Ash was warmed by the understanding. Kieran trusted him enough to cut loose. That was wonderful. But it didn't make it much easier to put his clothes on and leave the river behind, only a few minutes later.
Up another twisting path through the rocks, they reached a dirt road, and started walking roughly west. Northwest, Ash thought, but he wasn't sure. The terrain was so confusing. They were really in the badlands now, and nothing was flat or straight.
"Where are we going?"
"There." Kieran pointed at a space between melting castles of sandstone which looked much like every other direction.
"I don't see anything."
"You don't see that smoke?"
"Nearsighted, remember?"
"Oh, yeah. I forgot. You'll see soon enough, I guess."
About an hour later, they rounded a bend to see a dozen buildings clustered around a shallow creek. The road went right through the creek, without even a bridge. Two of the buildings were large, square, and wooden, with signs over their doors. Most of the others were those little adobe beehives the natives built. At the end of the village, on higher ground, stood a small temple in very poor repair. Beside the road where it crossed the creek was a fenced area with horses in it.
They looked tired. The whole town looked tired. Kieran led Ash down the road as if they weren't wanted men. He hopped the creek as lightly as if they hadn't been walking all morning.
Kieran stopped to lean on the fence, looking at the horses. Just past the corral was a shack built against the side of the stable, and on the side of the shack was a misspelled sign indicating that these horses could be rented.
"Can you ride, Ash?"
"Yes, please."
Kieran considered for a moment, then slapped the fence post. "Okay. Riding it is."
"Thank you," said Ash as they made for the shack. "I was afraid we'd have to walk the whole way. To wherever."
"Doubt you could," Kieran said, and pushed the door open. Inside was dark and surprisingly cool. The only furnishings were a small table and a chair; an old white man sat in the latter with his feet up on the former, head back, asleep. The rest of the single room was crowded with stacked barrels; one near the door was open, revealing dry oats and a scoop. A sign proclaimed it eight moons a bag.
Kieran knocked on the table. The man continued to snore. With a nasty smile, Kieran grasped the table by a leg and yanked it out from under the fellow's feet. Coming awake with a snort, the man flailed and fell off his chair.
"Ouch! Dammit!" Scowling and rubbing his backside, the man climbed to his feet. "You didn't have to do that."
"We did try knocking," Ash said sheepishly.
Kieran replaced the table with a businesslike thump. "Two horses and feed for a week."
"Right. Um." The man fumbled in his shirt pocket, producing a pair of spectacles. "Two. A week, you say?"
"Now."
"No manners, you natives." He continued to fiddle with his glasses, putting them on and adjusting their fit meticulously. Kieran reached across and plucked them off his face, startling an indignant "Hey!" from the old man.
"Ash, try these on."
Half guilty and half amused, Ash put the glasses on. He blinked a bit as things struggled into focus. He'd nearly forgotten what it was like to be able to see fine details. He peered out the open door, checking his long sight. "Better than without. Not as good as the ones that got broken."
"Fine. We'll take those too."
"The hell you will, you thieving --" The man stopped with a gulp as he found himself talking up the barrel of Kieran's gun.
"We'll pay for them, of course," Kieran smiled.
"Um." The old man swallowed hard. "Yes. Thank you. I appreciate that." Afraid to take his eyes off the gun, he scrambled blindly for a pencil and ledger book perched on a barrel behind him.
"Um. Two horses. One week. Standard fee is one throne, plus one-five a week, five throne deposit or kind, that's per horse, and you'll need feed, two sacks per horse, that comes to, um --"
"Fifteen three and two," Ash finished for him. "And a throne for the specs."
In a moment of insane and pointless courage, the man drew himself up and said, "They cost me one-nine."
"You got ripped off," Kieran said. He put his gun away and pulled out a wad of paper money, thrusting it into Ash's hands. "Ash, pay the man. I'll pick out the animals." He shouldered through the side door into the corral.
Shaking his head and smiling, Ash peeled off banknotes. A ten-throne note, six ones, four signets. When he looked up, it was down the length of a rifle. Where had the old man had that hiding?
While his mind froze, his body went on moving. He put the counted money down on the table, and slipped the rest into his pocket. The one that had the revolver in it. He saw a speck of rust on the end of the rifle barrel, saw his own left hand coming up to catch the rifle's end and thrust it upwards. He thumped it against the low ceiling of the shack, locking his arm straight, while his right hand seemed to remember how to cock the pistol without his intervention. He stopped short of aiming it at the old man.
"I believe my change is eight moons," he said, and the calm in his own voice astonished him.
"You're those escapees," the old man said. "The ones the Watch was asking about."
"We've done you no harm. Let's not start, okay? Let go of the rifle. Let go. Thank you." Ash slung the rifle over his shoulder on its grimy strap.
"You're not bringing my horses back, I'll bet."
"Probably not. I think you should get that feed ready." Ash looked at his pistol and sighed. He took his finger off the trigger and eased the hammer up. "Hell, I'm not going to shoot you. But my friend gets impatient." When the man still hesitated, Ash added, "He kills people. In batches, to save time."
Nodding so his jowls shook, the old man snatched a stack of bags off a shelf.
When Kieran came back in, he looked from the sacks of feed on the table to the cowering proprietor to the rifle that had appeared across Ash's back. "What happened?"
With a wry smile, Ash unslung the rifle. "This kind gentleman gave us a present."
Kieran took it, examined it, tossed it at the old man's feet. "Rusted out piece of shit's more likely to blow up in your hands than shoot straight. We'll get you a better one in Canyon." He pointed at the old man. "We were never here, understand?"
The man nodded, looking down at his rifle as if it were a poisonous snake.
Outside, two horses were saddled and waiting. There was a dark-gray gelding who danced and nodded in excitement, and a bay mare who regarded the gray's antics with cool scorn.
"You get the bay," Kieran said.
"Why am I not surprised?" Ash patted the mare's neck, let her whuffle his hair, getting to know him. "I'm going to have the last laugh, you know. Look at this lady's big feet. Look at her big fat butt. We hit a patch of soft ground and she'll leave your jumpy gray way behind."
Kieran smiled. "Could be."
"The old man said the Watch had been 'asking about' us, by the way. Which doesn't sound like some printed notice. They were here."
"Already? That's not so good." Taking the gray's bridle, Kieran set off toward one of the two large buildings, the one with a sign that read 'Hengist's Dry Goods.' "You hungry?"
"Yeah, but shouldn't we get out of town? That old man --"
"Won't do anything. I know him. Course, he doesn't remember me 'cause he's a racist dipshit and we all look alike to him, but I pulled that once on him already. Pay for a week, they can't report the horses stolen until the week's up. By which time you're in West Mauraine for all he knows."
"But he knew who we are. He said 'You're those escapees.' What if he --"
"Suddenly decides to risk his life to do his civic duty? He'll wait until we're gone."
"Immediately after we're gone. So why pay for the horses?"
"I didn't know the Watch was here," Kieran said patiently. "You want to go take the money back?" He threw the gray's reins over the rail in front
of the store, looping them in a one-handed half-knot as if he'd done it a thousand times. Which he probably had. Ash was a little slower about tying up his own horse; he'd never owned one, and it had been a couple years since he'd ridden.
Kieran waited for him, with no sign of impatience. It's like he doesn't want to risk letting me out of his sight. Does he even know he's doing it? Ash hurried to join him, not wanting to test this new attitude too far.
A plump middle-aged woman behind the counter glared at them suspiciously as they came in.
Her suspicion only deepened when Ash handed Kieran what was left of the money. She leaned back when Kieran came and put his hands flat on the counter.
"Hafta wait outside," she belched out.
Kieran tilted his head. "What was that?"
The woman found a bit more space behind her, and occupied it. She pointed at Kieran and spoke with exaggerated slowness. "You. Hafta wait. Outside. No darkie, see? No wizgi."
Ash darted forward just in time to catch Kieran's hand before he could draw his weapon. "Let me talk to her, okay? Please?"
"Like hell I'm gonna let some pea-brained sow push me around. What happened to the old lady used to run this place? How do you expect to make any money around here if --"
"You ain't nothing but trouble, you people. Now git outta my store."
"Kieran, please. Please. Just take a step back, okay?"
Kieran turned his glare on Ash; if he'd been giving the shopkeeper that look this whole time, Ash was surprised she was still standing. His green eyes were like glowing pools of poison. But Ash stared him down, and after a long breath, he relaxed into a bitter smile. "Sure. Since you asked so nicely." He put his hands up in surrender and stepped back.
Ash turned to the shopkeeper. "Ma'am, you've offended us both by talking to my friend that way.
We'd really like an apology from you."
"Like hell. You can both get outta my store, you and your sand-rat pal."
"I see." Ash shrugged and put his hand in his pocket. I can't believe I'm doing this. He drew his gun and aimed it at the woman's face, deliberately cocked it. "Open your till, please."
Behind him, he heard Kieran give a small, surprised laugh. "Oh, Ashes."
"Well, she wouldn't apologize. The till, ma'am."
The woman stared at him a moment longer. Then, with shaking fingers, she got a key from her pocket and unlocked the drawer. She stood back, hands up by her ears.
"Very good," Ash said soothingly. "Thank you. Now I'd like you to pack us some picnic lunches.
How about, what, ten pounds of flour? Couple pounds of coffee, couple pounds of sugar -- what else, Kieran?"
With a smile in his voice, Kieran rattled off a long list as if reading it from a page. While the woman got what Kieran asked for, including a pair of prospector's knapsacks and some saddlebags to load it all in, Ash moved around behind the counter and cleaned out the till. There wasn't much in it, maybe twenty thrones in paper and coin. All the time, the thought kept going through his head: I can't believe I'm doing this. I can't believe I'm doing this.
"Thank you so much," Kieran drawled as he slung a pack over each shoulder. "You've been a great help to us, ma'am."
"And so polite and friendly," Ash added. "We'll be sure to visit again, next time we're in town."
Still with her hands raised, the woman spat. "The Watch'll get you. They know where you are."
"Oh? And do you know where they are?" Ash smiled sweetly.
Too quickly: "No, no."
"Please don't lie to us, ma'am. It makes us sad."
"I -- I ain't --"
Ash leveled the revolver, wondering if he was about to pull the trigger. The heel of his hand was already anticipating the kick. Lying to an empath; she was too stupid to live.
"They're next door!" the woman blurted, eyes going round. "They're at Bee's, asleep! They came in this morning, asked around, then got rooms! I have three children, please don't, please don't kill me." Her fear so intense it was like a kind of amazement, around her in a cloud, blinding her.
Kieran chuckled. "Don't kill the lady, Ash. Don't want to deprive those poor kiddies of the chance to grow up bigoted and rude, right?"
"It would sure be a shame." Grinning, Ash saluted her with his gun and backed out of the store.
Outside, he put the gun away and took one of the packs from Kieran, tried to hide the way his hands shook as he untied his horse. Kieran was already in the saddle by the time he got the loop undone. The Iavaian was staring up the street at the building marked 'Bee's Tavern -- Rooms to Let.'
"I'm tempted to go see if they're really in there."
"For god's sake, Kieran, can we get out of here?"
"Lost your nerve?"
"I'm about to lose my lunch." Ash was thankful for the placid temper of the mare, because his pack nearly overbalanced him as he mounted. "I just robbed someone. At gunpoint!"
"And it was beautiful." Kieran grinned. He bent over the gray's neck and kicked its flanks hard.
"Yah!"
"Wait! Oh, hell." Ash tried to follow, but the mare wouldn't do better than trot. He left the nameless village in a cloud of Kieran's dust.
All the way out of town, he kept feeling eyes on his back. Each time he turned, though, the road was empty. The feeling persisted even after he was out of sight of the village. At the top of a rising loop where the eroded ground opened out into a high plain, he found Kieran waiting for him, still looking delighted. Only then did the sensation of being watched go away.
"Please stop looking so happy," Ash said as they began riding side by side at a calmer pace.
"What, you don't want me to be happy?"
"Be happy, yes, but --"
"But don't look happy? Maybe I'm prettier when I sulk?" Kieran pulled a long face, sticking out his lip and batting his eyes comically.
Shaking his head, trying to clear it, Ash rubbed his dust-stung eyes. "Be serious. I didn't mean -I like to see you smile, Kieran, you have the most beautiful smile in the world, but --"
"Don't get sappy on me."
"-- but that's the problem, don't you see? It makes me proud of what I did, and that's not something I want to be proud of."
Kieran raised an eyebrow at him, and said nothing for a while. The silence stretched long enough that Ash was startled when Kieran reached out and flicked his sleeve. "Tell you what, Ashes.
You go ahead and feel bad for what you did. But be proud of how well you did it. That was one of the sweetest robberies I've ever been in. Just calm and clear, you told the bitch what to do and gave her room to do it, enough threat to get the job done and not enough that she freaked out and did something desperate. And you have to admit she deserved it."
"Kieran --"
"Go on. Admit it."
Ash found a smile on his face, wiped it off, felt it come back. "Okay. She deserved it."
"How much did you get?"
"Chump change. About twenty thrones."
"Hang onto it. Just in case we get separated."
The bay sidled and snorted as Ash tensed in alarm. "Separated? You're planning something that could split us up? Kieran --"
"No. I said I wouldn't ditch you." Annoyed. "I'm just covering all the angles. Let's pick it up now
-- wouldn't be surprised if those Watchmen are half an hour behind us." Kieran sighed at the way Ash twisted in the saddle to look behind. "On tired horses. And I took the only decent ones at the livery. Plus they'll be lazy, 'cause they can track us."
"Oh god. They can. Horses can't walk on the rails, Kieran, they'll lame themselves."
"I know. It's covered. Trust me. You trust me?"
"Yes."
"Shit, I was afraid you'd say that." Kieran grinned, and nudged his mount to a faster walk.
Chapter Seventeen
The road swung between north and west, paralleling the river in long, slow sweeps, though usually so far from the water that hills blocked the view. To the left, the broken land ran raggedly alongside, so
metimes so far that the golden stone had a gray tint, sometimes so close that the road had been blasted through a cliff. As the sun began to sink before them, they came to a crossroads.
Back was Smith 12 and Burn River 28. Ahead were the Carver, Blackrock, and Harden mines, 21, 40, and 86 respectively, making Ash wonder if anyone bothered to take the road that far when there must be rails laid to those places to get the ore out. To the right, a small track was labeled Leyden Farm. To the left, the sign said Canyon Township was 24 miles away. Kieran turned left.
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