Lhind the Thief

by Sherwood Smith

  The bird riding high overhead did just that.

  Very close was a bend perfect for my needs. It meant I had to act fast.

  I called to the snakes, much the same way I did the horses. They came at once, making me uneasy. Always when I used a creature this way, I felt honor-bound to assure its safety. That was part of my own code. It was always much easier to risk only myself.

  When the snakes were in position just ahead of the bend, waiting in mild curiosity, I slowed my horse and slid off into the tall grass. Ramming my hands over my eyes, I stretched my hands out toward the road.

  Tir! Road!

  I saw the road below me, and the cavalcade moving steadily. Directly ahead of them, where the bend curved, I shimmered a straight section of road, blurring the real road.

  The first pair of warriors rode without hesitation onto my shimmer-road. Their pace checked slightly when they encountered rough field, but they saw road, and mist swirled about them, so they kept going.

  My heart fired with triumph as I ended the false road. I sent a wordless command to the snakes. A heartbeat after the coach trundled past them, moving slowly down the real road, the snakes rose up on either side, hissing and waving their heads. The horses who’d been following the coach reared, whinnying in fright. I heard the surprised shouts of the not-distant warriors.

  Shutting the distracting sound out, I obscured the snakes so they could retreat into the grass and not be trampled, then I hid the coach with shimmer-trees and made a false road again, this time bending inland, away from the river alongside a feeder stream in a valley. The warriors raced along it, trying to catch up with the rest of their group—and the coach was now alone.

  Not for long. I got up, fighting dizziness, and ran flat for the bulky shape ahead.

  “Hey! Where are you going?” the man on it shouted after the last of his escort, but the thunder of hooves drowned his voice. He leaped down, opened the door—

  I don’t know what he would have done with the prisoners, and maybe just as well. I launched myself into the air and landed on his back. We both fell onto the floor of the coach, off-balance. The heavy man managed to muscle me down onto the floorboards. He pulled back a fist about the size of a melon—and then Rajanas’s boot heel whopped the man’s head with a solid thwack.

  The soldier fell slumped unconscious to the floor of the carriage, and I rolled free. “Come on!” I said. “They’ll figure out the dodge soon.”

  “Thank you, Lhind.” Thianra murmured, her voice warm with gratitude.

  “Here.” I reached for the nearest pair of hands, sawed at the rough rope with my knife, then I pressed the knife into one of the palms I’d freed. “Here. I’ll loosen the coach horses while you cut their ropes.”

  I jumped out again, pulling the driver’s sword from its sheath.

  Cutting the harnesses free was easier than trying to deal with ties and buckles. As I finished, the other three emerged from the coach, ghostly forms in the gloomy fog. I called my mare to me, and she came trotting out of the mist.

  Rajanas started to speak, but Hlanan murmured something softly, and he fell silent, handing me back my knife.

  Hlanan and Thianra mounted on one coach horse, and Rajanas took the other. We turned back upriver, and began to ride.

  EIGHT

  I called more horses when we passed another farm, for ours were tired. Six responded. A good number, I thought. They’d look like a herd let run loose, for I did not want Hlanan and the others to know I’d called them.

  The three seemed to accept the sudden appearance of unsaddled or bridled horses as lucky chance, for Rajanas shouted to the others to block them quickly. Thianra gave a pleased cry, and Hlanan said nothing. He kept rubbing his head.

  We let the tired coach horses go. Once they were out of sight I sent my mare toward home.

  As Thianra and Rajanas cut out three horses, Hlanan walked up to me. He was still rubbing his head. “The outriders. How did you do it? Your . . . your shimmer spell?”

  “Yes. Told you it comes in handy.”

  “How far did you extend the illusion?”

  “Can’t do it far at all.”

  “Thank you,” he murmured.

  Rajanas loomed up, a silhouette against Big Moon, low in the sky. “Can you ride?”

  “Of course,” Hlanan said. But he didn’t sound so sure.

  Rajanas didn’t say anything, but he rode behind Hlanan, leaving Thianra to ride point. I rode alongside her, figuring she was least likely to ask questions I didn’t want to answer.

  Nobody spoke much as we rode through the night. The sun came up as we made our way down a ridge above the river, which had widened considerably, moving placidly over a shallow, rocky bed.

  Rajanas kept his hand on the hilt of the sword I’d taken off that coach driver, his eyes moving constantly back and forth, back and forth, as our mounts waded slowly across the rushing water. Thianra sat, grim and unsmiling, and Hlanan held tightly to his horse’s mane, his eyes squinted against what must have been a fearsome headache. The bleak morning sun revealed an ugly bump on the side of his head.

  But nothing happened. If pursuit there was, it did not find us. When we climbed dripping and tired up the ridge on the other side, it was within sight of a small town. We rode in not long after, and there we found Arbren and the other servants, and most of the baggage; Thianra pounced on her tiranthe with a glad cry. The servants had been in the midst of trying to raise some kind of search party that would be willing to recross the border.

  By then I was so tired I thought my head would fall off my body and roll away somewhere. We stopped at an inn, and I sank onto a bench and watched Rajanas deal with his frightened, excited servants. If he was tired he hid it, and his voice was amazingly patient. Hlanan went outside to watch for Tir, who had been flying overhead, but then vanished.

  Thianra sat down next to me, her instrument safely tucked over her back. I remembered that innkeeper’s wife saying She whom you bargained with. “Do you know who sent those hired swords?” I asked.

  She gave her head a single shake. “Gear unmarked with anyone’s device, and they spoke Chelan to us, and among themselves. Someone local’s private force, on hire for just one capture. Possibly in disguise. That would explain the lack of pursuit.”

  “They’ll just go home and report it as a bad business?”

  She lifted a shoulder in a faint shrug. “They might not have known anything more about us than we did about them, except that one of us was a scribe who could do magic. There are several people who could have told them that much.”

  “Is that unusual? I mean, scribes who are mages, or the other way around?”

  “No,” she said quickly. Her voice dropped a tone. “In certain areas, scribes are even expected to learn some limited spells. Hlanan got interested in magic, and left scribe training, so he knows more than most. But he still works as a scribe.” She fought a yawn, and rubbed her eyes. “What I wonder is, what happened to Rajanas’s own Guard?”

  She did not answer her own question, and as I had no answer, we fell into silence until Hlanan appeared before us. “We’ve food waiting, and fresh horses.”

  Thianra got up stiffly; I shook my head, unwilling to move.

  Hlanan smiled, then winced as if his head hurt. “Come, Lhind. You cannot part from us now.”

  “You don’t understand,” I said hoarsely. “You mages might not feel anything. But when I make a shimmer it tires me.”

  A flicker of surprise lifted his eyelids, but he said only: “I’ve something to add to our tea that will help. And we’re riding just for a time. This town is still too close to the border.”

  “Our puny thief lost his puny strength?” That was Rajanas, of course.

  I managed to produce a medium-loud snort. “Just tired of the company.”

  Rajanas’s lips twitched.

  “Bravely said, Lhind.” Thianra chuckled huskily at my shoulder. “Come.” Her warm, gentle hand on my shoulder somehow made i
t possible to stir once again, and I followed her into a private dining room.

  Hlanan had ordered a splendid hot meal, and true to his word, he’d quietly added some kind of spice to the steaming tea. Warmth and wakefulness coursed through me at every sip.

  No one spoke much during this meal. Afterward we trudged out front to find four new horses awaiting us.

  We didn’t ride long. Hlanan led us down the road into a very small village built up against a cliff. He took us to a cottage, and we were met by a smiling old woman.

  By this time the effects of his herbs had worn off, and I could hardly think for the sleep-longing. So I followed the others inside the little house, and when pointed toward a loft I somehow made it up the ladder, onto a straw-stuffed pallet, and dropped gratefully. I was too tired even to arrange my take inside my clothes. I curled into a ball and slept.

  And woke, eventually, to the sound of voices drifting up from below: Rajanas’s, Thianra’s and a high, pleasant voice I did not recognize. Looking about me, I saw an empty pallet and one with a long figure on it. I sat up and glimpsed part of Hlanan’s face within the protective curve of one arm. As I sat back down some of my coins clinked. It was not a loud sound, but it was enough to cause Hlanan’s eyes to open.

  “Sorry,” I said.

  His sight was clear. He was one of those, like me, who come awake completely. It made me wonder a little about his background.

  “I suppose you don’t know transportation magic?” he asked.

  I shook my head firmly. “Remember? I stole one spell.”

  “Ah. I’d forgotten.” He rubbed his eyes, then felt his head with care, wincing and grimacing. Then he sat up.

  Below, Rajanas said, “They’re finally awake, I believe.”

  “We are,” Hlanan called with unimpaired good humor.

  I followed him down. Rajanas lounged by the door, his fingers moving with absent restlessness on the hilt of his sword. His eyes were shadowed beneath. He probably hadn’t slept.

  As soon as he saw us, he spoke. “My harbor Guard caught up with us—or five of them, anyway. You were right. They’d been ambushed as well. They were searched and stripped of weapons and your tracer-ring.”

  “Well, my other seems to have either fallen out of my pocket or been looted while I was incapacitated,” Hlanan said with regret. “They escaped?”

  “Yes. Left Nian behind. Took a wound in the fight. Three of them will go back for him. The rest are on their way back to Letarj to guard the yacht. Meanwhile, we have not been followed, and the Mistress says she senses no magical tracers on us. Shall we go?”

  Hlanan rubbed his eyes again, his body tense. “Mistress?” he turned to the old woman.

  “I will help you. Do you have a Destination—”

  “Don’t use it,” Rajanas said abruptly. “If there’s trouble in my city, the Destination chamber in the palace will be ringed with waiting guards.”

  “Right.” Hlanan gave a short nod, and ran his hands down his tunic. “Outside the gates. That’s open area. I feel better about that, being as tired as I am.” He glanced at the window. “I hope Tir knows where we are going.”

  I was about to ask where we were going, and how, when the old woman they’d addressed as Mistress said calmly, “Take hands. Stand in a circle.”

  Thianra’s slim fingers wrapped warmly about my hand, and on my other side Hlanan gripped my fingers almost tight enough to crepitate. Then he and the Mistress muttered strange words that made my ears sing in a not-unpleasant way—

  —And colored fog swirled about us, then cleared.

  We stood in an open field with blossoms nodding peacefully around us.

  “Ho,” Hlanan murmured, letting me go and sinking down onto the grass. “Did it.”

  Thianra shivered, and sat down also. Rajanas’s face was pale as old cheese, but he only turned, swayed once, then wrenched himself erect. “I’ll spy out the situation,” he said shortly, and walked off through some trees.

  “What’s wrong? Are you sick?” I asked. “Should I find some water?”

  Thianra looked up wearily. “It’s that trans—”

  “Never mind,” Hlanan said. He lifted his head and opened his eyes to gaze at me. His expression was very hard to define: sort of bemused, and a little sad. “We’ll be all right. I just hope Rajanas’s correct about no one attacking his city.”

  “Is that where we are?” I asked. Intense curiosity stirred up questions like bees swarming when a stick hits their hive. “So that was real send-magic? Hoo! That’s a handy thing . . .” I stopped.

  Thianra grinned at me. “Don’t even ask him. Besides, those who use magic to get away from thievery tend to get traced, and you wouldn’t want any of the Magic Council on your trail.”

  I shook my head hard. “No-o-o-o-o-o. Not me!” I said quickly, though I wondered if it was possible to actually steal such a spell. Only how would I manage, even if it was? Everything I did was by instinct. “One spell’s enough, and besides, half the fun of a good take is the getaway. It was only a thought.”

  Hlanan looked away, his mouth strictly controlled. Thianra laughed silently. I saw again their resemblance, and said, “How are you related?”

  Have you ever walked into a room and felt the floor drop away? Well, I must admit I haven’t had that actually happen to me, but that’s what it felt like. I’d asked what I thought was a harmless question, then watched in amazement as all the laughter bleached from their faces.

  Thianra’s gaze narrowed speculatively. “How did you know that?”

  I shrugged. “I . . . see it.”

  “You are very observant,” she said, and in a lower voice, “and so am I.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked uneasily, poised to run, tired as I was.

  “Nothing ill.” She leaned toward me, speaking so softly that only I could hear. “It is just that I wonder why you wish to be taken as a child, when there is that in your face that indicates experience.” She caught Hlanan’s gaze, straightened up, and smiled. “Ah, but your secrets are yours to keep. As for ours . . . we share one parent. We don’t talk about that, though.”

  “Why not?” I asked, unsettled by her question. I gabbled fast to get her thoughts, at least, away from what she’d said. I wasn’t sure he’d heard her. “Got caught and thrown in jail? Afraid nobody will hire you to sing if you’ve got a thief for a parent?”

  Hlanan touched my arm. “It’s something like that, but we’re not ashamed of our background. We are who we make ourselves to be, whatever our parentage. Still, we don’t talk about it, which I suspect you can understand. Can we ask you to keep that between us?”

  “I’m mum,” I said, spreading my hands. “Does the Rat-spawn Rotter know?”

  Thianra turned away, laughing soundlessly. Hlanan said, “Yes. Rajanas knows. But he’s really the only one. He and I have been friends since we were small.”

  “Gate’s opening for us,” Rajanas’s dry voice broke into the conversation.

  We got to our feet and followed Rajanas through the trees. When we emerged from the copse, we faced a good-sized walled city. As we approached it, the mighty gates began to swing open. Rajanas and Hlanan did not seem to notice; having gone a little ahead, they were involved in a low-voiced conversation.

  Only that Rajanas would have the crust to walk, alone and on foot, to a guarded wall to see who was in possession, I thought.

  “You’re smiling,” Thianra observed from my side. “At what prospect?”

  I pointed my finger at Rajanas. “He’s crazy. I would have waited and snuck in at night.”

  “It’s his city, and his principality—Alezand,” she said. As if that should have explained it.

  Well it didn’t, not for me anyway, but I forbore questioning when I saw some riders come galloping through the gates toward us. They led a string of four riderless horses. Presently we were circled by a group of guards wearing sky-blue tunics with a black device. We mounted fine-bred chargers, me with some difficulty,
for I’d never managed with a saddle and reins before. Seeing my hesitation, a woman with looped yellow braids dismounted and tossed me up into the saddle with one strong movement.

  The leader saluted Rajanas, received a lazy wave in return, then the guards formed in two lines behind us. I exchanged a grin with the guard who’d helped me, then our cavalcade set off through the streets.

  Busy people crowded the streets of Imbradi. Absent were the usual signs of poverty I’d come to expect in a city. No beggars, no shabby open markets. The shops were built close together, the buildings steep-roofed with stone and even brick fronts. Ironwork decorated stair-rails, signs, and door latches, and many of the buildings had ivy growing up the walls. Age-smoothed stones paved the streets, the canals whose bridges we rode over looked and smelled clean, and I saw no piles of refuse anywhere.

  The people wore brightly colored clothing, of cloth and design more flowing than what I’d been seeing in Thesreve. I saw none of the short tunics so popular with rich men in Tu Jhan. Those who didn’t wear long robes wore long tunics slit up the sides where one could see loose pants stuffed into the tops of boots—like Rajanas’s clothes. There was more embroidery on everyone’s clothes than I’d seen anywhere, and not the geometric patterns I was used to seeing, but flowers, vines, leaves. I also saw every kind of headgear, from feathered caps to veils and turbans.

  This is a dream city, I thought. I wonder if they have thieves.

  Of course they have thieves. If you have people and goods you have thieves. But I took in all those knives and swords worn at people’s sides, and wondered how easy a thief’s life would be here, in spite of how comfortable things looked.

  As we rode slowly through the streets, people parted, some looking on us curiously. Salutes were made to Rajanas, hands lifted, palm out. Some bowed; Rajanas nodded to right and left.

  Up ahead the streets broadened into a wide green park. Through a gate and we were surrounded by well-tended trees and shrubs, and when those gave way, we rode into the courtyard of a huge marble palace.