There were blue-uniformed guards at the Syndishan border, and without Irith along the party had no one they recognized; Kelder and Azraya had to make something called a “customs declaration,” informing a scribe of all the magical articles they carried (none), how much gold they had (none), what livestock they were bringing into the kingdom (none), and whether they intended to settle down or were just passing through.
Ezdral was only semi-conscious, so the officials informed Kelder that he was speaking for the Sot as well as himself. Asha being under age twelve, Azraya was arbitrarily chosen as her guardian and declared responsible for her actions as long as they were in Syndisha.
Azraya was not at all pleased about this, but tolerated it until one of the soldiers approached too closely. Then, suddenly, her belt knife was in her hand and she barked, “Don’t touch me!”
The soldier in question spoke no Ethsharitic, but he got the message. After that, the officials quickly finished up, and sent the party on its way.
They reached Syndisha Castle a little over an hour later, and as promised, Irith was waiting for them.
The castle was immense, incorporating the entire town; it was built in four concentric rings. Kelder could see that much, and Irith confirmed it, while admitting that she might have missed additional inner layers.
The outermost ring was a broad field between two stone walls that served as the public market, where farmers wheeled wagons of produce about, crying their wares, and various groups stood about, discussing various business.
The next ring was the town itself, a single circular street lined with inns and shops, with alleys branching off here and there and a single broad cross-street that led from the market gate across to the inner gate.
Irith said that the next layer in was where the wealthier townsfolk lived, and the king’s keep stood within that, but Kelder never saw those for himself except for glimpses through the gate.
“Why did they build it like this?” Kelder wondered aloud.
“Seems like good sense to me,” Azraya said.
“Seems excessive to me,” Kelder returned. “It must have been expensive.”
Irith shrugged. “This part of the Small Kingdoms has the smallest and nastiest kingdoms of them all,” she said. “I mean, there’s just one stupid little war after another, and it seems like half the princes go out and build castles and declare themselves kings. Maybe the Syndishans got thinking about that and got a little carried away.”
Attempts to locate a wizard turned up three warlocks, four witches, and a theurgist, but no wizards. Since Irith’s magic was purely wizardry, that meant no chance of finding a countercharm in Syndisha.
On Irith’s recommendation, they took lodgings at an inn called the Broken Blade — and took two rooms. “If this Azraya person is going to stay with us,” Irith said, “we have to. I mean, five people in one room is just too many!”
It didn’t seem all that excessive to Kelder, who had seen farmhands at harvest sleeping fifteen or twenty to a room, but he didn’t argue. Asha and Ezdral were in no shape to go any farther, so the entire party was definitely staying the night in Syndisha, and he wanted to keep things peaceful. Besides, dividing up three and two could mean that he would share a room with Irith.
It could, but it didn’t.
Kelder was never quite sure just how the decision was made, but somehow the question never even came up; Irith, Asha, and Azraya took one room, and he and Ezdral got the other.
This did not suit him much — particularly since the dividing wall was thin enough that he could hear Irith and Azraya arguing, and later, when they had quieted and Ezdral was out cold, he found himself fantasizing that Irith might slip into the room in the middle of the night...
Or Azraya, for that matter, though he didn’t really think she would.
Ezdral had gotten hold of oushka at dinner — he had had money, somehow, and had bought a bottle from the innkeeper. Kelder had tried to talk him out of it, but Ezdral was a free man and would do as he pleased, the lad had no authority over him.
Kelder had looked to Irith for support, knowing Ezdral would do whatever she told him, but she said, “Oh, let him drink it.”
It was not a good night at all.
The next day’s journey to Tuyoa wasn’t any better; Asha and Ezdral seemed to be taking turns collapsing. Asha’s falls were minor, and she recovered quickly, but Ezdral seemed to be deteriorating as Kelder watched. He stumbled all the time, now, and his hands shook constantly. He spoke little, and mumbled when he did. It took the entire day to get the five of them the twelve miles from Syndisha to Tuyoa.
This time it was Azraya who got fed up and marched on ahead, and Kelder feared he had seen the last of the short-tempered little Ethsharite, but when they reached Tuyoa she was leaning against the wall of a smithy, watching the village children chase a ball down the street.
Again, they took two rooms at an inn of Irith’s choosing, and again divided the accommodations by sex. Kelder mentioned the sorry state of Asha’s garb to Irith, who suggested they wait until they reached Ethshar.
“You can find some really good bargains there,” she said. “You’d be surprised.”
They had found no wizards in Syndisha, and they found none in Tuyoa. When they inquired, they were directed to two personable young men who turned out to be witches, rather than wizards.
“I mean no offense,” Irith said, turning away, “but it’s not the same.”
The following day was better; they reached Shesta Keep by noon, and Castle Lamum well before dark. The road was veering westward again, toward the boundary between the Small Kingdoms and the Hegemony of Ethshar, and the landscape was changing from gently rolling hills to flat plain.
Lamum was blessed with two wizards (and a sorcerer and a warlock), but one knew no counter for Fendel’s Infatuous Love Spell, and the other was in the middle of a three-day ritual and could not be disturbed.
“Should we wait?” Irith asked.
Kelder looked at Ezdral, asleep on a bench in the town square, and said, “I don’t think we should.”
“It’s two days to Ethshar yet,” Irith said, “and long days, very long. Maybe we should rest here and see before we walk that far. Maybe it’s the walking that’s wearing Ezdral out.”
Kelder considered that.
“I think we should wait,” Asha said. “Walking is wearing me out.”
Kelder looked for Azraya, but she was off window-shopping at a nearby bakery, out of earshot. “All right,” he said, “we’ll wait here, Ezdral and Asha and I — and Irith, you fly ahead, why don’t you, and see what you can find, and then come back here.”
“Fly to Ethshar, you mean?” she asked, startled.
“Well, yes, why not?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “Let me think about it.”
She thought about it, and decided she didn’t like the idea. “It’s a long way,” she said, “and we’ll get there soon enough. What if I fly to some of the other kingdoms around here, instead? There’s Thurion, to the north, and Porona to the east, and Thrullimion to the south.”
Kelder had to admit that that was a perfectly sound idea, and so it was agreed. Irith would stay the night in Lamum, and in the morning would start visiting the neighboring kingdoms, while the others waited.
At least, it was agreed among four of them. Asha wanted to rest; Ezdral did whatever Irith wanted; Irith and Kelder had arrived at this arrangement. Azraya, however, had other ideas.
“What, just sit here and fester?” she demanded.
“Or find work, if you like,” Kelder answered mildly. “We don’t have very much money left.”
“Ha!” Azraya stamped off.
She made no mention of her plans that night, but in the morning she came down to the inn’s breakfast with her shoulder-bag packed, glaring belligerently at the others.
“You’re going on without us?” Kelder asked, as they finished eating.
“You’re damned right I am,” she snar
led.
“I wish you wouldn’t,” Kelder said, “but if you’re going, good luck.”
She stared at him for a moment, as if challenging him to say more, then said, “Goodbye, Kelder.”
“Is there somewhere we can find you, when we get to Ethshar?” he called to her, as she turned toward the door.
She hesitated, then paused in the doorway and turned back. “If you really do ever get there,” she said, “and if you really do want to find me, and it’s not too late, come to the northeast corner of Shiphaven Market each morning. I’ve decided to take another try at finding a berth as a sailor, and that’s the best place to look.”
“Thank you,” Kelder said, “I’ll do that.”
She almost smiled, then thought better of it. She turned and marched out.
“Well,” Irith said when the door had closed, “we’re well rid of her!”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Asha replied. “I sort of liked her.”
Irith glared at the child, while Kelder said nothing, and Ezdral, as usual, simply stared blankly at Irith.
Chapter Thirty-One
There were no wizards in Thurion, simply by happenstance, and Klathoa, being ruled by witches, had outlawed all other forms of magic. In Ikala the three wizards had all learned their arts from the same master, who had disapproved of love spells on principle — an attitude that Kelder could appreciate, when Irith reported it.
That was the first day.
The king of Porona did not like his two wizards talking to foreigners, and Irith had to slip in through a window in bird shape in order to discover that neither of them knew a counter for Fendel’s Infatuous Love Spell. The only wizard in Thrullimion was not home, and did not return home, although Irith waited most of the afternoon and well into the evening before giving up and making a moonlight flight back to Lamum.
That was the second day, and that evening Thellesh the Wondrous completed his ritual and began reading through the messages his apprentice had collected while he was occupied. When Irith awoke the next morning — which was rather late, since she had not gotten in until almost midnight — she found a message waiting for her in the innkeeper’s care.
“It was delivered by a walking table,” the innkeeper said, speaking in an awestruck whisper. Irith and Kelder looked at each other, not sure whether to believe this; then Irith unfolded the note and read it aloud.
Thellesh did not know the particular countercharm she was looking for, but would be delighted by a chance to discuss the matter with her.
Irith sent a reply, paying a girl from the village two bits to deliver it, thanking the wizard politely. Then she and Kelder and Asha sat down to consider.
They stayed one more day, resting; Irith paid a visit to Perelia, two kingdoms to the south, on the coast of the Gulf of the East, and found half a dozen wizards, all of them busy with something. One said he might have the counterspell, but would need to research it, which would cost three pieces in gold — he was not interested in trade of any sort, nor did he care who or what Irith was, that was his price.
Irith indignantly rejected it.
Two more were too busy to speak with her at all; two admitted they’d never heard of that particular spell; and the last one was incoherent, so that Irith was unable to figure out if she even spoke a recognizable language.
She was back in Lamum in time for supper, and they all went to bed early.
As Kelder had requested, the innkeeper roused them all an hour before dawn; they dressed, breakfasted, and packed, and by the time the sun had cleared the eastern horizon they were walking down the slight slope from Castle Lamum, toward the border post where soldiers in red kilts passed them into the Hegemony of Ethshar.
From there, they set out across the plain, into Ethshar.
The landscape was remarkably dull, Kelder thought — for mile after mile they walked between endless fields of wheat and corn, all of it still fresh and green. Tidy little farmhouses broke the monotony here and there, all of them whitewashed stone roofed with thatch. No place else along the Great Highway was so intensely cultivated; in fact, no place Kelder had ever seen in his life was so thoroughly farmed. There were no side-roads, no rocky patches, no trees or bushes, just fields, and small yards around the houses.
And it went on seemingly forever. The Highway marched them onward to the southwest, sometimes straight enough to make a line to the horizon, sometimes curving gently and vanishing into the endless greenery ahead of them.
This was, beyond question, a vast plain; the prophecy was satisfied on that point.
The three-day rest in Lamum had them all in fairly high spirits, but Ezdral and Asha still moved more slowly than Kelder liked; the day wore on, and although they walked steadily, the landscape did not change. The only visible indication that they were making any progress was that Castle Lamum gradually shrank behind them, and eventually vanished below the horizon. Other, faster travelers occasionally passed them going westward; none came from the west.
After they had been walking for hours, and the sun was high overhead, Kelder burst out, “This is boring!”
Irith nodded. “That’s why I don’t come here often,” she said. “The Small Kingdoms are much more interesting.”
“These fields go on forever!” Kelder said.
“It only seems like it,” Irith said.
A moment later she added, “But it does seem like it.”
They stopped for lunch at a spot that was just like all the others, and while they ate more westbound traffic passed them.
There was still nothing the other way. Kelder remarked on it.
“Of course not, silly,” Irith said. “We aren’t halfway yet, and nobody would stop for the night anywhere between Lamum and the Bridge — the local farmers would probably kill you if you tried.”
It was almost two hours past noon when they encountered their first eastbound traveler.
“Oh, may the gods help me,” Kelder said, “you mean we’re just now halfway?”
“Probably not,” Irith said. “After all, they’re probably faster than we are.”
Asha whimpered at that, and tried to walk faster.
The sun was setting, its parting magic turning the clouds to incredible shades of pink and lavender, and Kelder was becoming concerned that they would have no shelter for the night. He looked at the orange ball, and suddenly came to two realizations.
First, the sun was off to the right, rather than straight ahead; the road had turned until it was headed far more south than west. And second, the ground was no longer level, but sloping slightly downward. He looked down at the dirt beneath his feet, trying to convince himself that this was not merely an illusion.
Irith noticed what Kelder was doing, and her wings sprang forth; she rose straight up, flapping lazily, and peered ahead.
“I can see the river,” she reported, “shining gold in the sunset. There’s a bright line across it that must be Azrad’s Bridge catching the sun, and a black line beside that that must be the bridge’s shadow, and the Inn is atop the ridge on the far side. Look closely, maybe you can see the smoke from the chimney.”
Kelder stared, and saw a line of smoke rising gently into the vast polychrome sky — but that by itself would have meant nothing, as many of the farmhouses had cookfires and chimneys.
“That’s the inn?” he asked, pointing.
“That’s it,” Irith confirmed.
By the time they came within sight of the bridge full night was upon them; the gods had washed the World in darkness and lit the stars anew. The lesser moon gleamed pink in the west, while the greater was nowhere to be seen. The fields to either side were black in the gloom, as was the road they walked upon.
And in truth, they could see almost nothing of the bridge itself, but the torches set along its rails blazed warm and inviting, beacons in the night. The sight gave Kelder and Asha renewed strength, and they hurried ahead.
Irith held back slightly, and Kelder turned, wondering.
B
efore he could speak, she said, “There’s a toll.”
“What?”
“They charge a fee to let you cross the bridge, just the way Caren wanted to charge tolls on the highway through Angarossa.”
Kelder stopped. “How much?” he asked.
“A copper piece, it used to be — that was for each adult, no charge for children or livestock.”
That meant three pieces — Irith, Ezdral, and himself. Asha would be free.
“I’ll fly across,” Irith said, “or maybe swim — I haven’t been a fish in ages. And I’ll meet you on the far side.”
Two pieces, then; Kelder considered the contents of his purse and decided that was manageable, but he was not happy about it. “Maybe I should swim, too,” he suggested.
“Are you a good swimmer?” Irith asked. “It’s a long way to swim for a human, especially in the dark.”
“I’ve never tried swimming at all,” Kelder admitted. “There wasn’t anywhere to swim, in the hills of Shulara.”
“Then you can’t swim, silly!” Irith told him. “It’s something you need to learn! You’d just sink and probably drown!”
“Oh,” Kelder replied, embarrassed.
“Come on!” Asha called; she had ignored the discussion and was waiting halfway down the slope.
Kelder came.
There were no guards on the bridge, so far as he could see, and he wondered if Irith’s information might be out of date. He said as much as they stepped onto the first stones.
“I don’t think so,” Irith said. “I think they’re at the other end. And even if they aren’t, I’m going to swim, anyway — I haven’t been a fish in years!” She leaned over, kissed Kelder on the cheek, then slipped away into the darkness beyond the bridge’s torchlit rail.
He tried to watch her go, but outside the glow of the torches he could see nothing but the night. He sighed, and led Asha and Ezdral onward.
Irith’s information proved correct in every particular; by the time they were halfway across, Kelder could see and hear that four soldiers lounged at the far end of the bridge, chatting in Ethsharitic spoken in accents just like Azraya’s, telling each other obscene anecdotes. When they spotted the travelers they broke off the conversation long enough to collect two coppers, and then ignored the threesome thereafter.
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