by Victor Poole
"You're very superstitious," Delmar observed.
"Hush," Ajalia and Philas said at the same time. Philas grinned at Ajalia, but she pretended that he hadn't spoken. She took Leed, and went into the wide paddock where the yurl lay sleeping. The massive blue beast growled when she entered; Ajalia murmured the words in the Eastern language that the yurl had been taught to recognize. The growl stopped, and turned into a level purr.
A frail old woman appeared as if out of nowhere. A pair of black hoods were gripped in her knobbly hands. She passed them silently to Ajalia, who rolled them up and slipped them into her clothes.
"You'll need Slavithe tunics to pass as sailors," the old female said quietly.
"Are you all right here?" Ajalia asked the slave.
"Barat is a good boy," Erai said. "While you are here," she added, "I have been keeping what the yurl sheds."
Ajalia held out her hand; the old slave slipped into the darkness. Leed had a pair of fingers stuck in his mouth. He was staring at the massive shape of the yurl. When the woman had gone, he nudged Ajalia with his elbow.
"What is that?" he asked, nodding towards the great beast.
"A yurl," Ajalia told him in the Eastern tongue. She heard Leed mouthing the sounds she had made. She repeated herself, and then slipped the black stone back into her clothes. It nestled against the black hoods.
"What is it for?" the boy asked.
"We ride them," Ajalia said, "and we take their fur."
Erai appeared out of the darkness, and pressed a wrapped cloth into Ajalia's hands. Ajalia led the boy out of the paddock, and rejoined Philas and Delmar where they lurked against the dark wall. Philas had put on a tunic made of Slavithe fabric; Ajalia passed one of the hoods to Philas, and put the other over her own head.
"Where are the horses?" Philas asked her.
"I didn't get any," Ajalia told him. She smiled, and he flashed a grin at her.
"What?" Delmar asked.
"Slave joke," Philas told him, and led the way through the dark alley that ran behind the stables. He unlatched a large stall that lay in the back of the long row, and led out two scruffy Slavithe horses that wore the clumsy saddles Ajalia had arranged from Denai. She had changed the arrangement with the Slavithe horse trader earlier in the day.
"I need your tunic," Ajalia told Delmar. He stared at her for a moment, and then pulled his brown clothing over his head and handed it over. For a brief moment, Ajalia hoped that Delmar would run away home, but with a flush in his skin, and a hunching of his bare shoulders, he inched closer to the horses, his jaw set in a scowl of determination.
Ajalia slipped the coarse brown fabric over her clothes, and lifted the boy Leed onto the back of the larger horse. She hoisted herself into the saddle of the smaller horse, and wiggled her legs over the coarse stitching of the leather saddle. She missed the smooth contours of her own black goatskin saddle. The Slavithe saddles were made in the shape of an irregular oval, and were tied beneath the horses with a flat band of woven rope. There were no stirrups. Ajalia's saddle, and the other saddles made in the East, were outfitted with heavy wooden stirrups. Her feet, dangling without support, clung against the horse's sides. Ajalia gathered up the leather reins, and felt the mouth of her horse working over the bit.
Philas got astride his horse, and put the boy's arms around his waist. He adjusted the black hood over his eyes; at his urging, his horse moved into the road.
"You could have gotten another horse," Delmar whispered. He was behind Ajalia's horse's haunches, and she could just hear his voice over the clopping of the horses' hooves on the stone road. She ignored him. Ajalia thought of telling Delmar to go home one more time, but the night was silent and calm, and she was loathe to break the quiet rhythm of the horses stepping over the pale stone. Perhaps, she told herself, Delmar would go away before they reached the farther gate.
She glanced behind at Delmar when they came out of the stable road; Delmar's skin was showing red and orange in the torches that lit the avenue. She tried to feel sorry for him, and could not. She had seen groups of horses coming down the main road in Slavithe before, followed by porters bearing bundles and boxes of goods. Nakedness was not a requirement for portership, but the weather was often hot, and the servants bearing goods, she assumed, often tried to preserve what clothes they had from the strain and sweat of labor. Delmar would pass well enough as a servant when she and Philas reached the gate out of the city.
The night was young, but dark; the echoes of the horses' clatter bounced between the canyon formed by the stone houses. Ajalia saw many lights in windows. A few balconies were opened to the street, and she could see a small family gathered within a house on the second floor. The woman, her hair cut close to her head, glanced out at the street when she heard the hooves, but looked away when she saw the black hoods.
Ajalia studied Philas in the dim light of the torches. His back was broad and strong; his shoulders swayed to and fro with the steps of his horse. The fabric of the black hood folded down over Philas's neck. Leed's brown hair was barely visible against Philas; the boy was all but invisible.
Ajalia had not ridden a horse since the first day the caravan had come into the city; she had missed the soothing rhythm of a horse's movement. Her hips settled into the horse's walk. Her legs were wrapped closely around the flanks of the plain brown horse, and his ears flicked back towards her.
The quiet of the streets was unnatural; she had not seen so little activity in the streets since the night she had walked in the dim light of early morning. Usually the long roads in the city were filled with a calm bustle of servants going to and fro, or men and women with shorn hair going about their business. She did not think much of the quiet until Philas turned into another street, and she saw the road clear as if by magic. The pedestrians melted away into doorways and narrow streets to either side of the main road; within seconds, the darkened street was deserted.
The people were avoiding the hoods, Ajalia saw. She was glad, for a moment, that Delmar was following along behind her. She thought that his shirtless state was a stronger disguise than her own black hood. She had seen how the eyes of the Slavithe people followed along behind Delmar, and how their glances took in his companions, and his emotional state. The city was full of eyes, but when the black hoods and the apparent porter passed by, the eyes closed or turned away. Ajalia wished she had learned of this effect sooner; she felt absurdly free. She glanced back at Delmar, who was walking with his face turned morosely towards the ground, and she felt almost kindly to him. She knew that his bare skin was not helping her to personally escape scrutiny, but she felt as if he were a sort of charmed talisman; she was sure her journey to Talbos would be satisfactory.
The roads wound through the long white stone city, ramping gradually upwards as they approached the mountains, and the farther city wall. The walls of Slavithe were high and thick; they rimmed the city all round like the containment walls of a great artificial lake, the life within slapping up against the sides, and leaking out into the fields and mountains beyond.
Ajalia had been to the quarries often now; they lay above the city, at the feet of the great mountains that lay between the city and the sea. The mountains were thick farther north, above the city; this near Slavithe, they made only a few miles of barrier between the white city wall and the sea beyond. The road to the quarries was a well-constructed path that followed smoothly from the corner of the city to the long stretch of road nearest the gravel pits. There was no heavy gate between the quarries and the city. The stone path was thick enough to bear the wagons of stone and gravel that were borne back through the city towards the farms and houses on the far side of Slavithe, close to the desert that hemmed in the fertile land. Another exit ran steeply down from the quarry towards the sea.
Ajalia knew that Philas had been to the harbor that lay ensconced in the furthest edge of the mountains; she had not yet seen the ships that traded the white stone out beyond the length of sea that ran between Slavithe and
the distant country of Saroyan.
The two horses, and Delmar walking behind them, at length came to the eastern gate of the city. Torches were burning on either side of the thick gate, and a pair of shadowy guards were just visible in the glare of the fire. Their long cloaks and longer carved spears made grotesque black shapes upon the long pale walls. Ajalia could see the long wooden crosses of wood that filled in the gate; there were two heavy stone doors, that swung on metal hinges, but these were propped out into the road on the other side of the wooden grate.
Philas rode his horse to the first guard, and stopped. Ajalia looked down at the second guard, who had wandered near, and was staring at Delmar, who kept his eyes fixed on the legs of Ajalia's horse. Ajalia could hear the first guard speak. His voice was low and ominous in the stillness of the night.
"Who's the boy?" the guard asked Philas.
"He belongs to me," Ajalia called forward. The guard's head snapped around at the sound of her voice; she had not bothered to speak low, as she did when impersonating her master, and the clear bell of her voice was unmistakably feminine.
"There'd better be a good reason if you bring him back," the guard said. He motioned to the second guard, who walked to the gate and unlocked a smaller door within the greater grate. "There are too many boys in the city as it is. Safe journey," he added, stepping aside to let them pass. As Philas rode forward, and Ajalia's horse drew near the first guard, she saw the guard's hand flick up; he made a curious shape with his fingers, near his chin, and put his hand down again.
Ajalia lifted her leg over her steed's spine, and slid off her horse. She pulled the black hood from her face, keeping her back to the second guard.
"I am not from here," she said, though the guard's expression made it obvious that he had connected those dots for himself. "I am unfamiliar with the sign you made. I fear to offend those I do business with."
She drew the heavy gold ring that had once belonged to Lim out of an inner pocket.
"This is a ring," she said clearly. She was listening to hear the footsteps of the second guard; they began to come near, and she slipped the black hood back over her features.
The first guard was watching her narrowly. Most of his face was in shadow, but she could see the shape of his cheeks outlined by the torchlight.
"I found this ring," she said.
"You have good fortune," the first guard said carefully. He was still, watching her as a predator may watch another. Ajalia's face was obscured by the hood, but she kept her body quiet, her energy reaching out like tendrils of gentle fire.
The second guard approached.
"Is there a problem?" he asked the first guard. Delmar was behind Ajalia's horse; she could feel his eyes fixed on her.
"The citizen relays a message to the Thief Lord," the first guard said. His hand reached out, and closed over the heavy golden ring. The guard's thick fingers brushed away from Ajalia's hand; her fingers were empty. The second guard went back and stood near the gate, waiting to close it. Ajalia levered her body back onto her horse, and the first guard stepped close to her. Ajalia leaned down to hear what he said; the guard's voice was cautious.
"Ask for the sign of the dead falcon," the guard murmured to Ajalia. She met his eyes, and nodded her thanks. The first guard went back to his station, the golden ring slipped deep into his cloak, and Ajalia rode to the open door. She held back her horse, motioning for Delmar to go before her through the opening. She followed him through, ducking her head beneath the heavy wooden beams, and heard the door close with a thud.
Philas and the boy were waiting for her some distance down the road. His face was turned to her; the shape of his body on the horse made a dark stain against the white road, which leveled upwards to the mountains.
"Any problems with the guard?" Philas asked, when she and Delmar had caught up.
"No," Ajalia said. The clouds broke apart in the sky, and a brilliant sliver of moon emerged, and shone down on Philas and the horse. The horse had turned its head, and pricked its ears at the horse Ajalia rode. Delmar went to Philas's horse, and stroked its neck.
"Do you know how far it is to Talbos?" Delmar asked Philas.
"Yes," Philas replied through the hood. "Do you?"
"No," Delmar said. "How far is it?" he asked Ajalia.
"Too far to walk," Ajalia said. "Come on." She guided her horse past Philas, and put the gelding into a trot. She wanted to take off the black hood, but she knew there could be spies on the road. She did not want to expose herself in the mountains. She had a feeling that the gang who had seized control of the northern gap in the wall, would have members placed throughout the mountains, monitoring the main road for easy marks. She guessed that the gang made a secondary income from blackmail. Their primary source of money, she was sure, came from robbing anyone who risked the northern gap, but if she had blocked off easy passage, and if there was only one other route to the city of Talbos, she would watch that route like a hawk, and she would put pressure on any upstanding citizens of Slavithe who travelled the road by night. She did not know if she was being hyper-vigilant, but she did not want to find out too late that she was being watched.
Ajalia could hear the sharp clop-clop of Philas's horse; she could no longer hear Delmar. When she glanced back, the moonlight had fallen through the ragged clouds. Delmar was jogging along beside Philas's horse. Ajalia twitched forward again with a snarl. She wanted Delmar to give up and go home; he was proving too resilient, too determined. She did not like how much he was willing to do in order to follow her.
The white road spun out over the mountain; Ajalia's horse dug his haunches under, and propelled his body up the steep slope that lay in the first stretch. The mountains were peaceful and still. Ajalia felt alone for the first time since she had come to the white city; she wondered, briefly, what Lim was up to.
The journey over the mountain road was long and quiet. The clouds scattered slowly, blown away by a brisk breeze coming in from over the sea, and before Ajalia's horse had climbed to the highest point of road that cut over the second mountain, the sky was filled with the shimmering blue light of the moon, and a glittering expanse of bright stars. Ajalia's mount made a deep shadow against the pale road. The texture of the mountains changed; they had begun as a series of long, ragged white stones, but as the road wound between the lower slopes, and over the rises, the stone turned darker and coarser. By the time they reached the place where the road divided sharply, one half carving down towards the Slavithe harbor, and the other turning more deeply into the cluster of mountains, the composition of the slopes was almost black.
Philas urged his horse forward until he was next to Ajalia.
THE GOLDEN LIGHTS
"The roads here are very smooth," Philas said. His voice was muffled through the cloth of his hood.
"We're talking about the road now?" Ajalia asked. Leed, who looked as though he had fallen asleep behind Philas, snickered at Ajalia's tone.
"It is a remarkably smooth road," Philas said with dignity. Ajalia glanced behind her; Delmar was jogging doggedly some distance behind them. His bare chest was glistening with sweat, and he looked remarkably uncomfortable.
Philas pulled the dark hood from his head, and shook out his hair.
"Spies," Ajalia said.
"I know," Philas replied. "It's too warm in there." Ajalia pulled off her own hood, and drew her horse to a halt. Her gelding rattled his bridle with a thunderous snort.
"He told me you two were friends now," Ajalia told Philas, nodding towards Delmar, who was puffing away down the road. The night was strange and cool; Ajalia felt that she was in the midst of a dream.
"I think he cares about you," Philas said. He turned his horse about to face Delmar, and leaned over his saddle. The two of them watched the Thief Lord's son toil up the hill. Ajalia was acutely aware of the little boy tucked behind Philas, although she was sure he could not yet understand much of what she and Philas said to each other in the Eastern tongue.
"
The boy's parents are in Talbos," Ajalia told Philas. "They ran away, and left him in the quarries."
"So?" Philas asked.
Ajalia shrugged.
"I like him," she said.
"Why did you bring him?" Philas asked.
Ajalia did not reply. Delmar slowed to a walk when he saw that they had stopped. His hair was falling in lank tendrils around his face.
"You used to tell me things," Philas pointed out. Ajalia replaced the black hood, and gestured for him to do the same.
"If we've been seen, I'm blaming you," she told Philas. He shrugged, and slipped the dark cover back over his head.
"I'll take the blame," he said.
"We're probably really close now," Delmar gasped, coming up towards them. Ajalia nudged her horse away; she could hear Philas and Delmar talking behind her. She urged her horse into a canter, and clattered over the stone road. She came to a place where the road curved over the top of a rise, and dipped gradually down into a deep valley. She halted her horse, and rode back to Philas.
"Trouble," she said when she got close to him. She pulled the hood off of her head, and stuffed it into her robe where the wrapped packet of yurl hair lay. Her hair had mussed all onto one side from the close hood; she untucked the pins, and shook out her hair.
"There's a deep valley up ahead," Ajalia said, "all in shadow."
"There's no ambush," Philas said. "People come this way all the time."
"Not like this," Ajalia said. "We need light."
"We haven't got any light," Philas said pettishly.
"I can get you a light," Delmar said. Ajalia tore his brown tunic up over her head, and tossed it to him.
"The men down there aren't going to believe we're sailors," she said.
"There's probably no one," Philas said soothingly.
"You sound like Lim," Ajalia spat. "You would not have talked like that before."