Dragonfly

by Julia Golding

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  in the back. One bandit already lay in the dust, killed by a kick from Thunder.

  "Keep away from the horses!" yelled the leader, realizing too late that these were trained for combat.

  Professor Norling had drawn a cane from his waistband and was belaboring a bandit around the head as he tried to make off with the baggage horse.

  "Not my instruments!" he shouted in outrage.

  Tashi didn't see what happened to him next because Gordoc barged in front of her, cutting off an attack by three staff-wielding men. She heard a shriek from behind and turned to find Yelena being pulled from the saddle by two assailants. One Tashi struck with a stone but she had no time for a second as a man dropped from the trees, knocking her to the ground with him on top of her.

  "Let's see what we've got under here!" He reached for her veil and pulled it off. "Another pretty wench!"

  He got no further--a foot kicked him in the jaw, catapulting him backwards.

  Yelena stood over Tashi, crouching in combat stance, her own attacker a crumpled heap on the road. Tashi scrambled to her feet and positioned herself behind Yelena, swinging her sling, searching for the next mark.

  Ramil was fighting two men--one fell to a stone, the other he ran through with an efficient swipe.

  "Retreat! Retreat!" shouted the leader.

  The bandits who could still walk stumbled off into the trees, dragging their wounded with them. That left four on the ground: one killed by Thunder, one by Ramil, and two crushed by Gordoc's bare hands.

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  Ramil limped over to the girls, sword still bloody.

  "Are you all right?" he asked anxiously, stabbing his blade into the ground so he could hug Tashi.

  "Yes, thank you, sir," Yelena said with a grin. "Thank you for being so concerned about me."

  She did not stand uncared for long as Melletin was soon at her side asking the same question. Professor Norl-ing and Gordoc swiftly caught the horses and brought them to the girls.

  "We'd better get going before they come back," said Melletin. He grimaced at the bodies lying in the road. "What a waste--half-starved, desperate, now dead. The Inkar has a lot to answer for to her people."

  They reached the border between Kandar and Holt three days later. All were heartily sick of forests and looked forward to the open plains of Fergox's land, though they knew they would soon miss the cover the trees had provided. Melletin showed Tashi and Ramil a map, rolling it out on a log at their final stopping place before the checkpoint.

  "Tigral is way down to the southwest," he said, pointing to the capital on the shores of the Inland Sea. "We have a choice, risk going straight for it--it is the most direct route but it's also the most dangerous. The lands between are rich. There are plantations, vineyards, big towns and cities: in short, lots of people on the road. If we go south we can skirt round to the sea by the desert region, not going into the sand zone, but

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  keeping to the edge. It's a longer, tougher road but perhaps safer."

  "Longer, tougher, and safer sounds good to me," said Ramil.

  "But we don't have the time to go so far out of our way," argued Tashi.

  "We'll have even less time if we end up in one of Fergox's prisons," Ramil countered.

  "But what good is my country's aid if it arrives too late? It's already February and we still have weeks of travelling ahead of us. The thaw will come in late March or April and it will take my navy at least a month to sail to Gerfal."

  "You speak, Tashi, as if Gerfal will not last beyond that time. We will put up a stiff fight if I know my father. I would not expect the battle to be over in a few weeks--we might even last the summer."

  "And then there's the resistance harassing Fergox from the rear--he'll be made to regret he's stretched his supply lines so far," added Melletin.

  "So you both favor the longer route," Tashi said, her arms folded across her chest.

  "Yes, I do," said Melletin, rolling up the map.

  "I do too, Your Highness," seconded Ramil, his hands on his hips.

  But would it give them enough time? Tashi fretted. She closed her eyes for a moment, seeking wisdom in a silent prayer. Their mission was in the Goddess's hands. If She wanted them to succeed, the Mother would make it happen by Her own means.

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  "I will follow your advice unless we see a clear sign that we have chosen ill,"

  she said. "Then all I ask is that you be open to a change of plan."

  "Of course," said Ramil, rather pleased to have won this first battle of wills.

  "I'm open to any suggestion of yours."

  Tashi pelted him with a twig. "Don't: you sound like Merl when you talk like that."

  Ramil put his hand over his mouth, feigning horror. "I will not speak another word."

  "Good." Tashi smiled.

  Melletin proposed that they reorganize their party so that they no longer resembled the same group that passed the border a week ago.

  "In case the alarm has been raised since and they are on the lookout for us,"

  he explained.

  He suggested they fall into pairs: the girls together, posing as two servants off to find work; Ramil and the professor on their errand to the south; he and Gordoc as slave overseers, heading to the plantations around the shores of the Inland Sea.

  "We'll stick close together, but make no sign we are acquainted. The girls should go ahead so that they get through first. We'll follow close behind to be there for any trouble."

  "Don't worry, my dears," said the professor gallantly, "I'll rescue you from any difficulties."

  Yelena laughed and kissed the old man on the cheek. "Of course you will. I don't know why we bother with these other men, do you, Tashi?"

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  "But they are decorative, aren't they?" the Princess replied archly. It was fun to have a girl with whom she could gang up against the boys--she'd never had a friend like that before. "They give us something to look at on the boring stretches of the road." She let her eyes linger on Ramil, who appeared very warm all of a sudden.

  Yelena swung herself into the saddle. "My, my, Princess, I didn't know you could flirt."

  "I'm learning from a master--or should I say mistress--of that art," Tashi said with a bow.

  The girls trotted off, their joking tone replaced by seriousness once they were out of sight and had rejoined the road.

  "Do I look all right?" Tashi asked, touching her hair nervously. She felt exposed after the days spent looking at the world from behind a veil.

  "I suppose you don't mean 'How do I look in this?' You're wondering if they'll recognize you. No, sister, they won't think you're a princess, not dressed like a peasant and with hair that cries out your Brigardian ancestry."

  "Good. So will they let us through?" Tashi checked she still had her new set of forged documents safe in her saddlebags.

  "Let me do the talking and be prepared to bat your eyelashes at them. I don't think they'll see us as a threat--light relief maybe from their boredom, but not a threat. You can be thankful that men always underestimate us women."

  The two girls arrived at the checkpoint and joined

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  the queue moving slowly forward. There were plenty of other refugees from Kandar, all hoping for a better life in the big cities of Holt.

  The border guard peered out from his box at Yelena and Tashi when they reached the front of their line. He brightened up and smoothed his moustache.

  "Well, ladies, what brings you here?" he asked, unrolling their documents.

  "Off to Tigral, sir," Yelena said, bathing him in the full glow of her widest smile. "We hear there's work to be had for a pair of willing girls in the big houses."

  "I'm sure you'll have no difficulty finding a place," he said, stamping their papers with a flourish. "But you'd best find some company for the road." He leant forward and said conspiratorially, "All sorts of bad types on the move--

  soldiers, slavers, and now t
here's a rumor there's a witch of some sort on the loose."

  "Save us, sir!" Tashi gasped, touching her forehead in the sign she had so often seen in her vicinity. "I hope we don't run into her!"

  "So do I, my dears, so do I. Travel well!"

  Keeping a straight face, the two girls prodded their horses forward. Yelena allowed herself to laugh only when they had ridden through the border village. She then aped Tashi's expression of horror. "Oh, save us, sir, save us!" she said in a high voice. "You should have joined the players, Tashi; you're a natural."

  The girls found a secluded corner not far off the road and passed the time practicing the combat techniques Yelena had been teaching Tashi over the past week.

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  The men seemed to be taking a long time to catch up. The girls were just beginning to get anxious when they heard the sounds of heavy horses. They ran to the edge of the road and waved down their friends. Professor Norling was in a high dudgeon, his protests already vocal before he reached them.

  "They strip-searched me!" he burst out. "Me! Old enough to be their grandfather and they made me stand naked in the road, my things all unpacked in the mud!"

  "They were only doing their job," said Ramil wearily. He had evidently had much of this complaint to endure since leaving the border. "They're looking for enemies-- you must admit they had a point."

  "Point! To make the four of us--and those other men--stand in our birthday suits for all to see!"

  "Shame we rode on so quickly," Yelena murmured to Tashi.

  "I trust they did not subject you to the same indignity?" Ramil asked the girls delicately.

  "No, the guard was most helpful. Told us to beware of bad sorts on the road and waved us on our way," Tashi replied.

  "I'm pleased for your sake, my dears," said Professor Norling, "though I still think it very unfair."

  "Very stupid, you mean," Melletin muttered to Ramil. "I mean, who would you prefer to search?"

  Ramil did not have to think very long about his answer.

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  Riding through eastern Holt, Tashi was surprised to find it a beautiful country. Having met Fergox, she had expected it to reflect his character: harsh, warlike, and uncompromising, but instead it was a gentle landscape of meadows just awakening to the early southern spring; flocks of sheep and goats out to pasture, well tended vines and olive trees. The villages looked prosperous: houses with terracotta roofs and white-washed walls nestled together around the village temple. But there were jarring notes: at many crossroads they came across the bodies of Fergox's enemies, hanging in chains from scaffolds; the temples in the villages were decked in red war banners and the steps sprinkled with blood from recent sacrifices. Despite this, Tashi could not rid herself of the impression that Fergox's influence did not run deep, that if he was no longer in power, the people of this land would not find it difficult to return to a more peaceful existence.

  She expressed this view to Professor Norling, who was riding with them until the road divided, one branch to Tigral, another continuing to the desert regions.

  "Yes, my dear, eastern Holt has a rich culture of its own--not at all warlike.

  Fergox has his power base in the harsher mountainous west. His own people come from there. They are a seafaring nation, making up for what the land lacks with raids on more fortunate countries. But I'm sure you are very familiar with them because they form his pirate fleet. I would advise you to steer clear, if you can, on your journey home."

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  They passed a line of workers preparing the soil for sowing.

  "But look there, child," Norling said, pointing with his cane. "That reminds us that the beauty of this land is founded on rottenness. The fields are tilled by slave-labor, the mines worked by these same poor captives; even the poorest houses of the freeborn have their little slave to cook, clean, and mind the children."

  Tashi looked back at the workers and noticed that they each wore an iron collar.

  "How can the people bear it?" she asked.

  "The slaves, of course, have no choice. Most are taken from lands subject to Fergox, inferiors in the eyes of the Holtish people. As for the inhabitants, those that have a conscience about such things claim slaves are well looked after, part of the extended family. They predict the collapse of the Holtish economy if the slaves were liberated. Most owners don't worry too much about excuses--they just count the benefit to themselves."

  "Well, I think it an abomination," she said angrily.

  "And so do I." He fixed her with an acute look, reminding her that beneath his genial exterior was a razor-sharp mind. "And maybe you can do something to change it if you help defeat the warlord."

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  Chapter 15

  They bade farewell to Professor Norling where the road divided, seeing him safely attached to a party of pilgrims heading for the Great Temple of the Warmonger in Tigral. Three days later, as they travelled down the road to the south, Flake cast a shoe. Now far beyond Melletin's knowledge of the land, the five travellers debated whether to turn back to the last village or ride on in hopes of finding another forge.

  "I'd hate to retrace any step of this weary road," Melletin said. "I could ride ahead with Flake and find a smith if Tashi would not mind riding pillion with one of you."

  "She is welcome to ride with me," Ramil said quickly. "We've shared a saddle before."

  Yelena grinned at Tashi as the Princess mounted in front of Ramil.

  "Hey, Melletin!" Yelena said, a twinkle in her eye. "How about having some company on your errand? We don't know what lies ahead and you could do with some backup if there's trouble."

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  "Good thinking," replied Melletin, oblivious to the girl's hidden agenda. "Big man, would you come?"

  "No, I . . . " Gordoc began, then caught Yelena's eye. "I mean, yes, I'll watch your back for you."

  Melletin, Gordoc, and Yelena rode off quickly with Flake trotting riderless in tow.

  "Did she do that on purpose?" Ramil asked Tashi as he saw Yelena give them a final jaunty wave.

  "I think so," Tashi admitted. She leant back against him, conscious that they hadn't sat this close since they had begun to understand each other's feelings. They rode on in happy silence, taking delight in the opportunity to be together. It gave Ramil the chance to build up his courage for what he had wanted to say for some time.

  "Tashi, you know I love you, don't you?" he said sofly in her ear.

  She smiled: trust the son of a Horse Follower to woo in the saddle.

  "I thought we were already betrothed."

  "You broke it off, remember." He kissed the top of her head.

  "Oh yes, I suppose I did. I'm sorry about that."

  "I didn't deserve you. I don't deserve you now."

  "Well, as long as you know that." She turned and gave him a mischievous smile.

  He traced the line of her lips with his forefinger.

  She felt in her pocket and pulled out two tiny paper models. "I've kept them safe. You'd better have this one back." She gave him the dragonfly. "I improved it a little

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  when your attempt unfolded, but I haven't touched the horse: I like it just as it is."

  "I promise to take care of it."

  "And I'll take care of yours." She settled back against him, the paper horse held carefully in her hand.

  Ramil smiled down at the copper head beneath his chin, knowing that he never wanted to be apart from her again.

  That night the travellers decided to camp under the stars. They were approaching the warmer climes of the desert and no longer needed a roof over their heads at night. Added to this, Melletin reported that the village inn was hosting a party of slavers from the south, their captives shackled in the barn, and no one wanted to come to their attention. They rode through the village with their heads down.

  Finding a likely camping spot in a bend in the river, Yelena an d Tashi went off to bathe, leaving the men to make the fire. The horses strayed on t
he bank, picketed in reach of the water.

  "So, Ram," said Gordoc, skewering some goat's meat on a stick to roast, "do I have to thump you?"

  Ram shook his head. "Only very gently. A light pummelling. Or you could congratulate me: our marriage alliance is back on."

  Melletin clapped him on the shoulder. "Lucky man."

  Gordoc assumed a stern, fatherly expression. "And, young Prince, what are your prospects? Can you keep

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  my girl in the manner to which she has become accustomed?"

  Ramil laughed. "I hope I can do much better than that. So far, all she has known with me is prison cells and tents. As for my prospects, touch and go at best, but I don't think she minds."

  "Yes, and it's not every girl who comes with a navy attached," added Melletin.

  "Or so we hope," said Ramil, placing the skewer he had prepared for Tashi over the flames.

  They fell silent, listening to the delighted shrieks and laughter of the girls splashing in the water downstream. Melletin had a thoughtful expression at all this talk of marriage.

  Suddenly, Gordoc nudged Ramil. "Look sharp, Ram, we've got company."

  The three friends reached for their weapons and turned to face the road. A cart drew up, driven by a dark-skinned man wearing the loose robes of the south. Eight others of all nations jumped out of the back; the only thing they had in common was that they were heavily armed.

  "Here they are!" called the man. "I told you I saw them ride this way."

  The newcomers swarmed down the bank, making straight for the fire. Ramil stepped forward.

  "Peace, friends," he said. "How may we help you?"

  The cart driver returned the gesture. "If you would like to put down that shiny blade of yours and come with us, that would be a start."

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  "The start of what?" Ramil held the sword in guard position, shifting his weight, ready for an attack.

  There was another round of laughter from the river. The stranger nodded to three of his men. "That's the girls. Go get them."