Authors: Julia Golding
Tags: #General, #Action & Adventure, #Juvenile Fiction, #Fantasy & Magic, #Social Issues, #Royalty, #Juvenile Nonfiction
"Then I will wait without hope, because I must."
With a final farewell to Nerul, the party headed out on the paths winding across the Fens. Tashi nudged her horse in line behind Melletin, trying not to think too much about what lay ahead, nor worry about the suitor she had left behind. Her inexperience as a rider helped as she spent so much time concentrating on her mare, Flake, that she forgot to fret. For some miles, they rode in silence through the freezing mist, each absorbed in his or her own thoughts. The cold was penetrating. Tashi had to keep flexing her fingers to stop them from turning to ice. Finally, Melletin signalled a halt in a clump of willows.
"This is a good spot--the last shelter before we reach the main north-south road."
Immediately, Ramil was at Tashi's stirrup to help her dismount but then walked back to tend to his own mount. Tashi chewed her lip, wondering how they could break this awkwardness between them. Before she could think of anything, Yelena came up to her and touched her discreetly on the shoulder.
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"Your Highness, there's a place where you and I can go if you would like a private bush."
"Thank you." Tashi followed the Brigardian woman off the path and into the rushes. "But you must call me Tashi, Yelena," she called to the warrior's straight back.
The woman turned and grinned. Her front tooth was chipped, giving her a roguish look, and her blue eyes sparkled with mischief. "That's good. I was worried you were going to be all stuck-up and formal with me."
"No, that's only for the men," Tashi admitted, jumping over a streamlet.
Yelena yelped with laughter.
"I never feel more foreign than when trying to understand them," Tashi confessed.
"Join the rest of us, sister. They are strange creatures. No wonder your people put their women in charge. I've often thought things would've been different if men like Fergox had been kept in their place."
"Ah yes, but then you'd have women like the Inkar running things. She is formidable."
"True. I had forgot her." Yelena showed Tashi a clear place on the bank to wash. "But you speak as if you've seen her."
"I have. And Ramil even danced with her."
"You are joking?"
Yelena found the idea of this so hilarious that she roared with laughter and had trouble standing. She still had not calmed down when they returned to the men, causing the others to exchange quizzical looks.
"What's so funny, Yelena?" asked Melletin.
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She shook her head, with not enough breath to string two words together.
"Women!" Ramil muttered to Gordoc, though his eyes were on Tashi who was caressing Flake with a secretive smile on her lips.
The travellers split up when they reached the main road. Melletin and Yelena were to scout ahead and ride back if there was trouble; otherwise they arranged to meet at the Yellow Dog, an inn on the border with Kandar.
"You have to be careful at the inn," Melletin warned. "The landlord is no friend to the resistance and a great enthusiast for the Empire. He's done very well by Fergox with all this traffic on the roads north."
"Is there nowhere else to stay?" Ramil asked.
"Why yes, indeed, but it is the last place Fergox's men would be looking for fugitives. If you brazen it out in the taproom there, they will hardly notice you.
But ask for a private room for your giant and the lady. They will attract more attention and should keep out of the public areas. Yelena and I will fall in with you as if by chance. Professor Norling, I trust you will ensure they do not go astray?"
The professor flapped him away with his hand. "Of course, Melletin. I was travelling these roads before you were born."
The two fighters rode off on their hardy horses, urging them through the ice-covered ruts in the
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churned-up road. Tashi drew her veil over her face, now seeing the world through purple gauze. On the wider path, the four riders fell into pairs.
Norling dropped behind with Gordoc and began to quiz him on his fitness regime, probing the secret of the man's exceptional strength. Ramil rode with Tashi, though he sat high above her, awkward for talking.
"Here, slacken the reins a little. Flake's mouth is tender and she's not comfortable," he said, noticing the mare fretting.
Tashi did as instructed, keeping her counsel behind the veil.
"You're doing well, for a beginner," he added, trying to strike upon a neutral subject.
"Yes, that is surprising, considering my teachers," she replied coolly.
Ramil believed himself reprimanded. They rode on in silence.
"I'm sorry about what I said to you the other night," he said at length, knowing the words had to be spoken sooner or later. "I should've realized that you and Merl weren't ..."
"Yes?"
"Well, that you
weren't."
"That is very well explained, Ram." She laughed. The sound made his stomach flip over. "And I'd like to thank you for the flower."
"Did you like it?" He wanted to ask if he had finally got something right.
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"I'm afraid I sat on it." Her shoulders were shaking. He wondered for a moment what was so funny, then realized she was thinking of the dragonfly.
He joined in good-humoredly. "I'm afraid our love tokens are doomed."
That brought her up short. "Love token?" She glanced up at him, her eyes glinting through the veil.
He looked down at his hands. "Why? What did you think it was?"
"I didn't know. You'd just told me I made you feel bad."
"But you said that Blue Crescent men present them to their ladies."
"You listened to me? I mean, you were trying to be . . . ?" She floundered for a word.
"Sensitive. Yes, I, Ramil ac Burinholt, obviously well known for my cultural diplomacy, was attempting to be the ideal lover."
"But you don't like me . . . not like that!" Tashi protested. Her mind was trying to catch up with this new information. "Or are you merely trying to reopen negotiations on a marriage alliance?" she asked suspiciously. "Because if you are, I was going to argue with my sisters that they should offer our navy without that. I wouldn't want you to be yoked to someone you can't be happy with."
"Tashi, look at me."
"I am."
"But I can't see you through that veil."
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"Then you'll just have to trust me."
Ramil smiled. "I wanted to give you the flower just as a boy would give a girl a present--not because you are a princess, or an ally, or for any of those reasons. It came with no conditions, no schemes, except perhaps the hope that you might like me just a little better."
"Then I accept it and thank you." Tashi felt a burst of happiness. She'd got it al wrong: he did like her.
"So what's next?" asked Ramil, feeling very pleased with himself.
"How do you mean?"
"What should a boy do now?"
"On the Islands, you'd write a poem in praise of my eyebrow," Tashi said teasingly. "Around here, you'd kiss me." She spurred her pony forward, leaving him wondering.
The Yellow Dog was a prosperous half-timbered thatched house
strategically placed at the bridge over the river that formed the boundary with Kandar. As they rode up at dusk, the mullion windows on the ground floor streamed with light, indicating that the place was already bustling with visitors. Gordoc and Professor Norling took charge of the horses while Ramil negotiated for a private room for "his sister" to dine. The landlord was a fat, bald man with a sharp expression, his gaze flicking from side to side as he bargained, keeping an eye on the doings in the taproom. Ramil glimpsed Melletin and Yelena at a table, already embarked upon
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supper, but they made no sign that they knew the newcomers.
"You can have the room down the corridor, sir," the landlord said. "Though we're going to be pressed to find you a bed tonight. This lady--you say she's your sister?"
"Yes." Ramil adopted the superior air and the guttural accent of the Southerners.
"She'll have to share with someone, as will you, sir, with that old fellow you came in with. I'll see what I can do. A couple arrived just ahead of you.
Perhaps I can sort something out with the lady."
"That would be acceptable."
"Your servant will have to make do with the barn."
"He will be happy with whatever I tell him to do."
"You know best, sir. Now I'll see to your supper."
Leaving them alone in front of the fire in the little sitting room, the innkeeper bustled out, shouting orders to his staff as he closed the door. Tashi reached to remove her veil, but Ramil shook his head and put his finger to his lips. He strode to the door and opened it suddenly, revealing the innkeeper bent double on the other side. Ramil pretended not to notice the man's odd posture.
"Where is my slave?" Ramil snapped.
"I'll send him to you directly, sir," the innkeeper said in a wheedling tone, backing away.
Ramil closed the door and sat down beside Tashi at the table.
"Sorry, but you'll have to stay covered," he whispered.
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"We've heard he's Fergox's man. No doubt he's paid to spy on travellers."
"Oh well." Tashi sighed. "I rather like this veil. It allows me to be more myself somehow. I don't have to worry about what anyone's thinking."
"But that's exactly why I hate it. I've no idea what's going on under there."
The innkeeper soon returned with the supper on a tray, Gordoc behind him with the bags.
"Where is the doctor?" asked Ramil brusquely.
"He fell into conversation with some people, sir," Gordoc said, rather overdoing his performance by tugging his forelock. "Told you to eat without him. I'm to have mine in the kitchen."
"Off you go. But don't forget to clean my boots before you go to bed!"
Gordoc winked at Tashi as he left.
The innkeeper served a hearty supper of meat, cheese, and bread, washed down with ale. He watched bemused as Tashi's share disappeared under her veil.
"My sister is in mourning, sir," Ramil said, meeting his look. "Her husband served with me in the army but died at Midwinter."
"Beg your pardon, ma'am," the innkeeper said obsequiously. "My sympathy for your loss. But you, sir, you fought for the great Spearthrower?"
"Yes. I was part of the garrison at Felixholt. Too cold for my liking."
The innkeeper leant against the mantelpiece, settling
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in for a good chat. "So you were there when the witch escaped then?"
"Indeed I was, to my great sorrow. My sister's husband was killed when that woman fled."
The innkeeper spat on the hearth. "Curse the demon. What was she like?"
"Ugliest girl you've ever seen." Ramil reached under the table and took Tashi's hand. "Glaring eyes like hot coals: Hair all stringy and colorless--not natural. Smelt of brimstone."
"Aye, that's what the others are saying. They can't find her--they think she's fled into Gerfal by now, but Lord Fergox says he's going to root her out and see she doesn't bewitch any more with her spells." He shook his head. "If I were Gerfal, I'd throw her back into the sea where she came from. She'll bring them nothing but bad luck."
"But bad luck for Gerfal is good luck for us, no?" Ramil suggested.
The innkeeper chuckled. "I suppose you're right, sir. Just ring if you need anything else."
Ramil sighed with relief when the talkative landlord finally decided to go, but he didn't get very far with his supper before Tashi swatted him in the stomach.
"Hot coals? Stringy hair?"
He laughed. "Shh! You know I was only saying what I had to say in front of him."
"But those words occurred to you--you must have thought them!"
Ramil scratched his head, knowing that he was probably damned whatever he said now.
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"Well, your eyes can blaze when they're angry. I bet they're blazing now.
And compared to us, your hair is pale--not that it doesn't have a most wonderful color. Um . . . stringy--well, you had been in prison for a while."
"Ram!"
"But you always looked beautiful to me." He put his arm around her. "May I?"
he asked.
She nodded, wondering what he was going to do.
He leant forward and sniffed. "Not a hint of brimstone. Just mud and horses."
"What!"
"But I like horses."
"Ram, if you were thinking of making more attempts at winning my affections, I don't think this is the recommended practice in any part of the known world."
"So I still have a chance?" He pulled her snugly against him so she fitted in the crook of his arm.
"Not like this you won't. And don't forget, we are supposed to be brother and sister."
"Ah yes." He dropped his arm. "What a shame."
Tashi shared a bed that night with Yelena. They locked themselves in a little room at the top of the inn, leaving the men sleeping in a dormitory on the floor below. "The house is packed with soldiers," Yelena said as she brushed Tashi's coppery hair for her. "Most are on their way north. It seems that Fergox is strengthening the garrisons on the road to protect his convoys."
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"Yes, that's what I would do in his position," murmured Tashi as she took the brush and returned the favor for Yelena, sweeping the girl's long dark hair into a plait for the night.
Yelena yawned. "Looking at you, I forget that when you say these things, you actually do have men and navies and things to order. You look no older than my little sister. How old are you?"
"Sixteen."
"Then you're younger than she is! I find it incredible."
Tashi climbed into bed, pulling the covers up to her chin. "So do I. Every day. But what I find more incredible is that you can fight hand to hand like you do."
Yelena shrugged. "Takes practice, that's all."
"Do you think you could show me?" Tashi asked tentatively. "I've been in quite a few situations recently where I could have used some clever moves."
"Yes, like in Felixholt." Yelena nodded sympathetically.
"Actually, I was thinking about when Merl trapped me in the stables."