In the background, she heard the sounds of horses, and leather and wood creaking as the nomads prepared to move. “They generally keep to themselves, but by all accounts they're fierce warriors.”
Stonewall sighed. “That seems true, at any rate.”
“At least you and I found some common ground,” she replied. It was difficult to see his expression in the darkness, but she thought he was probably giving her an odd look, so she offered a thin smile in return. “Our days have turned out equally as terrible.”
He was quiet, long enough to make her think he was ignoring her. Then he gave a single, weary chuckle. “Aye. That they have–”
The wagon jerked into motion, jostling him so that he collided into her. For an instant their faces were close and she could smell him: sweat, leather, and the faint, metallic tang of hematite, which was unusual but not, in this instance, unpleasant.
“Sorry,” he said as he righted himself. She caught the soft thunk of his head resting against the caravan's wall and his next words came with reluctance. “Even if they'd not held a blade to your throat, I wouldn't have walked away from that fight. There were too many.”
Kali leaned her head back as well. “You can't win every time.”
“Don't I know it.” He was quiet. “You could have let them kill me.”
“Aye.”
“Why didn't you?”
“That, I don't know,” she replied. “It just felt... wrong not to try and talk them out of it.”
He took a long, deep breath in the darkness before he said, softly, “Thank you.”
This time, she did not reply.
The caravan trundled along. Slivers of sky slipped between the gaps in the caravan's makeshift roof, and for a little while Kali busied herself trying to find constellations. But even the stars could not hold her attention.
“How's your shoulder?” she asked.
“Fine,” he said, as if by route, then he shifted. “Well, the wound hurts a little. I pushed too hard back there.”
“You do know you're not made of your namesake, don't you?”
Another pause, then he startled her with a chuckle that held only amusement. When he looked her way, the starlight allowed her to see the faintest tint of honey-brown in his eyes. Perhaps it was a trick of the shadows or of the starlight, but she thought there was a trace of warmth in his gaze, fleeting though it was as he looked away again.
Eventually, she managed some fitful sleep; each time she woke, she'd glance beside her at the armored man to see if he'd been able to sleep. Each time, his eyes were closed, but at her glance they'd open and flick her way.
One time he spoke, his voice low and pleasantly rough against the darkness. “Your magic... Have you rested enough to try and use it?”
“Oh,” she drawled, hoping to conceal her surprise at his question. “Now you want me to use magic?”
“I...” Sweet stars, she could practically hear him flushing and scowling all at once. At last he cleared his throat. “I acted as best I could, given the...situation. I'm sorry if I offended you, but–”
“Stonewall,” she broke in, biting back a chuckle. “Relax. I'm only teasing. Mostly. To answer your question, I'm not feeling strong enough to do much of anything now.” She tried to keep her voice deadpan. “Perhaps if you were free, you could take these binders off...”
She trailed off meaningfully and he sighed again.
“But even if I were well-rested and unbound,” Kali continued. “I'm not certain I could pull another stunt like the one I did earlier. I'm still not sure how that happened.”
Perhaps her sheer terror had awoken a latent ability; perhaps she'd simply stumbled into something new. Apparently there was more to magic than she understood.
Stonewall was quiet for a beat; when he did speak it was not to her, not quite. “I thought magic could do anything.”
A slip of wind rifled through her tunic, and she shivered. “No, not even close.”
Her father's face appeared in her mind's eye. Magic couldn't save the life of a man bound to destroy his own, whatever the cost to those who loved him. Even his gods would not spare his life. There is balance in all things, she thought bitterly.
Suddenly she wanted to think of something else, anything at all, so she looked back at her companion. “Do you think Gray or any of the others survived?”
“I hope so,” he replied, frowning at her even though he made no remark on the sudden change in topic. “If anyone survived, they'll likely inform the garrison in Whitewater City and send out a search party for us. But even if that doesn't happen, the gods will not abandon us,” he added, straightening. “You can count on that.”
For one moment the conviction in his voice made her forget their predicament.
One moment. Brief, but it was enough for hope.
SIX
Judging by the gray light that filtered through the tarp, Kali thought it was close to dawn when the caravan finally halted. Outside, children laughed, horses nickered, and something delicious was cooking.
“I think we're at their camp,” Kali said.
Stonewall shut his eyes and inhaled. “Someone's making breakfast.”
His stomach rumbled, and Kali bit back a chuckle, though it quickly turned into a groan when she tried to sit up. After so many hours seated and bound – not to mention yesterday's horseback riding – her body was starting to protest the unnatural position and she wasn't sure how much more she could tolerate. At least she'd gotten some sleep.
Two voices began to argue outside the caravan: the woman who'd held Kali at knife point and an older man whose voice Kali did not recognize. Angry words flew between them until a gloved hand pulled the flap over the rear of the caravan aside, and the female Sufani appeared.
“Here they are, Father,” she said in heavily accented Aredian. “They're unharmed. As I said. Now–”
“Hush, Leal,” the new Sufani broke in, stepping beside her. “Let me this mage see for myself.”
Leal exhaled sharply and said something else in the Sufani tongue, something with a desperate edge. In response, the new Sufani turned to her and spoke quietly, but firmly, in Aredian. “I know, child. Time is short. But you have not helped matters with such rash actions. Leave us.”
“But–”
The Sufani man's eyes narrowed behind his hood. “Go to your mother. Your sister has sat with her since yesterday; it's your turn.”
With that, he turned away from Leal and stepped up and into the caravan to regard Kali and Stonewall. Save for a pair of pale green eyes that looked out from behind an emerald-green hood, it was impossible to see his face.
“So what my daughter told me is true.” The hood slightly muffled his voice. “A sentinel – that much is clear from your armor, is it not? And a young woman...but certainly not your wife, eh, lad? That oath of yours won't allow the blessing of marriage, yes?”
Neither Kali nor Stonewall replied, though Kali felt him tense beside her.
The Sufani leader waved a gloved hand. “Ah, forgive my terrible jokes. I have been traveling a very long time and my mind is as scattered as my footsteps.”
“Do you truly need a mage?” Kali broke in. “Or was that an excuse to kidnap innocent travelers?”
All humor fled his voice as the Sufani sighed heavily. “I apologize for your unkind treatment. Yes, we have a great need for magic. My wife's wound has not healed, nor will her fever break. I had not expected my scouts to find a mage, so your attention will be welcome. Rest assured, we mean you no harm.”
“Don't trust him,” Stonewall muttered to Kali, though surely the Sufani could hear.
Why should he not hear? “I'm inclined to agree,” she replied, louder
Indeed, the Sufani man tensed, but nodded after a moment. “And understandable sentiment, given the circumstances.” His voice took on a wry lilt. “But such a grievous injustice will quickly be rectified. Let us begin with the business of names.”
“What difference would our nam
es make?” Stonewall asked.
“It is a common courtesy, Ser Sentinel. Let us have some semblance of civility. I shall begin.” He bowed low in an exaggerated gesture of greeting. “You may call me Aderey.”
“Father!” Leal reappeared at the caravan's entrance. “You can't tell them–”
“What's done is done,” Aderey replied. “Didn't I tell you to go?” As she stormed off, he looked back at Kali. “Your name, young ser?”
Kali hesitated, but keeping her name a secret would serve no purpose; she was no one special. Besides, she'd demanded as much from Leal. “I'm Kali.”
Aderey nodded and looked down at the sentinel. Stonewall glared up at him before answering in a curt voice, and the Sufani man's eyes crinkled. “Stonewall. Thank you for humoring an old man. The cooking-fires welcome you until the road takes you again. I offer you the hospitality of the Sufani–”
“Hospitality?” Stonewall broke in.
But the sentinel's outrage faded in the background as Leal, now with several other Sufani in tow, gathered back at the caravan's entrance. At Aderey's greeting, the lot of them burst into an angry tirade in the Sufani tongue, with Leal gesticulating between her father and those she'd taken prisoner.
At last, Aderey barked an order and the others fell silent. “Have I taught you so poorly?” he scolded Leal in Aredian. “Speak so everyone can understand.”
“Why?” Leal protested – though it was in Aredian. A few of the others muttered what Kali assumed was agreement, for they spoke the Sufani language. “They're outsiders,” Leal added. “They're not supposed to understand us.”
“Outsiders whom you brought into our midst,” Aderey replied sharply. “Outsiders who might be able to save your mother's life, assuming the mage doesn't burn us all to ashes in retaliation. You won't, will you?”
This last was said to Kali. Was he joking? She could not tell, so she decided to keep her reply cautious; clearly, these nomads needed her magic. Perhaps she could escape this mess with her blood safely within her veins. “I haven't quite decided,” she said, lifting her chin in an effort to seem threatening.
Of course, she was bluffing, but Stonewall looked at her uncertainly. Did he know the limits of her abilities, or did he truly think her capable of such an act? Regardless, now wasn't the time to educate him. She silently willed him to play along.
Her words seemed to have struck all of the Sufani into silence, though Leal recovered first. “You gave your word that you'd help!”
“An oath made under duress is not to be trusted,” Stonewall said.
Leal shot back a snide rejoinder, but Kali didn't pay attention. Instead, she watched Aderey's eyes, shifting first toward his irate daughter, then to the other Sufani who'd gathered together, then finally to a place Kali could not see. Every line of his body radiated tension; even his gloved hands wrung together. Once he caught her studying him, he dropped his hands to his sides. When he met her eyes, there was nothing but worry in his gaze.
Despite everything – better sense, included – Kali's heart softened. “I promised to help,” she told him. “So I shall. However, I'd very much prefer to live while I do, and I have no wish to remain your prisoner now...or later.”
The tension in his stance eased as he caught her meaning. “Of course. Well, since we're all throwing oaths about, I give you my word that you won't be held here against your will. Now, if you'll allow me...” He trailed off, kneeling beside Kali and gently picked up her wrists, still bound in the hematite cuffs. “Ah, fearsome hematite for the fearsome mage. These will need to be removed.”
Kali inclined her head to her sentinel companion. “I'd like nothing better, but...”
Stonewall's reply was curt. “If you release the mage, you would be wise to return my weapons as well.”
Aderey threw back his head and laughed loud enough to startle a trio of crows from their roost in a nearby tree. “We'll set Ser Kalinda free, of course, but I have not decided the same of you, Stonehead.”
“Stonewall,” the sentinel replied through clenched teeth.
“Ah, yes. Forgive me. But it is such a peculiar name, isn't it? Anyway, Stonewall, you are fortunate that I have considered unbinding you at all. But I have and I shall.”
“Why?” Leal said. “We don't need him.”
“I asked you to check on your mother – twice now,” Aderey replied. “Yet here you stand. Tell me why that is.”
“I'm not leaving you alone with these two,” Leal said.
The Sufani leader pinched the bridge of his nose through his cowl, muttering beneath his breath, then looked at Stonewall again. “As I was saying, no outsider may carry a weapon while in our midst. Your belongings will be returned to you when you leave.”
When, Kali noted. Not if. That was promising. As much as she would have liked to take this man's word that she would not be held prisoner, she could not believe it until she and Stonewall were on the road again.
Stonewall gave a deep sigh that was nothing so much as resigned. “Very well. But my bonds will need to be released so I can find the key to those binders.”
“No need. I can find it,” Aderey replied, all good humor again as he reached into his boot. “Likely it is in that fine leather belt of yours, eh, lad? How much coin would that belt fetch, do you think? Not as much as your sword and daggers, I'd wager.”
Stonewall scowled but Aderey ignored him and withdrew a slender knife, with which he cut their bonds. Soon enough, Stonewall was digging through his belt for the key to the hematite cuffs. As he made to unlock her binders, Kali saw how his hands trembled.
“It will be all right,” she heard herself say. Why she was comforting him, she did not quite understand. Perhaps she meant the words for her own ears. “I can't say as much of them, but you don't have anything to fear from me.”
He took a deep breath and the binders fell to Kali's lap. With the hematite gone, the world rushed to greet her in a heady mix of smells, sounds and colors. It was too much at first, and her head swam. To help herself adjust to the rush of sensation, she leaned against the caravan wall and closed her eyes. When her head cleared, she sat up, blinking, for it was suddenly so bright in here. She glanced on either side to see Stonewall and the Sufani man watching her warily.
“You are well?” Aderey asked.
“Aye.” Kali rubbed her wrists and made to rise. Her knee twinged; she winced and tried to find purchase along the caravan wall.
Then Sufani man offered her his gloved hand. Leal and the other Sufani, still watching from outside, muttered to one another, but Aderey's gaze was calm. Kali accepted; he helped her stand and exit the caravan. Stonewall followed silently, unassisted.
This caravan was at the edge of the Sufani camp, tucked in a mist-drenched meadow surrounded by a few sparse trees. A chill wind tugged Kali's tunic and she thought of her sweaters and her lovely, warm cloak, all lost during the Canderi raid.
“Where is your wife?” she asked Aderey.
Aderey inclined his head. “This way, but...” He hesitated, then added, “Do not speak to anyone unless they address you first and do not touch anything unless it is freely offered. Do you understand?”
“Aye,” Kali said, nodding.
The Sufani looked at Stonewall, who nodded as well. Satisfied, Aderey led them through the camp, Leal darting ahead. Kali tried to keep her expression neutral, though she could not help but try to see everything. A few caravans boasted tarp roofs, as the one Kali and Stonewall had traveled in, but most had shingled roofs, like little houses on wheels complete with windows and doors. All were brightly painted; echoes of the colorful garb worn by the Sufani people. As they wound between campfires, Kali got the sense that her and Stonewall's appearance had disturbed the Sufani, for those she saw stood in clusters, clutching their children close and pulling scarves and hoods over their faces. More than a few curtains closed over windows as the outsiders passed. No one spoke. It was more than a little unnerving.
At last they reached a
purple and gold painted caravan with a curved roof. Like many of the others, this one boasted a small door at the rear, which Aderey opened and entered, beckoning Kali to follow.
She made to do so, but Stonewall stepped before her. “Let me go first.”
“In case it's booby-trapped?”
His only response was a frown.
Honestly. Bum knee aside, Kali was keenly aware of the magic within her veins; she was not helpless. What could be so dangerous about an injured woman, anyway? What had happened to make this fellow so distrustful of the world?
But she sighed and extended her hand in an overly formal motion and speaking as if addressing someone of a higher tier. “As you wish, Serla Sentinel.”
Back at Starwatch Bastion, she'd often been reprimanded for her sometimes inappropriate sense of humor. Given what they'd been through in the last day, she expected Stonewall to do the same. Surely he'd at least give her a stern glare.
But he pitched his voice to be equally weighty, almost deadpan – if she'd not known any better. “Much obliged, Serla Mage.”
She could not help a flare of pleasure. Perhaps he was not as stoic as his namesake. He was inside only a moment before he clambered back out, armored shoulder knocking into the doorway.
“Are you certain it's safe?” she could not help but ask as he stepped to the ground.
He frowned at the doorway. “Aye. It's just...small.”
“It's a box on wheels,” she said as she stepped inside. “It's not meant to be roomy.”
He'd not been exaggerating. She could have brushed both of the caravan walls with her arms extended, and the zenith of the curved ceiling was well within palm's reach. A heavy curtain covered the caravan's single window, so only a dim light filtered through. There was a bed at one end, the sleeping pallet set atop what was probably a storage space. Boxes and baskets filled the interior, so that not an inch was wasted. It was practical, but that meant there wasn't much room for a mage, a Sufani man, and a woman lying upon the bed, wrapped in a thick quilt with a scarf held close to her face.
Aderey knelt by his wife's side and they spoke in hushed, heated whispers as Aderey gestured toward the mage, his motions swift and decisive. His wife's voice was weak, but she kept shaking her head, glaring daggers Kali's way even as she pulled her scarf to obscure her features.
Catalyst Moon: Incursion (The Catalyst Moon Saga Book 1) Page 7
