you didn’t know where you were leading them.”
Taniras shook her head. “I didn’t. I had no idea where I was going, only that I had to come. I wish I hadn’t. We were on our way to see the Hunters.”
“You can’t become a Hunter, youngling.” She sounded surprised Taniras would even suggest it. “You’re a Gypsy-child.”
“I don’t even know what that means. But if this is how Gypsies treat innocent people, then I’ll have nothing to do with this place, or you.” Her trembling chin jutted out.
Another woman, the same height as Taniras, chestnut hair hanging down her back, stepped close. “You won’t speak to Ved’nuri that way.”
“This is your clan mother, youngling,” Ved’nuri said, her crown catching the firelight. “You’ll call her Mother Haranda.”
“I will not. She’s most certainly not my mother.”
The crowned woman stepped close to Taniras and held a hand toward her. “You will obey, youngling.” Taniras cried out but didn’t argue again. “Very good. Now go with your clan mother.”
The chestnut-haired woman took hold of Taniras’s arm and started to walk away. Snowy gave a nod to his friend when she turned a worried gaze back to him.
But it changed to fuming anger when Camlys moaned. She began to weep and he wanted to reach out and comfort her. These Gypsies will pay for what they’ve done! “Camlys, just go slow. They promise we’ll be healed soon.”
“Snowy? What the blazes happened?”
Two women untied Camlys, pulled her bodice up, then cradled her between them. “It’s all right, child,” one crooned. “We’re taking you to be healed.”
When she stumbled, a man lifted her and carried her toward a hill. At least it looked like a hill in the moonlight. The fires burned so brightly Snowy had trouble seeing much beyond the cottages and the people standing around him. He jerked when someone touched his hands.
“I’m going to release you,” the crowned man said. He nodded for two other men to untie Snowy’s restraints. “If you fight, Ved’nuri will use the urging on you again. And I guarantee you won’t enjoy it.”
Snowy glanced at Greges. He didn’t want to get the others into trouble again. Or himself, however much that shamed him to think. “I won’t fight.” Two men supported him and another two helped Greges as they walked painfully toward the same hill Camlys had been carried across.
Chapter 22
In her dream, a large, dark evil permeated the safe world of a young child, and Cass ran. She tried to scream but no sound came out. Her short legs pumped harder and faster, yet she barely moved.
Somewhere in the recesses of her mind, she knew she should be older, larger, stronger. But not now. Not here.
He gained on her as he always had for as long as she could remember and she bolted into the barn, where she hid in an empty stall. His footsteps crunched on the hay. Heavy, steady, advancing on her. Her heart sprinted, beating like a frantic drum in her small chest. For an instant, she thought it might push through and land on the ground in front of her. Then she would be dead. The terror over.
Footsteps came closer and she began to weep. Large legs came into view. Cass squatted, immobile with fear, as her eyes followed the massive legs up and up toward the oversized stomach and bare chest. Before she had time to react, the hand reached for her. A heavy hand. Familiar. A man’s arm. An old evil that should no longer threaten her.
She buried her face in her arms. The heavy hand was there, always reaching for her, grabbing for her, groping her, touching her in ways that made her feel dirty and unloved. And it had her again.
Cass screamed in silence and opened her eyes. Sweat stuck her hair to her temples and neck. It took several heartbeats to realize she was sitting up in bed, covers clutched in her fists. Dim morning light made its way in through the shutters of the room. The Sea Biscuit Tavern.
Another bloody nightmare. When would they stop?
Quietly, she slipped from the blankets. She relieved herself in the night pot, washed her hands and arms in the water basin, then splashed the cool liquid on her face. Her body trembled and she gripped the table with her hands.
“I’m going to bloody find you, you puss-ridden, son of a stinger bush,” she uttered. “I’ll destroy you for what you did to me.” The words gave her courage.
The fire had gone out and her room was chilly, so she pulled her faded peasant dress, the only one she owned, over her underbreeches and laced up the bodice. She shoved stocking feet into worn boots and sheathed a knife into each. The wide, leather belt, she wrapped around her middle and secured a third knife in it. A fourth, she tucked into her cleavage.
Her wooden comb was missing a few teeth but she scooped it up, and glancing into the obsidian mirror, hastily ran it through h
er long, russet hair. Afterwards, she tucked the thing into her bag and quickly tied her hair back with a leather lace. The face in the mirror looked back at her, revealing tiny lines around her eyes and mouth, lines that made her look older than her twenty-two years. An advantage, especially on the road. Several seasons out of doors had tanned her skin and streaked her hair with gold.
She turned away from her reflection and scooped up her bag, which held little food and money, just a water bladder, three strips of jerky, a silver coin and two coppers. Cass sighed before looping the long strap over her head. She snagged her cloak from the old trunk at the foot of the bed and wrapped it around her, tying it securely at the neck.
The room had been paid for in advance, tavern rules, as was morning meal, which Mistress Norine would have ready. If Cass ate enough to get her through the day’s travels, perhaps she wouldn’t have to steal again. Tipping wasn’t an acceptable practice here in Bankar so that would save her a copper. She left a pocket open on the front of her bag in hopes of sneaking a couple of buns into it. The key sat on the dresser. She left it, as per Mistress Norine’s instructions, stepped into the hall and made her way down the creaky, wooden stairs.
Servants bustled from table to table and to and from the kitchen, though no patrons besides Cass were up this early. Most who stayed here were men and many had gotten drunk last night. Cass had downed some of the spiced wine and acted a bit tipsy herself, singing old sailor tunes right along with them. She wasn’t drunk, of course. That would dull her senses. But the men never suspected and a few got in gropes and pinches before she excused herself to bed. At least she didn’t have to use a knife on any of them. Bankari men, large enough to subdue Cass without much effort, seemed to respect a woman’s wishes in bedroom affairs, something that took her by surprise when she’d first arrived here.
“Ah, there you are, love.” The tavern mistress was large, as all Bankari, and Cass found herself looking up. “Slept well, I hope.”
She smiled. “Yes, thank you, Mistress Norine.”
The tall, plump woman smelled of fresh bread, which Cass found comforting. She’d never known her mother but this woman, despite her harsh temper with drunkards, would have done nicely enough. Anyway, there was nothing overly deceptive about the woman or Cass would have sensed it.
Mistress Norine placed hands on her ample hips. “Eat hearty before you continue your travels, love. You’re nothing but skin and bone.” One large hand clapped Cass’s rump. “If you stay here awhile, I’ll fatten you up.”
“I appreciate the offer, Mistress, but I must get to my family.” She didn’t tell the woman her family consisted of a single man she intended to kill.
“Ah, well. Family is important. My boys will be disappointed, though. What with you bein’ so pretty. Any one of them would make you a fine husband. All are good seafaring men and have finished their marriage boats. You could marry one or two and have a few babes. That would certainly fill you out. I’d never let you go hungry.” She held up her weathered hands. “Not as long as these can still fish the docks and work an oven.”
“That’s very kind, Mistress, but I must leave today to continue my search.”
Bantering with men came natural to Cass from her days spent gambling and drinking in various establishments, but the thought of marrying one didn’t appeal to her. She simply didn’t trust any man. And with Bankari tradition of two husbands, marriage had even less attraction here. Even if she came to trust a man enough for marriage, she doubted she would ever trust two.
“Well, if you change your mind, you just come back to my tavern. Now, sit and I’ll have a nice meal out for you shortly.”
“Thank you, Mistress.”
She took the table at the far corner near the open window. From here, she could see the entire dining area and street. No one would get in or out of the tavern without her knowing, unless they left by way of the kitchen. She wasn’t concerned with servant girls. It was a man she searched for and he wasn’t in this sea town any longer. His stench told her he was east, toward Faint Mountains.
She pulled the map from her bag and pressed the creases out on the table. It was an old, fibrous map but the ink was still legible, and not much had changed since the artist had drawn it. The thing only cost a half-copper besides, a coin well spent. She studied the map and found Bankar right near Trade Inlet off the Great Sea. His stench was much stronger from the east. Perhaps he was even as far as Maricar. She shook her head. Her senses didn’t reach that far. He had to be this side of Faint Mountains.
If he ventured into the mountains, he probably wouldn’t stay there long, too many wild animals, and he wasn’t good enough to join the Hunters. He never stayed in one place for long, anyway, which made him all the more difficult to locate. Cass couldn’t explain the feelings, but she trusted them, had trusted them for a long while now.
Her hand fell to her belt knife and she caressed the ivory handle. This one had been a prize in a throwing contest two villages ago near Henchman’s Pass. The man she defeated hadn’t wanted to give it up to a woman, claiming women were good for only one thing. He tried to reach down Cass’s bodice, but a swift kick between his legs convinced him otherwise. She left him doubled over on the ground, groaning and cursing.
That memory made her smile. No man would ever take advantage of her again. That was a promise she had made to herself when her father left. He seemed to lose interest once her body began to change, and by the time she had a woman’s roundness, he’d been gone several years. She began searching for him several moons after her nineteenth birthday, when for reasons only the gods knew, she could sense those who had evil on their minds, those who were purely deceptive. Had it been three years already?
The morning after that birthday, a vision of white light filled her with peace, strength and awareness then left her unconscious. When she awoke, she lay weak and trembling on the floor of her bedroom. Several heartbeats passed before she could get to her feet without falling over. Since then, the earth beneath her seemed to vibrate whenever evil was nearby and her senses took over.
It had taken her five moons but she learned to tell normal deceptive behavior from that of harmful intentions. Every person had something to hide, Cass had discovered, but many were a brief and simple nudge to her mind. Murderers, rapists and thieves were different, clamping onto her senses with enduring stench. She hadn’t brought herself to kill any of them but there was one she knew would change all that.
“Here you are, Mistress Cass.” LaNell put a plate of food on the table.
This girl was one of Mistress Norine’s daughters and even taller than her mother. Her hair and skin were dark, like her two fathers, which was quite a contrast to Mistress Norine’s graying blonde locks and sunburned, freckled flesh. LaNell’s breasts, full and round as most Bankari women’s, pressed against her bodice and threatened to spill over the top. She was nice to look at and probably caught many a man’s eye.
“Thank you, LaNell” Cass folded her map and tucked into her bag.
The tall girl poured spiced wine into a mug. “Mother says she expects you to eat everything.” She turned and headed back into the kitchen.
Cass smiled. She couldn’t remember the last time anyone cared enough to see that she ate. Of course, she’d known hunger so there was no reason for Mistress Norine to worry. Cassbet Legrange always finished her meals.
One other patron came down the stairs and took a table across the room, against the wall beneath the staircase. Cass didn’t recognize him and she didn’t forget faces. This one was handsome enough, and the muscular arms that bulged from his sleeveless tunic meant he was no stranger to labor. Still, he wasn’t as large as a Bankari man. She guessed him to be a traveler, probably a Hunter from the scars on his chin and right forearm, though he didn’t wear the traditional ring through his nose.
He didn’t seem to notice her, which she found odd. Men always noticed her, and tavern men especially talked of bedding her. She felt a nudge on her mind tha
t was gone in an instant. At least this one wasn’t here to harm anyone. She pulled her gaze from the stranger, stuffed a warm bun and a hunk of cheese into her bag, then began to eat the eggs and fish steak.
The stranger, who’d been given as much food as Cass, finished his with haste and asked for seconds. Mistress Norine seemed pleased with his appetite and made one of her other daughters, LaWen, stand near his table, ready to serve him more. LaWen looked very much like her sister, LaNell, only a bit older. His eyes looked the girl over and he smiled but that was all. LaWen seemed disappointed.
Cass couldn’t help chuckling to herself. Women were always looking for a man to marry. Didn’t they realize a husband would expect relations in the bedroom? Bedding a man was humiliating and painful. Cass realized the stranger watched her, just for a heartbeat, and much to the dismay of Mistress Norine’s daughter. She had filled her stomach and her plate was empty, so she rose and headed for the exit.
“You take care, love,” Mistress Norine called from the kitchen doorway.
“I will, Mistress. Thank you.”
“May the luck of the catch be with you.”
“And you.” Cass smiled and ducked out into the street.
The rains had stopped sometime yesterday but the cobblestone roads and walkways still held pockets of water. The salty air was brisk and she pulled her hood up, stepping quickly toward the east end of town, away from the sea.
There were no city gates in this place. The Bankari didn’t seem to want or need them. Those who lived here were predominantly sailors, occupied with boats and the tide. Visitors were mostly Hunters, who traded logs and furs for fish and pearls, and no one bothered them. No one with any brains, anyway.
