“It’s bitter,� Haftor said in a low voice beside her. She had almost forgotten him. She shook her head in denial.
“Mine’s sweet,� she contradicted, holding it out so that he might sample it also.
“It’s not the fruit I was speaking of. Ki, why did you endure that dinner tonight?�
Ki bit the perfruit again, chewed slowly. She did not know how to answer him. If she confided to Haftor her true reasons, would that negate this rite for him? Would it jeopardize her freedom to leave? “It was Cora’s will,� she ventured.
“Cora’s will!� Haftor snorted. He spit the pit of his fruit across the darkened yard. “So they will tame you, make you meek for the good of the family? It’s as fitting as putting a deer to the plow.�
“It… it isn’t what it seems, Haftor.�
“It never is, Ki. Not what it seems to me, nor what it seems to you. Take to your road tonight, Ki. I’ll help you harness the team and provision your wagon from my own larder. Leave now, while their tongues wag over you. I’ll speak not a word of your road to anyone. And I know a way that none would guess. Go while you can. My father did. Sven did. This is not a good place for you.�
“What of you?� Ki asked, puzzled. It was the second time Haftor had voiced these feelings.
Haftor laughed a small, hard laugh. “Me? I’m a coward. Sven refused to ever visit the Harpies. Did Cora ever tell you that? I think not. She felt it keenly that he would not go with her to meet the grandparents that died before his birth, that he did not visit his dead father. Sven was willful, even as a boy. I always wished for his courage. A visit to the Harpies cannot be forced, you know. Sven never went. So he was really alive, just as he is really dead now.� Ki averted her face from the hardness of his words, but Haftor boldly seized her shoulders, turned her back to face him.
“It’s like a poison, Ki. No, not a poison. It’s… when you have it, you feel you would die without it. Only since your rebellion made me stop going have I seen it. There are others that know it now, too, I’ll wager, though few will speak it to Cora’s face. Do you think many of them will return to the Harpies, Rite or no Rite? They have been coming to life, Ki, these last few weeks, and finding it precious. It’s becoming real for them. For some it is heady. Rufus has found that he runs the holdings well, even when he cannot go to his father for advice on a field or the selection of a bull. Lydia holds her head high at last, finally freed of her mother’s nagging tongue, that had belittled her for seven years beyond her deathbed. And Lars. Poor Lars has discovered that he has a heart that must be joined, as well as a body and lands. You’ve put the bitter edges back on our lives, and now we see the sweet ones. You’ve awakened me from a dream that has lasted sixteen years, since first they brought me here, and Cora, to comfort me in my orphanhood, took me to the Harpies to see my father again. With that visit, I was bound. How could I ever leave the one place in the world where my father was still alive to me? And yet…� Haftor struggled a moment. “She never realized what she did to me. She thinks I have forgotten how it was. I have not. I do not hate her, Ki. But I can never love myself as once I did. The things I did at her bidding, the things I accepted…� Haftor shook his head as his voice trailed off. He coughed, clearing his throat.
“Ki, Cora asked you to make this Rite, did she not? She seeks to lure you to the Harpies. Answer me this, Ki. If you could embrace Sven again, could cuddle Rissa’s warm little body against you, tweak young Lars’s nose for his nonsense… would you ever leave Harper’s Ford?�
Haftor’s eyes were dark holes in a white face inches from Ki’s own. The darkness was cold about her. The lonely wail that had sounded inside her echoed again through her. To have them back, to hold and be held, to feel Sven’s warm breath on her face.
“Bones,� said Haftor. “Bones and meat nibbled by worms. But the Harpies dress it anew, sell it to you for more meat, and direct your life to their best advantage. ‘Build up your flocks, Rufus.‘ So your father tells you. Harpies are ever hungry. Open more land to pasture. Bring in more cattle. Why waste your time on sheep? A calf is bigger than a lamb, more satisfying to a Harpy’s hunger.“
Ki’s heart thudded. She wrested herself free of Haftor’s grip, then stepped away from him.
“Cora would not do this if that were true.�
“Cora would never do a thing this evil,� Haftor agreed. “If she knew how evil it was. But she is old, and she has never known any other way. Shall she deny it, admit that when she dies a few years hence she will be truly dead?� It might have been a sob that caught Haftor’s words in his throat. “Who among us can resist such pretty lies? I don’t believe in myself. I don’t believe in your will, either, Ki. So I tell you to go. Go now as I would go myself, were I a stronger man.�
“I gave Cora my word.� Each word dropped from Ki’s mouth like an ice-covered stone. “I cannot go yet.�
“Then, you will never go.� Haftor’s voice fell. “I waste my words, and the courage to tell you to go has been used up. If I left Harper’s Ford, I would have to be responsible for my own life. I could not blame my decisions on my father’s ghost. I would have to answer for all I did, and for all I did not do. So Ki will stay. I cannot say it makes me sorry. I should miss you sorely and grieve at your leaving, even as I shouted to hurry your team into the dark.�
He rubbed his face with both hands as if he were awakening from a long sleep. He stretched wide, and then made a grab at his belt pouch.
“I had forgotten. Marna is too shy, so she sends me back to you.� His fingers fumbled clumsily at his pouch in the dark. There was a glint of moonlight in them.
“A silver comb to hold back your hair. And a wrist piece.�
Ki took the exquisitely worked silver from his hands. It was warm with his body heat. The comb had been worked into a symmetrical, branching vine. Kijield it to the light that escaped around the door, shifting it to watch the silver shine in her hands. The wrist piece was more massive, like a forked bolt of lightning twisted into a curve. Ki hefted them both in her hands.
“I’ve an expert touch at judging weights, Haftor. The full weight of my silver cup is still in these two pieces. Marna has taken nothing for herself.�
“She would not. She took all her pleasure in the making, indulging her fancy for design as usually she cannot.�
“Yet one of the joys of creating is in seeing the thing you have made enjoyed, every day.� Ki bobbed her head to kiss the silver wrist piece. Then she caught Haftor’s thick wrist and deftly imprisoned it in the silver’s curve. He shook his head and tried to draw it from his arm, but Ki held it there firmly.
“It’s an old Romni trick. A good one. If you give me back this gift, you are returning my love to me as something also you will not take.�
“That was the kiss?�
Ki nodded. It felt good to smile, good to give freely again. She wondered that she had not done it in so long.
“Then you have trapped me into accepting it,� Haftor conceded.
“As I intended. And I hope it will remind you and Marna of me after I am gone. For, go I shall, Haftor. You will see.�
A rectangle of light opened in the night. Edward came pattering out onto the porch.
“Ki!� he called imperatively. “Nils bids you to come that he may wish you good evening.�
“I come,� Ki replied. Edward remained standing on the porch, staring at her. Ki shook her head resignedly at Haftor and followed the child back into the house. She heard Haftor’s boots come behind
her.
The room was dazzling after the night, the mumble of voices an assault after the quiet of the porch. The eternal humming in Ki’s ears rose suddenly to match it. Edward threaded his way between knots of talking people to where Nils still sat alone at the head of the table. Nils dismissed the child and nodded Ki to a seat beside him. Ki seated herself, pushing aside used plates and utensils to make a place to rest her elbows.
“Well, old man?� she addressed him directly.
Nils chuckled. “You did very well. No, do not smile at me. Keep your eyes down on the table as if taking an instruction. I congratulate you on your will. Cora thought that surely your pride would send you from that seat. And you left with that young man at a perfect moment. You are a woman among them again, one who can be wrong, one who can be gossiped about and courted by men, and even one who can indiscreetly leave a dinner gathering to be alone with a man.�
Ki hissed at the insulting import of his words, but Nils’s laughter covered the sound. “You did not plan it so, then? No matter. It still set the table to buzzing and speeded up my work immeasurably. And that pretty comb in your hand will set the tongues to wagging all the more merrily.� He laughed again at her discomfort.
Ki raised her lowered eyes to pierce the old man with coldness and contempt. Nils snorted at her and shook his head, letting his own contempt show. “Go to bed, Ki. You are of the ones that cannot be saved. You will ever prize the freedom and honor of one over the good of all. You will never learn by experience. Why Cora seeks to keep you here, I do not know. You will spoil them all with your poison, like a piece of rotting meat thrown into a clean spring.� His old hand angrily waved her away with the gesture one would use to flick away an annoying insect. But even as Ki scraped her chair back, the old hand seized her wrist in a grip of iron.
“What will you do now, Ki? Will you work to undo what we have wrought at this dinner tonight?�
A quick twist of Ki’s wrist freed it from his grip. ‘You have said it yourself, old man. I value my honor as one over what may be the good of all. My word was given. I will not go back on it. I will let you make this rite. But I do not think it will be as effective as you hope it will be.“
Ki stormed away to the privacy of her own room. All marked her passage, none thought to impede it. But Rufus’s quick eyes flicked to her as she passed. He swayed forward from where he leaned beside the hearth. He gave Lars a rough shove with his elbow. Lars glared at him, annoyed at having his morose thoughts so disturbed. Ki could not catch the words, but she saw Lars scowl and redden. She hastened to her room.
Ki frowned into the darkness. Sent to bed like a naughty child after being humiliated. Defiance and anger blazed up in her, hotter than any she had felt on that night long ago. A sudden hatred for Nils and all he stood for ripped through her. She should have fought him then, should have ripped to shreds the fabric he sought to weave. Slowly, she sat up in the darkness of the cuddy. She paid no heed to the cold that stroked her as the covers slid away from her body.
She settled on an elbow and stared down at Vandien. His face was a mask. Hollows full of shadows marked his eyes. His body was a mound under the covers. Those many years ago, Ki had been paralyzed by indecision, had been made a game piece in ruthless hands. But no longer was that so. She would be the one now to take the actions, shape the circumstances. If Vandien was in league with the Harpies… She growled soundlessly in the darkness. She could kill him now, put that suspicion to rest. It would be an easy task to cut his throat now as he slept, to drag the body from the cuddy and leave it beside the frozen trail. If he were the vagabond he claimed to be, no one would miss him. And if he were the Harpy’s servant, she would have struck first to even the odds.
His chest rose and fell hypnotically under the shagdeer cover. She did not reach for her knife in the darkness. Instead, she sank slowly down beside him once more, entering again the warmth their bodies created under the coverings. There was a hoarseness to his breathing; he coughed lightly in his sleep. Ki closed her eyes tightly against the sudden sting of tears. The vulnerable eggs of the Harpies came to her mind. It was the same. No matter what future evil the man might hold for her, she could not strike in this manner. She would be wary, but not rash. She would remember.
She tried to be coldly logical. She listed her doubts. What chance had sent him to attack her that night by her fire? What were the odds of meeting a man in such a desolate place, a man marked with a sign of spread wings. He had precious little to recommend him. And yet…
Ki eased deeper into the bedding. She let her eyes trace the lines of his nose and mouth. She could see those bearded lips smiling, tossing quick mocking words at her. She liked his hands holding a mug or weaving stories on his ridiculous string. There was the way his stride matched hers as they tromped before the horses, the easy way he had fit himself to her life. An old feeling stirred in Ki, one so long-unused that for a moment she did not identify it. And when she did she felt only disgust for her own fickleness. She doused her thoughts, flopping over to put her back to Vandien. She closed her eyes and did not stir again.
Vandien lay silent, staring at the ceiling of the cuddy. He wondered.
Seven
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Ki awoke to the beginning of gray daylight. In the cool air, her memories and dreams of last night came swirling back to her, mingled to incoherence. She flinched at her own emotionalism. She pushed the covers back experimentally. The cold touched her and she slid silently from the sleeping platform to hastily pull on her outer garments. Vandien slept on, an arm flung over his face. Ki dragged the cuddy door open. It slid stiffly.
The wind had ceased in the night. Snow was blown up against the wheels of the wagon, was smeared across the wagon seat. But now all was still and calm, and the cold pressed down harder than ever. The arched sky was a far and pale blue. Empty. Ki scanned it from the cuddy door, then climbed out on the seat to stand on it and survey the whole sky. Pure it was, no clouds, no far dark wings.
She breathed in relief. Then her eyes fell on the gray huddle of horsehide in the snow, the crumpled fallen shapes. “Damn!� she screamed, and leapt down to run to them. With a lunge and a snort, the horses rose, shying away from her sudden movement. Ki laughed in relief. They had been sleeping, legs folded beneath them for warmth. She called them back with gentle words and a handful of grain. They came, shy at first, then eagerly, to munch from her hands. She slid their blankets off and led them to the traces. She harnessed them quickly.
Some time in the night an iron determination had been born in her. She would be on her way, right now to conquer this pass and take her freight through. Woe betide any Harpy that tried to bar her way. Or any man. She heaped the team’s blankets about her on the seat, wondering if it could get any colder.
The wind had erased the wagon tracks behind. Before her the trail wound across the face of the mountain, rippling with tiny low drifts. It would give the team no problems. Ki stretched, feeling her shoulders pop and crackle. She started the team. The wheels rolled almost silently, cutting their narrow grooves through the white snow. The team needed little guidance. On one side of the trail, the ground dropped away abruptly. On the other, the bare stone reared up.
Ki heard the cuddy door slide open behind her. She turned quickly to face Vandien as he emerged, blinking at the snow-brightness and rubbing his face. “By noon today we shall pass the Sisters,� he said with satisfaction. He began coughing, shaking with the effort it demanded. He settled down hastily on the seat beside her, tugging at the blankets and arranging them about like a nest. When he was settled and had his breath, he pointed a hand ahead to where the trail seemed to go off into empty space. “Around that bend of the mountain, and we shall be able to see the Sisters. Though, from this close they won’t look like anything more than a rise of black rock on the cliff face. Once we’re past the Sisters, we t
ravel a short way more across the face of this mountain. Then the trail begins to take us around the side of the mountain, and down. I shall be glad to see the other side of this pass.� He whistled tunelessly for a moment. “Hungry?� he asked Ki suddenly.
She nodded, and he dove back into the cuddy. She could hear him opening cupboards and rummaging in drawers. Ki called back, “There’s cheese wrapped in cloth on the shelf above the window.�
He pushed the laden platter out onto the seat before him. He had heaped it with chunks of cheese, slices of sausage, and two pieces of hard bread. It was all cold, making it harder to chew. Ki ate absentmindedly, one eye on her team and one on the trail ahead. The sharp curve Vandien had pointed out to her was an illusion. As they approached it, Ki found the bend was gradual, following the rounded flank of the mountain. Around the bend the snow began to grow perceptibly deeper with every turn of the wheels. Here the wind had not swept the snow from the trail but had heaped and packed it on the ledge. The grays plowed through it gamely, but Ki felt growing apprehension. All morning she had marveled at the good fortune that had given her a road clean of snow and a sky clean of Harpies. Now she decided that the Harpy knew this pass, and would wait until she was mired in snow before he struck. Ki set her teeth. She squinted her eyes against the snow’s brightness.
Her face felt stiff, her nose was prickly with cold, her eyelashes clung together when she blinked. The deep cold, the heaped snow, and a Harpy overhead. Ki spurred herself with her own desperation.
The snow was the worst right now. The team could barely lift their heavy hooves clear of it to plunge into the snow ahead. With every step it grew deeper. The tall wheels began to stick and jerk, and Ki could hear the brushing of the snow as the wagon bed passed over it. Soon the wheels were sliding as much as they were rolling. The team floundered and bucked along, no longer pulling smoothly as a team but seesawing the wagon along as best they could. Ki halted them, and steam rose from their huge bodies in whirling eddies.
Harpy's Flight Page 16
