by Diana Rivers
I was still shaking my head. “Wait, wait, you must give me a moment to think. This is all too fast.” I could still feel the soft warmth of her breast cupped in my hand, in such sharp contrast to her hard, lean face.
As if she understood, she took my hand back and pressed it again to her breast. “That is real. What you feel there is real. You must never forget it. On the other hand, you must forget it before we walk into that room again. There you must see me only as a man.” She released my wrist. I stepped back rubbing it, still hesitating and ready to dash away.
“How do I really know who you are? How do I know this is not some trick or trap?” She gave a hiss of impatience. “By the Goddess, use your common sense. We are both star-brats with our lives at forfeit. I held your wrist against your will. I can touch your mind. Who else could do that? Listen, girl, we have no time right now for trading words. We must be very straight and clear with each other, because those men in that room mean our death, and so shall every man in these streets very soon.
“Now, we will go back in there, a little drunk, but very friendly. We will talk of horses and prices and the stubbornness of fathers. I shall buy us dinner. Then we shall go elsewhere to make our plans.”
“Why go back?” I asked in a shaky voice. “Since it is so dangerous in there, why not leave now? It would be safer.”
“Far safer, without a doubt. But I have no wish to miss this meal, and by the look of it, you could use it, too. More important, my sense tells me something is about to happen. I have a need to be there. Now, Cousin, what is your name?”
I hesitated just a moment longer, then in a burst said, “Tazzia,” as if in that way surrendering to my fate.
She slapped me on the back in the manner of men and said heartily, “Well, Cousin Tazzi, now we go in to win this turn. But before that, a little practice to improve your style. First, you must deepen your voice, start it from here.” She pressed her hand to a spot below my breasts. “And you must walk with more weight on your heels.” She pushed me away from her to watch how I did. “Step harder, yes, more angles, less grace, widen your shoulders, take more room.” Feeling the fool, I walked back and forth under her critical eye. “Good, good, now remember all that. Then you will not be such an easy mark for mischief. We will practice more later. Now for dinner.” She made ready to stride off, expecting me to follow.
I caught her arm. “What is your name? How am I to call you?”
“Oh yes, a thing of some importance. My birth name was Pellandrea. For now, for the world as it is, call me Pell.”
“Pell” I said, testing the sound of it on my tongue. “Pell.” I had never known a woman with such a name. “Pell, do you really have money to buy us dinner?”
“Well, let us say I borrowed a small negligible sum from the captain of those guards”
“You stole it?”
“An interesting question, Tazzi, a very interesting question indeed. Can you steal from someone who plans to be your executioner, your murderer, so to speak? Is that stealing? A question of morality, I suppose. Anyway, we shall dine very well on the captain’s generosity, better than I have in days, in weeks really. Later, in some safe place, we can discuss morality.” She leaned forward and whispered in a conspiring way, “And sometime you must tell me how you came by your gold coins. An inheritance perhaps?” I gasped. Pell held up her hands and said quickly, “Never mind, no need to know.” Lurching a little as if we had shared a private bottle or two, we re-entered the tavern arm in arm, with Pell saying loudly, “Well, your father is as great a fool as I would have expected. I would not pay half that much for such a horse. And she is lame besides.”
“But that was only from a small stone caught in her hoof. You will see—tomorrow she will be better.” I struggled to keep my voice low and steady.
This time, when we sat down together at my dark table, the serving girl came instantly. Her eyes were all on Pell. Pell was ready. She ordered baked tarmar, spiced vegetables, roast potatoes, and honeyed suli-leaves, all with no hesitation, as if she had already rehearsed it in her mind. When the serving girl asked, “No meat?” Pell laughed and said, “No coin,” laying down the two coins needed for the meal and shaking out her empty purse. “We need the most filling for the least spent,” she added. I had already seen her slip the rest into her boot. The serving girl looked at us both with puzzlement, no doubt thinking of my gold coin. I avoided her glance.
When she left, Pell whispered to me, “I cannot eat meat any more than you can, but we must not let them know. It is a mark of our kind that we have speech with creatures.” Our kind! Those words echoed in my head.
When the food came, the smell of it made me dizzy. I bent my head over the plate, not in fear this time, but to shorten the path to my mouth. Also, I wanted to put my face full in the way of those aromas. The serving girl may have thought this cheap ordinary fare, since it had no meat. To me it was a feast such as we ate at home only on special days, once or twice a year.
For a while I lost myself in the pleasures of the food. I was thus absorbed when I heard Pell mutter, “Too soon by the Mother’s Tit. I had hoped to finish my meal in peace.” I looked up to see the Commissioner entering with his men and a whole troop of guards, the very ones, in fact, who had swept by me on the road. They dropped more edicts on the table that was already piled with them. Then, with much moving of chairs and benches, they all settled noisily at the table next to that one. Even the two who had rushed out of the tavern were back.
I could hardly swallow. My little stash of found coins burned like hot coals against my skin. More than the guards, the sight of the Commissioner set me to trembling. I found myself watching him against my will. In fact, dangerous as it might be to stare, I could not take my eyes off the man. I had never seen anyone so white or with such obvious power. Even the other men in the tavern were afraid of him. Their talk was suddenly subdued and they kept their eyes lowered.
Plainly impatient, he shouted for his dinner. The serving-girl rushed out to take his order, bowing several times. When she returned with his food, he looked at her strangely. As soon as she had set it down, he grabbed her wrist. His hand was instantly flung back and he could not hold her. “Ah, so you are one of those.” With a quick sweep of his other hand, he caught the ends of her shawl, trapping her. I saw him pull her forward and say something in her ear. She gave a cry and tried to twist away. Now the whole tavern was alert and silent, watching the scene. Looking about, the Commissioner shouted, “Goodman, how old is this zuka?”
The owner of the inn came out instantly, wiping his hands on his apron. He looked nervous and fearful and bowed quickly.
“She is twenty at least, sir, twenty-one perhaps”
“How do you know that for sure?”
“She is my niece, sir, my sister’s daughter. I know her age.”
“Are you sure you are telling the truth, Goodman? She looks to be no more than fifteen or sixteen, just the sort we are looking for. It could be very hard on you if you are lying.” He turned to the crowd and called out, “Is there any here that knows this young woman’s age?”
“She was seventeen years just this month past.” a young man called out from the back. People gasped. There were hisses and mutterings, but none came forward to deny his words. A woman near us said, “She has refused him three times. Now it will cost her life.”
The girl meanwhile was struggling and crying out, “No sir, no sir, I have twenty years.” She slipped loose of her shawl and leapt back.
Instantly, the Commissioner was on his feet, shouting for the guardsmen. They had her quickly surrounded. He called out to them, “Do not try to hold her. It is no use. Only block her way.” The tavern was now in tumult.
Pell nudged me and whispered, “This is a fine turn, eh?” I had been watching so intently, I had almost forgotten her existence and could hardly hear her over the noise. Now I turned back to see her emptying my plate into a little leather pouch that she then slipped into her pack. Her own pla
te she had already emptied. “I hate to lose such a fine dinner, especially since it is already paid for. Now follow me closely and watch what I do. We must act fast and not get separated. We are going to leave here safely, Tazzi, and that girl is going with us.” She was already on her feet and moving as she said this. Much afraid, I jumped up to follow. I had no wish to be left alone in that dangerous scene.
Everyone was pressing forward to see. Under cover of this commotion Pell slipped over to the table that held the edicts. There she tipped the lamp and poured some lamp oil on the pile of edicts, lighting it with a candle. Then she quickly pushed herself forward through the press of people, pouring a trail of oil right up to the Commissioner’s heels. I think she even splashed some on his boots. Instantly, she stepped away from her flaming trail and began shouting, “Fire! Help! Fire! That young man over there has started a fire.” She was pointing wildly at the informer.
Now the tavern was in an uproar, with people yelling commands and screaming and running in different directions. The young man tried to flee while others tried to block his way. “Seize him!” the Captain shouted to the guards. The Commissioner himself gave a shout of pain and surprise as the fire found him. He began leaping about with his pants aflame while guardsmen rushed to his aid.
Still shouting, “Fire!” Pell overturned chairs and benches and a few more lanterns for good measure. Then she grabbed my hand, saying, “Now!” We dashed forward into the chaos, heading straight for the serving girl. She stood confused and terrified in the midst of it all. Pell grabbed her hand. The girl whirled toward us in fear, but Pell said quickly, “Come with me for your life. This is your chance. Is there a way out through the kitchen?”
Instantly, the young woman was moving. It was as if she had been spelled and all she needed was Pell’s touch to release her. “This way! This way!” she urged as she dashed off, pulling us with her.
Together we plunged into the kitchen, forcing our way past those who were rushing out with pots of water to douse the fire. Stumbling on overturned furniture and coughing from the smoke, I struggled, with Pell beside me, to keep up with our guide. I could see no exit, but she flung open a door concealed behind a pile of produce boxes. We burst out of the smoke and confusion into the barely lit street. It was night already.
“Quick,” Pell panted, slamming the door. “Help me.” She began hauling boxes to pile against the door. We rushed to her aid, adding a log and part of a broken cart.That done, Pell turned to the serving girl. “Your name and where is your horse?”
“Barrenaise is my name and I have no horse. I use my uncle’s.”
“Then where is that one?”
“I cannot take it, for he has no other.”
“Then take a different one. There are more than enough.”
“I have not the skill.That is the only one I know how to ride.”
“Oh Goddess, save me from idiots!” Pell shouted, plainly at her wits’ end. “Barrenaise, get on your uncle’s horse or on another, it matters not to me, but do it instantly or we leave you here to die. I value my own skin and have risked it enough for one day.”
“That one over there.” She was pointing to a stocky gray cart-horse.
“Good! Get him and mount quickly while I free these others.”
At my call Marshlegs had run up to me. Barrenaise and I mounted while Pell whipped out her knife and went along the pole, slashing reins on the guardsmen’s horses and on all the others as well. Just as she swung onto her own horse, there was a shout as someone in the tavern saw what she was doing. Guardsmen came pouring out of the front doorway in a great cloud of smoke with their swords flashing.
“Follow me and do not for your life look back!” Pell gave a spine-chilling howl like an Oolanth cat. The newly freed horses scattered just as the men lunged at them, too late. I was barely able to hold onto Marshlegs. Barrenaise next to me was struggling to keep her seat. That was the last I saw of the tavern that night. We went through the town at a mad pace, twisting and turning in the dark streets, trying to keep up with Pell. Her horse did not look like much, but what he lacked in looks he certainly made up for in speed.
From behind us came shouts, “Get them! Catch them! They went that way!” With my hands in the horse’s mane I clung to her back, hearing horses behind me and never knowing if it was Barrenaise or the loose horses or if we were about to be overtaken by the guard.
Suddenly we took a sharp turn and the street wound up a hillside. I could still hear Pell ahead of me, or at least I hoped it was Pell. At moments I caught glimpses of smoke and fire below, but soon the noise faded behind us, the buildings thinned, and the pace slowed. Out of the darkness in front of me I heard Pell say, “We can walk now for a while and let the horses catch their breath. This is not a road many know of. Certainly no Shokarn guardsmen will think to come this way.”
Instantly my pace fell to a walk. I heard Barrenaise move up beside me. Pell was whistling and calling softly. Some of the freed horses trotted up to us, snorting and nickering. “Well, well, we are in luck,” Pell said cheerfully. “Not only have we escaped with our lives this night, but with horses as well.” She seemed more elated than frightened by this brush with danger. I was going though my own struggles with fear. Barrenaise, on the other side, was shaking and panting heavily. Her uncle’s poor horse was stumbling along with his sides heaving and his breath loud and ragged. He, no doubt, was used more often for fetching eggs and flour than for outrunning the guard.
Soon the road narrowed till it became a winding track, wide enough for one horse only. We went for a while in silence along what seemed like a high rocky ridge. The moon had begun to rise, lighting the tall trees overhead. Shortly after that we reached a large boulder, where Pell stopped.
“We can rest here and finish our meal. After this the ride gets harder.” I thought it already hard enough, but I kept my silence. Pell pulled a ragged blanket from her pack, shook it out, and spread it on the ground. “Our tablecloth,” she said with a bow. “And now for our elegant dinner.” She took out her little leather food pouch and shook the contents onto a plate that also came from her pack. To this she added two loaves of bread, a round of cheese, another of butter, some silverware, and a small bottle of quillof. “This is not the best-planned dinner because of some haste in preparation, but we do have a surprise.” With that she drew out a covered bowl that she had wrapped in a napkin. This last item she opened and set down in the middle with a flourish.
Barrenaise gasped with surprise. “The Commissioner’s dinner,” she said in amazement.
“Well, I did not think he would miss it much. He has else to think on tonight. Eat now before it all gets cold. It is already a little scrambled from our ride.” With a quick gesture Pell pulled her knife from her boot and stuck it into the bread. Speedily, we all sat down together on the blanket. Surrounded by horses, we ate our fill, sharing the bottle of quillof to the last drop. When we had finished what we could and packed the rest away, Pell said, “Now, you will follow me in silence. Keep your heads low over your horses’ necks and try to break no branches.” Again, she whistled and called and I could feel a strong mind tug.
A little ways past the boulder we turned and the woods began to change. The trees became strange and twisted. The low-hanging branches seemed to claw at us with a will. As we plunged into the deeper forest, the moonlight could barely reach through the thick growth. Light and shadow were oddly distorted and gave no guidance. I had to trust to Marshlegs to get me through and to Pell’s knowledge as well. Barrenaise’s fear was like a presence among us, but for me at that moment I had left fear back there with people. Exhausted, I put my head down on Marshlegs’s neck and my arms on either side of it. I was fed, I was safe for the moment. I let myself be carried wherever fate and the Goddess saw fit to take me.
Chapter Four
“Time for your help.” My shoulder was being roughly shaken. “I was sitting slumped on Marshlegs’s back and woke to see a torch blazing and many horses milli
ng about. We were in front of a small shelter tucked under a rock overhang. The one who shook me, this woman I knew as Pell, began unsaddling horses in great haste. The other one, Barrenaise, lay on the ground like a dumped grain sack, but alive and breathing. Pell, seeing my glance in that direction, said quickly, “She is no use for now. This night has been too much for her. We will take her in and cover her as soon as this work is done. Off your horse now and lend me your hands.”
First Pell had me hold each horse’s head while she daubed with dark stain at any light blaze or identifying mark. The horses were in a state of nervous agitation, snorting and shifting about, but Pell was able to calm them, talking and humming and petting as she moved among them. Goddess knows if I really helped or not. I was sleeping on my feet. I think it more likely that each horse in turn held me upright.
Next, nothing would do but that we must strip all the tack from the horses and conceal it in a pit near the shelter. Afterward we covered and disguised this pit with a careful crisscross of branches and then leaves. With every step I took I had to drive myself forward, all the while trying not to stumble and fall headlong into the pit. Pell, for her part, seemed to move with a tireless ease, talking constantly as she worked. “The guard does not take well to having their horses stolen—almost as serious a crime as killing guardsmen. Their tack is clearly marked in several places. It will take some work to alter it. Until that can be done it is best to keep it hidden.” Personally, I cared not one whit why we did what we did, only that it be finished soon so I could sleep again.
When we were done and Barrenaise had staggered into the shelter between us and been covered, I fell face forward, still fully clothed, onto a mat Pell provided for me. I hoped to sleep at once, but soon Pell was shaking me awake again. With a groan of protest I turned to look at her. She bent over me, and as the torchlight lit her face I gave a gasp of fear, thinking some stranger stood there. She had put on different clothes and a mustache and so looked older and stouter by ten years.
