If Crows Know Best (Mage of Merced Book 1) (19 page)

Annora explained she was repairing the tunic to be used when we attempted to hijack a wagonload of goods on the road. Joren’s eyes showed white all around like a spooked horse, but he set Morie back on her feet.

Annora continued, “We only have the one. I’ve tried to dye some fabric to match, using wine—”

“A sorry waste of wine, that,” Perk said.

“—but the color doesn’t last.” She gave Perk an austere look.

“We can steal some more from the wagon’s guards. Can you sew sea bags?” I asked. I pointed to the one Joren had brought. “Men can pose as sailors and move about town more easily, carrying one of these.”

Annora looked over the bag Joren placed in her hands, and Virda put in, “I’ve fashioned plenty of those over the years. Annora and I should be able to churn out a fair number quickly.”

“How do the lessons in Keltanese come along?” I asked as I took a piece of dried apple from the bowl on the table, and handed another piece to Joren. Gevarr was instructing the others in rough language used by soldiers and wagoneers. What Wils and I had learned under Da’s instruction was used more by gentle-folk, Gevarr told us.

“Morie picks it up quickest. Though she is not allowed in the lessons, somehow she hears the swear words. And forgets none of them.” Annora said this from behind her hand, and so softly I had to strain to hear it, but I saw Morie’s eyes flick in Annora’s direction. So, when Da came home somebody would have to explain why Morie swore like a Keltanese laborer.

When all the others were fed and settled for the night, Wils took me upstairs. He climbed onto a chair in the loft he and I had used to share, and felt about on top of a corner rafter. He handed me down a piece of dusty wood roughly a hand span square, then a drawstring sack of equal size but heavier weight. I found it stuffed with gold coins, the clinking muffled by carded wool. Wils and Da must have hollowed out a space in the rafter to hide money inside.

Wils put his finger to his lips when I started to speak, and held out his hand for the wood. He replaced it above, then led me out to the barn with the bag tucked under his tunic. Once we were out of sight of the house, crouched in a pool of lantern light, he said, “Let’s see how far short we fall. Count it.”

We had 110 gold coins. I goggled to think I had slept with such a sum overhead. “How did you think to put it in the rafter?” I asked Wils.

“Da said thieves and other searchers seldom think to look up. He showed me the place once before he went to market alone, so I would know where we had cash if needed. So, we have enough for the down payment, and a bit of time to scrounge the rest before delivery. If you truly think we won’t be handing our money into a deep well never to be seen again?” Wils gave me a stern, assessing look. He was trying to seem in charge like Da, I supposed.

“I don’t think Honni would have put me on to someone she did not trust, or that Orlo brought me to his cousin Zaffis as fresh meat. Beyond that, I cannot say. I have not thought of any alternative but stealing a wagon and team here ourselves, but then the Keltanese would be able to find out who we were more quickly, if we waylay them so near the harbour and home. This way, Zaffis and his folk are the thieves the enemy guard will be seeking.”

“If the smugglers come through for us,” Wils said.

“If you have another plan, let’s hear it,” I answered back.

“No,” he sighed. “I do feel we should hold back some of our coin, though, for our own future needs. What if we pay the third down, and then make our total investment seventy-five. Cobbel and I will start going about the village to get contributions, while you take the down money to Bale Harbour and see it gets in the right hands.”

I nodded, and could not help suggesting, “Take Joren Delyth with you. He is well-spoken and one of our troops, besides. His manners could help loosen purse strings.”

Wils agreed, despite it being my idea. We walked toward the kitchen door, where I found all three crows lined up on the roof’s edge. They watched Wils’s and my progress across the yard, heads turning in unison. Though difficult to be certain, I thought Gargle must be the largest. I would have to set Morie to naming the other two.

“Do they always stare at you like that?” Wils said with a shiver. “They look like mourners watching a funeral march.”

An ugly thought that sent a chill down between my shoulder blades. “They seem more cocky than solemn to me,” I answered. “I only wish I knew how I am calling creatures.”

“I was hoping you knew well enough that you could come on the road for our highwaymen strike, and tell the enemies’ horses to stop. So that Annora will leave off pestering me to bring her,” Wils said, lifting his lantern to see the trio of crows better.

Here was I, thinking I had a lot of fast talk ahead of me to be included in the journey. “I’ll be able to do that well enough,” I said quickly.
Just so long as Annora can teach me before we set out
, I added to myself. I sent a wish to be gifted in communicating with horses. I had sent up so many wishes and prayers already, what was one more?

CHAPTER 30

Wils and Miskin prepared a test message to be sent to Guthy’s: “ready here.” Annora and Virda coded this into a brief note which reported Virda’s safe return to her home. A Keltanese reading it would not suspect any subterfuge, surely.

We sent the note tied to a young goshawk, whose departure was accompanied by a flurry of caws and flapping from all three of our resident crows. Annora watched the uproar, and said, “You’d almost think they wanted to go in her place. You may be right, Judian, about a crow being less noticed in town. They are harder to enspell, though, with the delivery instructions. Being generally strong-willed.”

I had to agree with her. “Maybe we should send the hawks and owls to the chapel, and try to send a message to Guthy’s with Gargle. Or one of the other two crows, if they might know their way better to the harbour and back.” All three fluffed up their feathers and shook their open beaks at me. “I’ll set off in the morning to take the money to town, and check that our message found its way to the right house. Maybe we could send one with Gargle today? We’ll know at once whether we’ve succeeded, if Guthy has two notes in hand tomorrow. I’ll be home the next day, after I see if Wieser can find the harbourmaster’s kin. Provided Orlo can get the clothing to track them with.”

“Oh, I’m so in hopes she can find the little grandson, especially. I knew Wils would never say you nay about seeking them,” Annora said. I had not been so sure, but Wils had not denied the harbormaster’s favor would be a good thing to possess.

Annora wrote a second note then fixed Gargle a dose of what I called “destination potion” in my palm-sized leather book. I wrote down in its pages all she taught me since we returned from the caves. Written beside the recipe were the spell words to be spoken to the messenger to send it on its way. My little folio was more than half full, I noticed when I looked up the sending words.

“You call them and see which comes for this,” Annora said, handing me the nugget of meal mixed with leaves and buds from Guthy’s backyard. “You speak the sending words, too. It’s time you advanced your skill.”

I swallowed my nerves, and took a step to the porch rail. I laid the portion on the wood, and looked each of the crows in the eye, where they perched on the pump handle. “Which of you is going to town?” I asked.

Gargle flapped across the short distance to take the dose. I had suspected he would, and that’s why I laid it on the rail. He is not gentle. I held my right hand toward him palm out, and spoke the words Annora taught me, muttering under my breath as she did. The rising and falling inflection of the words was a part of the spell, and it all must be spoken on a single breath. She nodded approval of my attention to technique. Next, I took the duplicate note Annora placed in my hand, and Gargle stuck his leg out, standing on the other foot and half-spreading his wings to aid his balance. He waited while I secured it to his scaly leg with strips of suede, then mounted to the sky, calling loudly.

“It would not do to try to send him when stealth counted,” I said as I tracked him east with my hand shading my eyes.

His two compatriots regarded me from the pump handle. Morie chose that moment to appear with Murr in her arms. Both birds spread their wings on catching sight of the cat, but neither flew off. The vision of them sent Murr shooting over Morie’s shoulder into the kitchen. Though he was twice their size, there were two of them, and their display convinced him he was no threat to them. Rather the reverse.

Morie rubbed her shoulder and scolded the crows for being mean to the cat. She did not find it funny when I laughed, and stuck her lower lip out. To make peace, I said, “Have you thought of their names yet?”

“Mean and meaner,” she said, but then relented and told me. “One is Tock and the other is Clock. It’s what they say.”

“Which is which?”

“It doesn’t matter. Each of them says both.”

I was still puzzling over this when Wils, Cobbel and Joren came out to walk to the village. To the benefit of our fund drive, smithy Bar Estegg had returned home. He told all the folk how grand grateful he was for Annora’s help with birthing his new daughter, and mine in setting his boys to hiding the village’s goods from the soldiers. He pledged to help Wils and the others rout out currency from the folk who could spare it. We nearly had enough, and without putting in our last coins we hoped to keep.

###

It was a soft, breezy dawn when I set out for Bale Harbour the next morning. Spring peepers sang in the ditch water along the road. Da had showed me one once, a tiny little frog to make such a racket.
Something so small can make such a dent in the peace of a morning
, I thought.
I hope I can make as much of a dent in the Keltanese peace of mind
. Wieser walked with me, and I carried sacks of spun yarn for a reason to be coming to town. Our coins were wound into leggings under my boots. I’d been told I was too young to carry a seabag, as I wished to do. Virda said boys my age went to sea, but had to earn the right to carry gear by learning the rigging and sails, and how to steer by the stars. I would have liked to learn such things. Perhaps I would one day. But for now, I had another goal: to get my da home safe.

Wils and Annora had taken up for me regarding Virda not coming along this time. A short turnaround, they argued, and she had already shown me my way about the harbour. Thus, Virda helped sow the garden while I walked the harbour road. I did miss her company a little, though I would never say.

I counted thirty of our troops being marched along the road to the harbour, and the passing of seventeen wagons bound to town, and thirteen outbound. Each wagon had its complement of two mounted guards riding alongside. We were going to need more horses.

Guthy and Honni were happy to see me, though thankfully I only had to endure an embrace from Guthy. She showed me both copies of our message, so the goshawk and Gargle both found their way. Gargle in fact remained, squabbling with the chickens and waiting, to all appearance, for a reply to be sent.

“I’ll bring him back with me,” I laughed. “Unless there is news to send?”

“I won’t know until the sailors come back at supper,” Guthy told me.

I copied out the recipe and the sending spell for her, and she studied it earnestly. However, when I coached her in the cadence of the speech, she became more and more flustered.

“I have no talent for this! Only some people have the way of it—not Guthy!” she despaired at last.

“If you truly cannot master it, I know someone who will help.” I told her about Emoryn at the herb shop, and her offer of any aid we needed. “She is one who can do sending and other spells, I’m certain. Honni knows the way, I sent her there for more potion to keep the guard away from your larder. How does that go?”

“The same ones are never back twice, more’s the blessing. None came last night.” Guthy wiped her brow in relief, whether at being delivered from soldiers or the learning of magic, I could not say.

I made another copy of the sending spell for the apostate, which Honni said she would carry to him at the chapel. I asked her to put him on to Emoryn for aid with the spell, since he had already said he had no talent for it. My yarn I left for Guthy to trade in the shop Virda and I had visited, and told her to keep the goods she got there to pay for my night’s stay and all her help.

“Oh, tosh and that. ’Tis little enough Guthy does if it will help be rid of these brazen thieves that infest us.” Guthy said, but she did take the yarn and tuck it in her apron.

I bade Gargle wait at Guthy’s back door while Honni took me to her mum’s again to wait for Orlo. The passel of children had not forgotten me yet, and this time greeted and hung on Wieser as well. She tolerated all attentions paid to her ears and tail, and finally lay on her side to be petted by all. Donah Emeral insisted on feeding me lentil soup with bits of smoked meat in it, and black bread. I scraped the bowl clean.

Into this domestic scene breezed Orlo, grinning as usual. He carried a small bundle of clothes he said belonged to the hostage grandson, which the laundress had not washed. I set this aside. We conducted our business indoors and away from young eyes. Once he counted the coins, we bound them up in the leggings to make a packet that would not clink while carried. I asked him to tell Zaffis we would wait for delivery at the village smithy, since for a wagon to turn into his yard would seem natural, even at night. When he set off with a slab of bread and butter, he was whistling, our packet slung around his waist under his shirt.

I undid the twine that held the bundle of clothes, and saw that the boy was smaller even than Morie. A nightshirt and trousers of good cloth were rolled together inside. I called Wieser away from the children, and said, “Find this boy, Wieser. Lead me to him.” Wieser buried her nose in the clothes and snuffed deeply, then went to the door.

I thanked Donah Emeral for the food, and told Honni I would return to Guthy’s by curfew. Wieser and I went out, with me hoping she understood and
was
leading me to the boy.

I followed her up, down and around street and alley for most of two hours. I had begun to doubt her grasp of our errand, when she sat and barked outside the sawyer’s on the southern edge of town. The mill’s noise assaulted our ears, loud with shouting men peeling logs, stripping off branches and sawing planks. Straining teams of mules dragged the heaviest logs across the yard, while chains and pulleys hoisted others. The sharp smell of pine sawdust swirled everywhere, my nose could detect nothing else, but Wieser would not budge from her calm regard of the site.

Where would a small boy be best kept? Out of sight, and surely no one able to hear him with all this noise. I could see the largest central building which housed the saw works, but men walked in and out of it constantly. Two smaller shacks stood behind, one farther up a slope and surrounded by stacks of wood. I spoke to Wieser, and told her we would check the farthest shed first. We made our approach by circling around from the back of the property.

No Keltanese guards were in evidence, but I saw the door had been secured with a heavy hasp and padlock. The sawyer might secure tools and such within, I reasoned. But when I looked to Wieser, she commenced sniffing under the door and wagging her tail. I checked to be sure we were still out of sight of the men working below, and came around the side to pull myself up to a tiny window. Cloth had been tacked up as a curtain, but I could see inside through a gap at the bottom. In the dim interior, I could make out three shapes, one smaller and two larger, huddled on straw on the floor. A strong odor of pisspot leaked through the gap.

I let myself down from the window, and went around to the side closest to the huddled forms. I crouched there and knocked on the wall. “Psst,” I called, none too loudly. “Are you the harbourmaster’s kin?”

A moment passed, then, “Yes, yes. Who’s there? We are his wife and his son’s wife. And grandson, too.”

“I’m Judian. I’ve come to help you get away. I’ll come back at dark—”

“No, the guards come at dark when the mill stops. They gag us then, so we can’t call for help in the quiet hours.”

“I’ll have to get you out now, then. I’ll be right back.” I told Wieser to stay, then walked back around and into the mill yard through the front entrance. I tried to look as if I knew my destination, walking with purpose and not wandering. I looked for some tool to break into the shack.

I found a pry bar, and had just picked it up when a sour-faced, jowly man called out, “Boy, you!” and pointed at me. I went over to him, what else could I do? He shoved a fistful of papers at me.

“Take these to that blockhead Nagmus. And tell him not to take all day sending them back to the ship after he’s done with them!”

I took the papers and set off toward what I prayed was where a person might expect to find Nagmus, within the large building. This seemed to be right, because the man called after me, “And don’t tell him I called him a blockhead!”

He won’t hear it from me
, I thought.

I set the papers under a jug of water on the first workbench I passed, and left the building by a different door, carrying my pry bar. I made my way to the backside of the shack without further trouble.

Once there, I set about pulling away the boards to make a hole large enough for the prisoners to crawl through. In only moments I saw three anxious faces peering out.