Zypheria's Call (A Tanyth Fairport Adventure) (10 page)

They rode in silence. The sun slipped lower in the sky, sending streaks of brilliant gold into the puffy white clouds drifting over head.

“You gonna drive all night?” she asked, shifting her backside against the hard plank seat.

He shook his head. “Horses need to rest and eat. Campsite’s just ’round the bend. We’ll stop there.”

As they rounded the bend, Tanyth made out the flicker of a fire through the trees. “Looks like we’ll have company,” she said.

Frank grunted. “Mebbe.”

She felt him tense. “Trouble?”

He sucked air through his teeth for a moment before answering. “Have ta see who’s there first. Not likely, but ya never know.”

The gathering dusk masked the campsite but as they approached, Tanyth slid away from Frank, giving him room to maneuver, and pushed her hat firmly onto her head. She glanced over her shoulder to see where her staff lay behind the bench seat. When she turned back to face the road, only a small stand of trees blocked her view. She didn’t see any sign of animals or wagons.

As they cleared the trees, a lone figure stood from the far side of the fire. “’Bout time you two made it. What’d ya do? Stop and neck?” Rebecca yelled.

Frank laughed. “No, we don’t have ta stop ta do that,” he shouted back.

By the time Frank got the wagon situated, and the horses relieved of their tack, Tanyth and Rebecca had a respectable meal of fresh rabbit, hot tea, and pan bread ready.

“You keep huntin’ like this, and we won’t use half the supplies I got on the wagon,” Frank said, leaning back on his elbows and patting his belly in appreciation.

Rebecca beamed, her smile nearly as bright as the fading fire.

“Will we have to keep a watch?” Tanyth asked.

Frank leaned his head back and gazed up at the starry sky. “Normally, I’m here by myself, so I can’t,” he said. “Don’t see any reason to start now. I ’spect we’re all light enough sleepers that nobody’ll be sneakin’ up on us in the night.” He nodded at the wagon. “Sling the bedrolls under the wagon. It’s shelter if it rains.”

“Bet it leaks,” Rebecca said, eyeing it with a dubious expression on her face.

“Yep, but a leak here and there is better than a soakin’,” Frank said with a grin.

“Bitter voice of experience?” Tanyth asked.

He chuckled and gave her a nod. “Too many nights on wet ground.”

“Why don’t you sleep in the wagon?” Rebecca asked.

“You remember how hard that seat was?”

“Yeah.”

“You only sat on it part of the day. My bony backside has put up with it since early mornin’. I got a chance to get off the wagon? I’m takin’ it.”

Rebecca laughed and stood to fetch her pack and bedroll out of the bed of the wagon.

“She’s gonna be a big help to you.” Frank’s voice was barely loud enough to be heard over the breezes sighing through the spruces all around.

She looked over at him and saw his mouth twisted in a half grin. “I hope so,” she said. “I still feel bad about puttin’ her at risk. My arm’s almost healed. Might be good enough by the time I get to North Haven.”

He snorted. “I doubt that. But what if it is? You’ll send her home? Alone?”

Tanyth sighed. “That’s not likely, is it?”

He shook his head slowly. “No more likely than you stayin’ to begin with.”

The hollow clunk of head against wood, followed by a low voiced mutter, reached them from the wagon. They laughed softly and Frank clambered to his feet, brushing the back of his trousers off, and mounding dry soil around their fire pit with the side of his boot. “You all right, over there, Robert?”

“Fine. Just fine.”

Frank laughed again and held out is hand. “Come on, old woman. Best get some sleep. Mornin’ comes a’fore breakfast.”

The moon showed her the shallow creek again. The dark shadow along the stream bed was barely visible. Shadows of new pebbles marked where it lay buried. Only a small dark seam remained. The pebbles kept clicking together and the burbling of the water seemed to laugh in the darkness as the moon’s light faded again.

Tanyth woke with a start and a pressure in her bladder. “Damn runnin’ water,” she grumbled.

“Hmm?” Frank asked, not really awake.

“Nothin’,” she whispered. “I’ll be right back. Save my place.”

“Mmm,” he said.

She snickered and slipped out of the bedroll to go crouch behind a bush. The moon smiled down at her between the treetops to the west. It would set soon. Business complete, she crawled back into her bedroll and snuggled into Frank’s warm embrace, letting the cold and the moon and the silly little stream all fade away.

Chapter Eight:
Horses’ Behinds

Life on the road soon fell into an easy rhythm of rising with the dawn, caring for the animals and themselves, then wheeling the heavy wagon out onto the packed gravel surface of the Kleesport Pike. They rolled along through the day, occasionally stopping at streams and waypoints to water the horses. Every so often they’d pass a hamlet or village. When the sun set, Frank guided them to the next in a string of campsites and lay-over points where they’d make camp, fix dinner, and stretch weary bones out under the scant cover of the wagon.

Occasionally they’d meet a wagon coming the other way. Twice they were passed by the jingling mount of a King’s Own messenger bound north for Kleesport. When he heard the bells on the harnesses, Frank guided the team to the side of the road until the rider had passed.

“I don’t know how they do it,” Rebecca said after the second one rode by in less than three days.

“What’s that?” Tanyth asked.

“Ride day after day with them bells goin’ jingle-jingle-jingle all the time. It would make me crazy after the second day,” she said.

Tanyth snorted. “You hear the tack jangle on these horses?”

Rebecca looked at her with furrowed brow. “Well, of course.”

“Do ya? Really? Clop, clop, jingle, jangle, jingle, jangle, clop, clop? All day? Every day?”

She rolled her eyes. “No, that’s just the sound of the team.”

Tanyth jerked her chin in the direction taken by the messenger. “And that’s just the sound of his horse. Prob’ly pays no more mind to it than you do. Only time he notices is when it stops.”

Rebecca frowned but gave a slow nod. “Prob’ly so.” After a moment she said, “It’d still prob’ly drive me crazy.”

Frank added, “Me, too.”

They laughed and Rebecca vaulted the back of the seat to get her bow. “Well, I’m gonna try for some grouse today. Rabbit’s are getting a bit old.”

“Be careful. We’re comin’ up on Foxrun,” Frank said. “You’re apt to find another hunter or two out to fill his own pot.”

She nodded once. “Thanks for the warnin’. Will we be stayin' there over night?”

Frank eyed the sun’s position in the morning sky and shook his head. “Might stop for water, catch up on the news, but too soon to stop for the night.”

Rebecca gave another short nod and dropped from the tail board onto the road, disappearing into the undergrowth in moments.

The drumming of heavy hooves coming fast from behind alerted them and Frank guided the wagon to a wider spot on the Pike and reined up. In a few moments, a passenger coach hauled by a four-in-hand rattled by. The driver waved from his high seat and pale faces peered out of the dimness as the coach rumbled past. They were gone in an instant, disappearing around the bend ahead.

“May as well water the team now we’re stopped,” Frank said, and set about suiting action to word by dipping from the barrel of fresh water and giving each horse a brief slurp.

Tanyth kept her seat and twisted around to watch the road behind.

“What’re you lookin’ for, old woman?” Frank asked, clambering back aboard and taking up the reins once more.

“King’s Own.”

Frank frowned and cast a glance over his shoulder. “That’s odd, all right. I didn’t notice. Usually there’s a pair not too far behind the coach.” He shrugged and snapped the reins. “Gi’up, there.”

The horses took up the slack on the harnesses and soon had the lorry rumbling along again.

“How long we been on the road, Frank?” Tanyth asked once the team had settled into their plodding rhythm again.

Frank squinted at the sky. “Lessee. Four nights? Five?” He shook his head, “We’re coming up on Foxrun so must be five nights. Why?”

Tanyth nodded. “Not even half way, then.”

He gave her a sad smile. “So eager to be shut of me, are you?”

His comment found a home in her heart and she leaned over to hug his arm with a sigh. “No, dear ole fool. Just wonderin’ how much longer I can enjoy your company.”

He nodded and leaned into her. “Yeah. Another week and a few days, we’ll be in Kleesport. Road’s in good shape for spring so we’re makin’ good time. We’ll have a few days there before I head back.”

She sighed again. “In that case, I better start movin’.”

“How’s that?”

Tanyth stood and followed Rebecca’s path over the seat into the bed of the wagon. “Time to get the walkin’ muscle in shape. Been a long winter without exercisin’ it.”

“You want me to stop?” Frank asked.

Tanyth shook her head. “I can manage.”

She made her way to the back of the wagon and laid her staff down in the corner before stepping over the back, letting herself down, one hand on the tailgate and stepping onto the roadway, letting the wagon pull her forward for a step or two before letting go and snatching her staff.

Frank grinned at her as she strode up and along side him. “For a poor old lady, you seem pretty spry.”

She grinned. “My walkin’ muscle needs a work out but some foolish ole man been keepin’ my hips limber all winter,” she said with a wink.

Frank’s face clouded for a moment and Tanyth wished she hadn’t mentioned it.

“That foolish old man’s gonna miss you,” he said.

She pulled her arm out of its sling and reached up to rap the side of the seat with it, her fingers idly tracing the numbers carved into the wood. “That foolish ole man’s gonna be missed,” she said, turning her eyes forward and letting the brim of her hat block his sad, sharp eyes from seeing her tear up.

They went on like that for a mile or two. Tanyth easily kept pace with the plodding draft horses, her staff striking the earth on every other step, striking sparks now and again on bits of rock. She found herself lulled into the rhythm of it, her body moving her as it had for season after season. The weight of the cast swinging on her arm felt good after being caught in the sling for so long, a counter weight to the heft of the staff in her right hand. The steady movements set her mind free to wander in ways that it hadn’t while riding on the hard, wooden seat.