*
With the six new men aboard, the next night and day on the rafts was a good deal more tense than those previous.
Towsan talked the Duchess into her shelter among the boxes, and there she largely stayed. Tilda and Dugan kept exclusively to the rear raft as well while the six rough men stayed on the one in front, huddling together in the middle except when Gorpal’s wugs cooked the large number of fish they now pitched out of the water for meals. The old knight and the leader of this new band of Daulmen, if that was what they all were, glared at each other all day long.
Dugan tried to talk to any of the new fellows in Codian but none of them gave any sign of understanding him, nor of any particular interest in being sociable. Dugan suggested Tilda keep away from them altogether, and she agreed. She was definitely garnering some looks from the ruffians, but not of a kind that could be called friendly.
The six men had all collapsed in sleep on the first night, but on the next they rotated watches. One man stayed awake while the others lay down around the warm coals on the cooking surface, for they had no blankets. Claudja emerged from her shelter well after nightfall and lit a candle, which she kept behind the crates out of view from the front raft. She spoke to Towsan, who had been standing at icy attention all day. The knight’s tone was hard, but his voice exhausted. Claudja was firm, and finally the old knight walked stiffly to his bedding.
Claudja looked from Tilda to Dugan, and spoke in Codian.
“I assume you two are willing to take shifts at watch during the night?”
“Of course,” Tilda said.
“We will, but the fellows won’t try anything until we land,” Dugan said. Claudja looked at him.
“Do you think they have recognized me? Or Gideon?”
Dugan shrugged. “I doubt it, but it doesn’t matter. They are desperate. I know the look.”
“They will attack us?” Tilda asked, and Dugan nodded with complete confidence.
“You are a Miilarkian, and they will figure you have money. Maybe enough to replace everything they’ve lost.”
“But I am a Miilarkian!”
Dugan gave a sour smile. “You are also outnumbered, and way out in the Wilds. This is not the sort of place where international incidents have any meaning.”
Tilda glared across the rafts at the slumbering men, and the one fellow who was awake and stirring the coals. His face was orange and ugly in the flickering light.
“I will take the first shift,” she said. “I am not tired.”
Claudja squeezed her arm. “Wake me when you are. Dugan, I will wake you before dawn. We will let Gideon sleep through if he is able.”
“Tell him what to expect when we land,” Dugan said. “Should be the day after tomorrow.”
With that, Dugan felt his way out of the candle light and over to his own bedroll. Claudja looked at Tilda over the flickering flame, and Tilda felt she had to say something.
“I am sorry.”
Claudja lifted an eyebrow.
“I am supposed to be protecting you,” Tilda said. “If Dugan is right, I am the one putting you in more danger.”
Claudja gave Tilda’s arm another squeeze. “We are in it together, Tilda.”
The Duchess blew out the candle and moved back into her shelter. Tilda sat facing the front raft with her back to a crate, not even leaving a silhouette against the dark sky. Several bullywugs slept at the edges where the two rafts met while Gorpal and a few others were still awake, pushing away from the banks whenever the current of the stream drew the rafts near it, moving on toward their destination even in the dark.
Tilda watched the men change their watch twice, looking over each of them closely and wondering if she could kill them if she must. She did not doubt they could kill her. She woke Claudja very late only after feeling herself begin to drift off, and neither said a word before Tilda settled down to several hours of terrible dreams.
The Sable City Page 46
