“Sorcery,” Dorna said, as she fished out another of the golden-boot-heel talismans. “It’s all sorcery.”
“Dorna,” Irien said, “you don’t have your bag.”
“That’s right,” Dorna said. Kel was amazed she didn’t say something a little more pointed, where it had taken Irien so long to notice the bag’s absence.
“Ezak stole it?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
Dorna stopped rummaging and straightened up, but did not look at her friend. Instead she let out a long, slow breath and said, “I’ll tell you later.”
“It was my fault,” Kel said.
Dorna turned, startled, to look at him. “No, it wasn’t,” she said.
“I shouldn’t have left him there.”
“I shouldn’t have left him there!” Dorna replied. “I was the one with the weapon.”
Kel tightened his lips and did not respond. Dorna stared at him for a moment, then said, “Give me that.”
Kel handed her the fil drepessis, and she heaved it up into the wagon. Then she pushed a few things around, pulled the cloth covering back into place, and turned to face Kel and Irien. “You’re absolutely sure he’d go to Ethshar of the Sands?”
“Yes,” Kel said. “He doesn’t know anywhere else.”
“You don’t think he might realize we’d look for him there, and try somewhere else?”
Kel considered that, thinking carefully about how Ezak would behave, then shook his head. Ezak had had enemies looking for him before, and had never tried to leave the city. “Ethshar is very big, and he knows it much better than you do. He has a hundred hiding places, and he wouldn’t know how to find a fence anywhere else.”
“Ethshar it is, then,” Dorna said. “There’s no sense in putting it off. Irien, pay this fine young man whatever you promised him, give him an extra two bits from me, and then let us get out of here.”
“I need to pay the innkeeper, too, and fetch things from our room…”
“Then go do it,” Dorna snapped. “I want to get moving.” She held out the boot-heel-shaped talisman and rubbed her thumb along one side of it; Kel thought he could see something shift and twist on its surface as she did.
“Can you find him?” Kel asked.
“Maybe,” she said. “There’s something in that direction.” She pointed toward one side of the yard, the side Kel judged to be in the general direction of Ethshar.
Irien fished coins from a purse on her belt and gave them to the boy as Dorna fiddled with her talisman. The boy accepted the money happily, jumped down from the wagon, then stood to one side, watching; he obviously found these people far more interesting than anything else in Shepherd’s Well.
Irien then turned and headed to the inn while Dorna went back to the wagon and straightened the cover. Kel stood aside, and glanced at the boy.
“I’m Bern,” the boy said.
“I’m called Kel,” Kel replied.
“Are you a magician?”
Kel shook his head. “No.”
“She is, though?” Bern jerked his head toward Dorna.
“Sort of,” Kel said. “Her husband was a sorcerer.”
“Was? Did he lose his magical powers?”
“He died.”
“Did one of his spells go wrong?”
“No.”
“Then what happened?”
Kel turned up an empty hand. “He just died.”
“Was he hundreds of years old?”
Kel shook his head.
“I heard that magicians can live for hundreds of years.”
“That’s wizards,” Kel said. “I don’t think sorcerers do.”
Dorna looked up from the wagon. She had obviously overheard some of the conversation. “Some of them live a long time,” she said as she turned around. “Not as long as wizards, but over a century.”
“Oh,” Bern said.
“My husband Nabal didn’t, though,” Dorna continued. “He was sixty-three when he died. His heart stopped.”
“Oh,” Bern said again.
“He had magic that might have saved him if he’d ever thought to use it on himself,” Dorna added. “But he didn’t.”
“I’m sorry,” Kel said.
“He didn’t know there was anything wrong. If he had, he could have healed his heart, the way I healed your friend’s head,” she said, looking directly at Kel.
Kel could not think of anything to say, and just looked back at Dorna. Bern cast a nervous glance at Kel, and decided not to say anything, either.
“He thought he had plenty of time,” Dorna said. “So did I.”
“Have you healed your heart?” Kel asked.
“I checked,” she said. “It doesn’t need healing. Not that way, anyway.”
“I hope it heals the other way,” Kel said.
Dorna stared at him for a moment, then said, “I’ll get the oxen.” Her voice sounded oddly unsteady.
While Dorna was gathering draft animals and Irien was settling the bill, Kel found himself and Bern in the stableyard with the unguarded wagon—or at least, no one obvious was guarding it. He glanced at Bern. “Did you take anything from the wagon?”
Bern considered Kel for a moment, and then said, “No. Did you?”
“No. But my partner did.”
“You have a partner?”
“Ezak of Ethshar. He got away with a whole bag of sorcery.” Kel’s voice rang with pride as he said that, but at the same time he was embarrassed.
Bern thought this over, looking from Kel to the wagon, and back again. “Where is he, then?”
“He got away,” Kel repeated.
“But he’s your partner?”
“Yes.”
“Then why aren’t you with him?”
“I…I was busy,” Kel replied, his pride vanished.
“So he just left you with that woman?”
Kel paused before answering, “Yes.”
“That doesn’t sound like much of a partner. Is he going to come back for you?”
“No,” Kel admitted. “But when I find him he’ll give me a share of the loot.”
“It sounded to me like the bossy one was going to find him for herself.”
“Well…yes,” Kel acknowledged. “But when Ezak gets away from her again, if there’s any loot left, I’ll get a share.”
“Does she know that?”
Kel frowned. This conversation was not going the way he wanted it to. He had wanted to brag about being partners with someone clever enough to steal a bag full of magic, but this boy didn’t seem very impressed. It was true that Kel didn’t really think he would get a share of Ezak’s loot, because he didn’t expect Ezak to be able to sell it before Dorna found him and took it all back, but he hadn’t expected Bern to realize that.
“I don’t know,” he said.
“She seems to trust you,” Bern said. “Does she know you’re the thief’s partner?”
“Yes.”
“Then why doesn’t she have you locked up?”
“I didn’t steal anything,” Kel said. “I helped her get that fill-dirt-presses thing back. We blew up a Northern sorcery, too.”
Bern frowned. “I don’t understand,” he said. “Are you on her side, or your partner’s side?”
Kel blinked at the boy. “I don’t know,” he said. He was startled to realize that he really didn’t know. Up until a few days ago he was always unquestionably on Ezak’s side, in everything, but he liked Dorna, and she had treated him fairly—generously, even. No one else had ever done that.
“Kel!” Dorna’s shout broke into Kel’s thoughts and interrupted the conversation before Bern could say anything more. “Get over here and give me a hand with this harness!”
Kel hurried to help, and Bern followed him. When Kel glanced back at the boy, Bern smiled. “Yoking oxen is easier with more hands,” he said. “It should be good for another two or three bits.”
It was indeed good for another three bits. Twenty minutes
later Bern stood in front of the inn, waving with one hand while the other clutched his pay, as Dorna and Irien drove their respective wagons out of the stableyard onto the road and turned them to the southeast, toward Ethshar of the Sands.
Kel was riding with Dorna on the lead wagon, and when they had gone perhaps half a mile she handed him the reins and said, “Here. Keep us on the road.”
Kel took the lines and watched as Dorna fished out the boot-heel talisman. “There’s a concentration of gaja ahead of us, in that direction,” she said, pointing ahead and slightly to the right. “It’s moving, so it’s probably him.”
Kel looked in the indicated direction. “There’s a fence,” he said. That side of the road was indeed lined with a rail fence for as far as he could see.
“I know. We’ll stick to the road for now.”
Driving the oxen did not take a great deal of concentration, so Kel had time to think as they rode on.
He thought Dorna was almost certainly going to catch up to Ezak eventually, and reclaim her stolen talismans. She had said she wouldn’t kill Ezak, so after she had her bag back she would probably let them go—or maybe she would have Ezak flogged first, and then let them go. Kel winced at the idea of Ezak being flogged; having been through it himself, he knew how staggeringly painful and humiliating it was. He might have to spend a sixnight or so nursing Ezak back to health; he certainly couldn’t afford to pay for healing magic, and he doubted anyone else was going to provide it.
But Dorna might be satisfied with just getting her things back. That would be nice. Then he and Ezak would go back to their old life, as it had been before Ezak’s uncle told them about the dead sorcerer with a houseful of magic—stealing coins in taverns, running errands for a bit or two, and so on.
Kel looked around at the green fields stretching off in all directions, a flock of birds soaring in the blue sky ahead, a farmer with a tool of some kind poking at the ground off to the left, and for an instant he wondered if he really had to go back to living in alleys or attics, spending his nights grabbing for dropped coins in crowded taverns stinking of sweat and spilled beer.
But how could he possibly do anything else?
CHAPTER ELEVEN
They were nearing the great stone towers of Grandgate, the main entrance to Ethshar of the Sands, and Dorna was frowning as she tapped at her talisman. “It’s somewhere over that way,” she said, pointing to the left. “I can’t tell whether it’s in the city or not.”
“Smallgate is in that direction,” Kel said.
She glanced at him. “Smallgate,” she said thoughtfully. “Is there an actual gate in Smallgate? A way into the city?”
“Of course,” said Kel, startled. “Why else would they call it that?”
“Maybe because there used to be one, a couple of hundred years ago,” Dorna answered. “Names don’t always change when they should.”
Kel could not argue with that. “There’s a gate,” he said. “It isn’t always open, though.”
“I didn’t know Ethshar of the Sands had more than one gate,” Dorna said. “Everyone uses Grandgate. Or arrives by sea.”
“The highway only goes to Grandgate,” Kel said.
Dorna considered this, looked at the towers ahead, and then at the talisman in her hand. “So how many gates are there?” she asked.
“Four.”
“Grandgate, Smallgate—what are the others, Mediumgate and Tinygate?”
“Beachgate and Northgate,” Kel said. He pointed to the west. “They’re over that way.”
Dorna looked in that direction, then shook her head. “We need to go south,” she said. “I guess we’re bound for Smallgate.” She chirruped to the oxen and tugged on the reins, urging them off the highway onto one of the ill-defined lanes that led through the maze of huts and market stalls that lined the approaches to Grandgate.
Kel looked around worriedly. In particular, he looked back at the wagon, and at Irien’s wagon behind Dorna’s. He saw the locals watching as the wagons passed by, and saw that some of them were inching nearer. He turned and glanced ahead, and saw groups of children muttering among themselves.
“Stop,” he said. “Stop right now.”
“What?” Dorna had already been dividing her attention between the reins and her tracking talisman, and this new distraction seemed to be confusing her.
“Stop!” Kel shouted. “Stop here, and get your weapon out!” He drew his own belt-knife, wishing he had a club or a sword, or anything with more reach.
Dorna yanked on the reins, then turned and demanded, “What’s wrong?”
“Get out your weapon now,” Kel ordered, as he got to his feet. He saw Irien stop her own wagon, her oxen’s noses only a foot or so from the back of Dorna’s wagon, and he saw half a dozen men and women closing in behind.
“Get away!” Kel shouted. He pointed at Dorna. “She’s a sorcerer, and if you touch either of these wagons, or anything in them, she’ll blow your head off!”
Finally grasping the situation, Dorna stood as well, brandishing the black weapon that had destroyed the Northern sentry talisman. She did not speak.
“Blast anyone who gets too close,” Kel said, as he sat down and grabbed the reins. He called over his shoulder, “Irien! Stay close!” Then he shook the reins and urged the oxen forward. Dorna swayed as the wagon started moving, but stayed upright and vigilant.
“It’s almost two miles to Smallgate,” Kel said. “We could double back to the highway.”
“Is it like this the entire way?” Dorna asked, not looking down at him.
“I don’t know,” Kel said. “I never came outside the walls. When Ezak and I left we went out through Grandgate, and anyway, we didn’t have anything worth stealing.”
“Turn back,” she said.
Kel nodded, and tugged at the reins, turning the oxen to the right, into the gap between a ragged blue tent and a rough wooden stall displaying old tools for sale. People who had been watching the whole thing reluctantly made way.
“Hai!” Dorna called, pointing her weapon at something behind them. Kel did not look, but urged the oxen forward, trying to coax more speed from the lumbering beasts.
A moment later they were back on the highway, and bound for Grandgate. The people who had been crowding close to the wagons had vanished, and after a final wary glance Dorna sat down—though Kel noticed she kept the weapon ready in her hand. Sweat gleamed on her brow, and while the weather was warm, Kel doubted it was entirely due to the heat.
“What was that about?” she asked.
“The city guard doesn’t go there,” Kel said. “They keep the highway clear, and everything inside the walls is under their protection, but that’s all.”
“So—what would have happened? Who are those people?”
Kel turned up an empty palm. “They’re just people. Some of them don’t have anywhere else to stay, so they live here. Some live in the city, or other places, but they come here to sell things. Sometimes it’s things the guards wouldn’t let them sell in the city markets. But they all steal things, if you give them a chance. They’ll come up to the back of a wagon and grab whatever they can, then run with it. Usually it isn’t anything valuable, so no one bothers to go after them.”
Dorna considered this for a moment, then said, “Threatening to kill them seems excessive.”
“They wouldn’t listen to less,” Kel said. “And if one of them got something from your wagon, and the others found out you have an entire wagon full of magic, they would have mobbed us and stolen everything.”
“You seem very sure of this,” Dorna said. “I thought you said you’d never been out here.”
“I heard about what it was like out here,” Kel said.
“You believed it?”
“It happens some places inside the walls, too.”
“Where?”
“Smallgate.”
“So you’ve seen people do that? Grab things off wagons?”
“I was one of them,” Kel said.
Dorna did not say anything for a moment, but sat silently, the weapon in her hand, as they rode into the shadow of Grandgate’s towers.
“I thought you said the guard protected people inside the walls,” she said.
“They do,” Kel said. “But they can’t be everywhere at once, and I knew where to hide from them.”
There were half a dozen soldiers in red and gold standing in front of the immense open gates, watching as civilians hurried in and out of the city; one of them waved to Kel, and he brought the wagon to a halt. The guardsman ambled toward them, spear in hand, sun glinting from his breastplate.
“So you stole things off wagons?” Dorna asked quietly.
“Yes,” Kel said, hoping she would not say anything too incriminating once the soldier was in earshot.
“Ever get anything good?”
“Not really. This tunic I’m wearing is probably the best thing I ever stole that way.”
She turned to stare at the old red tunic just as the guardsman trotted the last few steps and said, “Hai! What’s in the wagon?”
Startled, Dorna looked from Kel to the guard. “What?”
Kel jerked his head toward Dorna. “It’s hers,” he said. “I’m just helping.”
The soldier nodded. “So what have you got there?” he asked Dorna. He set the butt of his spear on the ground by his foot, and gestured at the wagon with his free hand.
Dorna looked helplessly at Kel.
“He just wants to know whether you’re bringing anything illegal,” Kel said, trying to sound reassuring. “They stop any wagon they don’t recognize.”
“How am I supposed to know what’s illegal here?” Dorna asked uneasily.
Kel sighed. He turned to the guard. “She’s a sorcerer’s widow,” he explained. “She’s brought her husband’s magic to sell.”
The guard frowned. “Is any of it dangerous?”
“Yes,” Kel said, before Dorna could react. She glared at him.
The soldier just nodded, then turned his head and bellowed over his shoulder, “Amdis! Get over here!”
“What are you doing?” Dorna hissed to Kel. “Why did you say that?”
“You don’t want to lie,” Kel said quietly. “Sometimes they have magic that can tell.”
“So you just tell him that I have dangerous magic?”
The Sorcerer's Widow Page 10
