*****
Morning in the shade of the bluff was cool, but they made no fire. While scouting, Taumea had found an abandoned orchard, and the ripe fruit he brought was welcome.
They set out on a road paved in cracked and dislodged stones, passing a vast cemetery gone to grasses and brush among trees grown ancient and massive. Grave markers had still legible dates more than a thousand years old.
After the cemetery, they entered tended fields and orchards irrigated by canals fed with wooden waterworks. Many of the waterwheels and apparatus were operated by the flow of water, but some were run by the labor of men dressed in dirty shirts and breeches. Most were barefoot. The men never looked up from their work, and when passed on the road, stood aside with bowed heads.
As the companions rode on, they entered an apple orchard tended by men in better-quality tunics and leggings, though none looked up from their work. When one finally did, she smiled in a friendly way. The man nodded in respectful deference, with wary glances at her Scholar necklace, daggers, and Taumea’s shield and sword. Breea saw that the man wore a many-thonged whip at his belt. Her heart went cold. Looking more closely at the people they passed, she saw most bore scars and a few had fresh wounds. Fingering her daggers, Breea looked at her friends to see if they had noticed. Taumea was alert in his quiet way, and Valiena looked determined.
They came to a wide avenue and joined the traffic heading for the city. Carts loaded with people chained or roped together spread a stink on the warming air. Six soldiers in black uniforms escorted each. Breea tore her eyes from the wretched folk in the carts, and studied the soldiers. Their uniforms were brown rather than Temple black, but were similar in cut. Memories of Sitil Crossroads came rising up, and she felt her power burning her anger like dry cedar wood.
"Guard your actions," advised Taumea.
Rounding on him, she was caught by the intensity of his gaze.
"We approach Sherishin," he said. "A city of three hundred thousand ruled by the Yasharn. Yasharn that are preparing for expansion will call dissension disbelief, and unbelievers are Dauthaz. Within a city there is no place to run."
She told herself that she would never ignore injustice, but she nodded to Taumea. He looked unconvinced, and reflexively checked his sword’s pull in its scabbard. In a few hours, they came to a town composed of sprawling wayhouses. Host-women and host-men stood in doorways and called to the travelers, exclaiming the virtues of their houses. Many on the road were stopping and pulling into stable yards. The sun was yet high. Breea looked to Taumea for his opinion, but he was watching the people on the road, subtly keeping track of soldiers. No soldier stopped at the wayhouses.
A way-host standing on the stone steps of his establishment took a look at them and shouted, "Best baths beyond the city wall!"
Valiena said, "Bathing would bless us all."
The man stepped forward with an admiring look at their horses. "Night guard on the stable," he added in a low tone, "and a special price for them that are learned."
That decided Breea, and she nodded to the host. He beamed, and boys rushed onto the road to guide the travelers’ horses into the stable.
They took two rooms, and as they undressed for bathing, their clothing was taken to be washed. In a hammered-copper basin, Breea soaked her aching body. Bone-deep weariness pulled her down, but she kept herself from sliding into sleep. Groaning, she pulled herself from the water, and dressed in the single fine silk blouse she’d brought. Her boots had been cleaned and oiled while she bathed. Valiena and Taumea were already eating in the gather-hall.
Halfway through their meal, Valiena’s head nodded, and she jerked herself awake. Taumea frowned, looking at his mate. The journey had hardened her. Soft curves were gone. Her eyes were haunted around the edges, reflecting the evil done to her people. He leaned over and whispered something in her ear that made her grin. She rested her head on his shoulder.
After the meal, Breea walked back to her room. Not bothering to undress, she crawled onto the bed.
A Woman Warrior Born Page 16