Deniably Dead (Arucadi Series Book 4)

by E. Rose Sabin

  §

  Lore’s confidence returned now that he had a horse and increased when his path came out onto a road. This must be the road Blue had come from, the one that might lead him to Kyla. He headed east on it, the direction from which Blue had come. He soon stopped to give the horse a chance to rest, resolved not to make the same mistake he’d made with the horse he’d killed—and had nearly killed him when it collapsed.

  And so it went through the day. He stopped frequently but soon resumed his journey, growing more discouraged with each mile.

  When the woods to the south of the road gave way to fields of golden grain, he took heart. At last he must be approaching the area where Blue claimed to have dumped Kyla. But how could he find her in these fields that went on for mile after mile with no break?

  He stopped and led the horse into one of the fields, slipped off its bridle, and let it feast on the ripe grain. He picked some himself, rubbing it between his hands to remove the hulls and eating the crunchy bits. They didn’t taste like much and did little to assuage his hunger and nothing to ease his growing thirst. His glum mood returned. He was no closer to finding Kyla, and he and the horse needed water, while he needed palatable food. He remounted and headed onward, his head and shoulders drooping with weariness, hunger, and discouragement.

  When two horsemen rode toward him, the first traffic he’d seen on this road all day, he hailed them and they reined their horses to a halt. “Sirs,” he asked, “do you know of a place up ahead where I could find lodging for the night?”

  One of the men shook his head, but the other scratched his beard and said, “A little farther on you’ll cross a bridge over a stream. Once you cross it, you’ll see a path going off to the left. Take it and you’ll come to an empty cabin where you could shelter overnight, so long as nobody else is using it, which isn’t likely. Not many people come along this road.

  Lore wanted to ask why that was, but he got no chance. Both men spurred their horses into motion and took off down the road as if unwilling to linger even a moment longer.

  At least they had stopped long enough to tell him what he needed to hear. A stream meant he and the horse could drink. He set the horse back into motion and true to the information the men had given, he soon came to the bridge they’d described and after crossing it he spotted the path they’d told of. He reveled in the welcome sound of flowing water as the path wound along the stream bank. He had to force himself to wait to find the cabin before dismounting and satisfying his thirst.

  He spotted the shack that must be the deserted cabin the men had told of. The horse picked up its pace to reach the promised shelter. Lore dismounted and went to a door that hung by one rusted hinge. A look inside reassured him that he would not have to share this rustic lodging with any other squatters. The single room held no furniture and no human inhabitants. Insects had claimed it and rodents could also present a problem, but he could deal with that. At least the ceiling seemed reasonably intact. It would probably leak in a rainstorm, but the weather gave promise of remaining dry. He led the horse to the stream where they both could drink their fill.

  Afterward he returned to the cabin, tethered the horse to a post probably put there long ago for that purpose, and went inside. He lay down on the rough wooden floor, thought longingly of the last night he’d spent at Duncan’s Inn, and despite contrasting that memory with the discomfort of the bare floor, eventually dropped off to sleep.

  §

  Renni stayed on the road until she reached an area where she could see trees off in the distance, an area such as that Lore had been riding through when he’d been thrown. She could also see that continuing on the road a bit longer would take her nearer to the woodsy area. It would be good to leave the hot road for the shade of trees as well as the possibility of finding a stream where Dark Star could drink and she could refill her water skins.

  She continued on the road until she reached a spot where the woods seemed closest. There she turned Dark Star toward the woods and headed off the road. But as the horse stepped off the road, she heard a voice. “Remain on the road,” it said clearly. “Continue as you were.”

  Reining the horse to a halt, she looked around but saw no one in any direction. The voice had been audible and distinct. It had not been mindspeech. “Who are you?” she asked, continuing to look all around her. “Why am I to stay on the road?”

  “Trust. And obey,” the voice responded.

  Kyla had said that the Power-Giver spoke to her, but Renni had always gotten the impression that his voice spoke in her mind, not aloud for others to hear. With no one nearby, she could not know whether anyone else would hear the voice. “Dark Star,” she addressed the horse, “do you hear the voice telling me to stay on the road? If so, what shall I do?”

  After a moment Dark Star turned and stepped daintily back onto the roadway.

  “Okay, I guess that means we stay on the road for now at least.” With a longing look at the trees, Renni pressed her knees against the horse’s flanks, and they proceeded on down the road, stopping occasionally to let Dark Star rest and to give herself a chance to stretch and look about. This stretch of road was strangely deserted. No one passed her going in either direction; she had the road to herself.

  She had to be well ahead of Camsen in the wagon, but she kept hoping to catch sight of Lore. She still felt that she would have a better chance of finding him in the woods, but each time she tried to turn toward them, Dark Star rebelled. Oddly, she trusted the horse’s instincts more than she trusted the voice that had spoken to her.

  She made good time on Dark Star, but she dared not ride the horse too hard for too long. Dark Star needed rest, and so did she. She brought the horse to a halt and dismounted. She had no idea how far she’d come, but the day was drawing to a close, and she’d seen no sign of human habitation. Each time she’d stopped to give Dark Star a rest, she’d tried to contact Lore, but with no success. Nor had she been able to contact Zauna. She had concluded that her ability to mindspeak had deserted her, when an attempt to reach Camsen succeeded.

  Startled, she lost the connection but moments later heard Camsen’s voice in her mind, asking, Renni, is that you? Are you safe?

  She gathered her wits and exerted her power to respond, Yes, but I haven’t found Lore or seen any trace of the man who stole Kyla. Have you had any contact with them or with Zauna?

  His negative answer disappointed her, but his further communication proved more encouraging. She learned that he was on his way, with an unexpected passenger in the wagon. He told her of his decision to lift Thornbridge into the wagon rather than leaving him lying in the road. She admitted she would not have been so kind.

  She hadn’t found Lore, and she had begun to question the wisdom of obeying the voice that told her to stay on the road. But when she told Camsen of that voice, he counseled her to continue to follow its direction. I believe we’re being guided somehow, whether by the Power-Giver or someone or something else, he sent. I believe I was led to save Thornbridge, dangerous though he is. I believe you were meant to have that horse. And it’s possible that Lore, if he lives, is being guided as well. If we continue on to our destination, I do believe that when we reach it, the reason all that has happened will become clear to us.

  Renni could only send in return, I hope you’re right, Camsen, but I don’t have your faith. That concluded their communication but left her deeply concerned about Camsen’s decision to spare Thornbridge.

  She grew tired and hungry, and caught herself nodding off several times before finally yielding to her weariness and bringing Dark Star to a halt. “There’s still well over an hour of daylight left, but I can’t go any farther,” she told the horse. “I imagine you’re ready to stop for the night, too. I promise we’ll get back on the road tomorrow, but we do need to go find a place to camp in the woods where we won’t be seen from the road.”

  That seemed to satisfy Dark Star. She did not remount, but took his reins and walked him off the road and into
the woods, where she hoped to find water. She hadn’t gone any great distance when she heard the burble of a brook and traced the sound to find a small, shallow stream from which she and the horse could drink. After they both drank their fill, Renni left Dark Star grazing on the grasses growing along the edge of the brook while she hunted for edible plants to satisfy her hunger. She didn’t have to walk far before finding a growth of watercress on the stream bank. That would make a salad. And a short distance from the stream, along the raised roots of a babwood tree, she spotted edible mushrooms and collected several to wash and add to the watercress. She hadn’t expected to find chirberries but she spotted a single small bush dotted with the small red berries. They’d be tart, but added to her other finds, they’d provide a sort of dressing.

  Mindful of the danger of wandering too far, she decided to be satisfied with her findings and returned to where Dark Star continued to graze. She washed her finds in the stream and prepared her supper simply by mixing the greens, the mushrooms and the berries, some of which she mashed to moisten the greens. The result was tasty though it did not fully satisfy her hunger. But it would have to do. She wrapped herself in her jacket, lay down on the mossy ground, and was soon asleep.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  FORETELLING

  Zauna had only ridden on a train twice before, and both times only for a short distance. Despite the brevity of those rides, she had not enjoyed them but found them uncomfortably bumpy and the train seat cushions hard and none too clean. Now on the much longer trip to Harnor, she was able to relax and enjoy the ride. What had seemed uncomfortable before now, felt luxurious after having being jolted over a rough road in the wagon shared with three other people and a coffin. Her only regret was that she had to carry her boxed crystal ball on her lap. Rather than having it stowed in the baggage car, she had insisted on keeping it with her. She’d hoped to put it in an empty seat beside her, but the conductor had refused to allow that unless she bought a second ticket for the box. She’d been tempted to do so, but the conductor pointed out that even so, if the train was crowded she would have to yield the seat to a human passenger. And passengers did fill the train. An elderly gentleman claimed the seat next to her, the one she’d hoped to place the box in. But fortunately the man nodded pleasantly at her and promptly drifted off to sleep, leaving her to enjoy the ride in peace.

  She found it impossible to sleep sitting up, but she was content to be left alone with her thoughts. Before long she emulated her seatmate, drifting into a deep sleep from which she did not awaken until shortly before they reached Harnor. She had slept most of the two-day trip. As a result, she felt rested and ready for anything when she deboarded at Harnor, sufficiently so that she decided, despite the lateness of the day, to head directly to the docks and check the schedules for riverboats departing for Highport.

  To do that she had to carry with her the heavy box holding her crystal ball and stand and all the clothing she’d wrapped around it for padding. She really should go to an inn, take a room, and leave it locked in the room. But she knew nothing about Harnor. Would it be safe left like that, even in a locked room? She didn’t like the idea of leaving it anywhere she wasn’t very sure of.

  As she struggled through the streets with it, she did get strange looks from passersby, and a couple of people stopped and asked her if they could help her. She refused that help but asked the way to the docks and ticket offices for passenger boats to Highport. Told that the docks were not far, just three or four blocks away, and the ticket offices would be found on the street that ran along the riverfront opposite the docks, she continued walking.

  As she approached the docks, the smell of water and rotting fish grew strong, assuring her that she was near her goal. Her arms were growing quite tired, and she needed to set the box down to rest them, but seeing no place to do so, she continued doggedly on.

  With great relief she rounded a corner and saw the river, its waters lapping against the wooden docks jutting out into it. Ships floated beside the docks or, in the case of a few large ships, at the end of them. She paused and looked along the street for ticket offices or the stationmaster’s office.

  “Hey, lady, whatcha got in that big box?”

  She hadn’t heard the boy approach. Now she looked around and saw, in addition to the speaker, four or five more boys in ragged clothing approaching from both sides. She’d been careless, not thinking about the gangs of young toughs that haunted the waterfront in Port-of-Lords. She should have known better.

  No time now for regrets. It was useless to try to run; she was surrounded, and at least two of the boys had billy clubs. They herded her off the street into a dark alley between two buildings. The place was rank with the smell of garbage and worse.

  “Whatcha got in that box?” the first boy asked again.

  “Nothing that would do you any good,” she said as firmly as she could manage.

  “Show us.”

  She hugged the box to her chest. “It’s my clothes,” she protested. “That’s all.”

  “Let’s see.”

  Someone grabbed her from behind, grasping her arms and pulling them away from the box, while another took hold of the box from in front of her and yanked it from her. She gave a backward kick, attempting to dislodge the boy behind her, but he hung on, and others helped restrain her. She let out one loud scream before one of the assailants slid an arm around her neck, choking her. Others held her arms. She could only watch helplessly as the first boy, apparently the leader of the gang, tore open the top of the box and reached in. He pulled out a dress, scowled, and dug further.

  “Please,” she begged, barely able to speak because of the chokehold. “It’s just clothes.”

  The boy pulled out more garments. Laughing, he tossed a pair of her bloomers into the air. The whole group whooped in laughter as another pair of bloomers followed the first. And then the boy pulled out her precious crystal ball.

  “Just clothes?” he crowed. “I don’t think so. What’s this?” He tossed it into the air and caught it.

  She gasped as he threw it carelessly to one of his companions, who caught it just before it crashed to the ground. “Thing looks old,” the catcher said.

  “Here’s something might be worth a few coppers.” The first boy drew out the brass stand and turned it about in his hands.

  “What is it?” another lad asked.

  Desperate, Zauna fought back tears and tried to speak.

  The boy choking her laughed at her attempts, but the first boy said, “Let her speak. But if she tries to scream again, strangle her.”

  The pressure on her throat eased enough to allow her to get words out. “That’s the stand for my crystal ball,” she said. “The crystal shows me scenes from the past, present, or future. I use it to tell fortunes. It’s how I make my living.”

  “Hey, have her tell our fortunes,” someone shouted.

  “Throw me the crystal thing,” the leader said.

  The boy who’d caught it turned it about in his hand, gazing into it. “It don’t show me nothin’,” he said with a shrug before tossing it to the leader, who caught it with one hand while dangling the brass stand in the other.

  “Please, be careful of it,” Zauna said, letting out the breath she’d held while the globe sailed through the air. “Most people wouldn’t see anything in it. It’s a special ability I have. Set the crystal into the stand, and I’ll look into it and tell you what I see.”

  “And we’re supposed to believe you?” the leader sneered. “I don’t think so.”

  “Try me,” Zauna urged. “You may be amazed at what it reveals.”

  “Let her try,” one of the boys holding her cried out. “See if she’s telling the truth.”

  “Yes, let me try,” she pled. “There’s not much light here, but I think I’ll be able to see something even so.”

  One boy pushed another forward. “Tell what you see about him in that glass thing,” He threw the challenge into her face.

  Th
e selected boy stuck out his tongue at the one who’d shoved him toward her. “I don’t need to know my fortune. And what can she know about me?”

  The others laughed. Apparently he’d been chosen for a particular reason. She needed to find—to see—that reason in her crystal ball. Breathing a silent prayer to the Power-Giver, she cupped her hands around the sphere and peered into its depths. In the fading light, would she see anything?

  Apparently the crystal carried its own light within it. At first only mist swirled within the orb. Then, as the mist cleared, a bright moon lit the night within the sphere. The moon shone on a large house, neat lawns and carefully tended gardens around it. Lights shone from some of the windows, but none from a dormer window in a gabled roof on which the scene focused. The window opened. A boy looked out and shoved a bundle out onto the roof, then climbed out after it. She glanced up at the boy who stood before her. Yes. It was the same boy.

  “Well, old woman,” someone said. “What do you see?”

  Laughter followed the question until she began to speak. “I see a large and beautiful house. It is night. I see you,” she addressed the waiting boy, “climbing out of a dormer window onto a roof. You have a bundle with you. You look around carefully, then toss the bundle onto the ground. You walk around the roof to a tree with overhanging branches. You climb into those branches and down from the tree, go around and pick up the bundle you dropped, and hurry away. You are running away.”

  She glanced up at the boy. His face paled. “You—you can’t know that. Unless you’re a spy. That’s it! You’re a spy my parents sent to find me. But I won’t go home.” He looked at his companions. “We’ve gotta kill her. She—”

  “Stop! Don’t say anything more,” the leader interrupted, grabbing hold of the runaway’s shoulder. To Zauna he said, “Where is this place you say you see?”

  “I don’t know. It’s no place I’ve ever seen. And although I can see the house clearly, I have no way of knowing its location.”