On the Meldon Plain (The Fourline Trilogy Book 2)

by Brondos, Pam

  “Someone would have noticed something if we’d traveled with them,” Mervin continued. “I’ve found you can push the regular guards into doing what you want them to do if you make a fuss. Easier for them to let a cranky old merchant through than to listen to him complain and stir up dissent among the other merchants. Mudug’s inner guard are a whole different kettle of fish. They’d have had me in chains as soon as I said ‘haruu.’ We lucked out back there.”

  “That’s an understatement.” Annin’s voice rose from the darkness. “Not that I wouldn’t have enjoyed taking out a few guards, but that was cutting it close, Mervin.”

  Mervin chuckled. “My apologies, Annin. I’ll consider your nerves next time.”

  “Let’s hope that’s the last of the guards until we reach Rustbrook. Make for the ruins of the Emissary House. We’ll need to rest there before moving on. It’s the safest place between here and Rustbrook, unless you have another idea.” Andris leaned his elbows against Nat’s ribs, crushing her. She let out a little gasp of pain, wishing he’d get off her.

  “No, Emissary House is as good a place as any. No one goes near the ruins anymore. They’re all afraid Mudug’s guards will catch them, and the guards are afraid of the Nala, even this far north. I’ll give you the signal if I see more wagons. But best you all stay under wraps until we reach the House,” Mervin said.

  “Agreed.” Andris took a deep breath, pulled the rudit bag back into place, and refastened the clip. Little stars floated across Nat’s vision when he finally slithered off her.

  Fresh air flowed over Nat. The rank smell of five unwashed bodies combined with the odor of the rudit disappeared when she emerged from under the tarp.

  Annin took a deep audible breath. “I’ve never been more thankful for fresh air,” she said, sitting up. Half of the tarp flapped freely against the wagon bed. “I don’t think I could’ve taken much more of being sandwiched between you two.” She poked a finger at Andris and Soris. “You both smell like rotting mushrooms and rudit.”

  Soris stretched his arms above his head. Sweat stains marred his clothes. Nat peeled the drenched front of her tunic away from her chest. She sniffed and wrinkled her nose.

  Andris slid out from under the secured portion of the tarp. “We’ll be under here tomorrow, so get used to it,” he said.

  Benedict crawled out. “What are you complaining about?” His cheeks had a rosy hue. “That was an enjoyable ride. I slept most of the way.”

  “We know.” Annin freed her face of her damp curls. “Your snoring was louder than a lumberman attacking a tree. It’s a good thing we didn’t encounter any more guards with all the noise you made.”

  The wagon creaked and groaned. Nat’s feet landed on the soft grass. She looked around in wonder. Row after row of trellised arches created an overgrown, verdant covered walkway. Thin stalks formed columns that looked like four wooden ladders secured together. Tiny leaves sprouted from the stalks, forming a lacy pattern high above the walkway. Light shone through the holes in the leafy sky, making a pattern that moved on the ground.

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?” Soris placed his hands on Nat’s shoulders and turned her gently. Long thin poles carved with every imaginable songbird were tucked between the columns. She took hesitant steps toward one pole and ran her fingers over the lifelike birds. “This is where our mother apprenticed,” he said.

  They walked past the green trellises. She paused each time she spotted a pole. The carvings of the birds were all unique. Some had wings extended, others had beaks thrust open in song or tiny feet clinging to delicate branches. Her father would love these carvings.

  Mervin appeared at the end of the walkway, striding toward them on his long legs. “The ruins appear empty,” he addressed Andris. “But it wouldn’t hurt to do a proper search while I pull the wagon in.”

  “My thoughts exactly. Sister, go with Mervin and help him with the horses. Since you’re so well rested, Benedict, help them set up camp.” He fastened his sword to his wide belt.

  “There’s a well near the old stables. He can test the water.” Mervin nodded in Benedict’s direction. The Hermit bobbed his balding head in assent.

  “Soris, Annin, come with me,” Andris said. His eyes narrowed. “I believe the Sister can stand on her own, Soris.”

  Soris’ hands dropped from Nat’s shoulders. The three of them disappeared beyond the last leafy stretch of canopy. Why is Andris always bent on sending Soris on some task without me? she wondered. She climbed aboard the wagon and took a seat behind Mervin and Benedict. She understood that having Soris around the horses wasn’t the wisest idea, but she could help Andris search the surroundings as well as Annin and Soris could.

  “Heyah!” Mervin cracked his whip. The draft horses’ massive hooves pressed against the ground, slowly easing the wagon around until it entered the walkway. Nat stretched her hand out as the wagon passed through the tight space. Her fingers brushed the leaves and the wooden poles.

  “I see you’re not taking my warning seriously, Sister.” Benedict twisted around until he faced her. He bounced up and down as they passed over the overgrown path. Shadows and light scrolled across his face.

  “What warning?” She loosened the clasp holding back her hair. She raked her fingers through her damp scalp.

  “You’re growing too attached to that duozi. Nothing good will come of it.” He wagged his finger at her.

  Nat twisted her lips to the side. She pulled her hair back into a tight bun and secured it with a metal clasp. “Soris. His name is Soris,” she said, glaring at him.

  The wagon passed under the last verdant curve. Mervin shifted his arms to the left, and the horses lumbered to the side. A single intact stone tower crowned the hill above them. Vines choked the scattered stone ruins of the Emissary House. They rode past an outdoor amphitheater with terraced rows of stone benches in the side of the hill. Chunks of rock and cracked slabs of granite covered the ground.

  “He’s no more Soris than I am,” Benedict muttered.

  Mervin turned the horses again, and the amphitheater disappeared behind them. The wheels caught in a rut in the overgrown road. Mervin’s voice bellowed over the horses. The wagon lurched free, sending Benedict tumbling backward onto Nat. She pushed him off, and he rolled to the side behind Mervin.

  “Sorry about that,” Mervin said, but his lips curled into a little smile. He did that on purpose, she thought, wondering if he found the Hermit as grating as she did.

  Charred logs lay in heaps by the road. She leaned over the side of the wagon and examined the burnt remains of a long rectangular building. Carvings of vines and birds curled around the blackened wood. A narrow door with a lock the size of her fist remained upright, bound to its burnt frame by wrought-iron hinges.

  “What was that building?” Nat asked. Even in its current decayed state, she could tell it’d had no windows.

  “Hmm? You mean the Discourse House? Nala stayed there on the rare occasions when the Emissary Sisters had to negotiate with the creatures outside the Rim or the forest. Each Emissary House had one, surely you’ve seen one before.”

  “She’s a fringer,” Benedict said with contempt.

  “She’s a Sister and deserves more respect than you’ve offered,” Mervin corrected.

  Nat gave Benedict a sidelong glance. Heat was rising to his face. She smiled. “I’ve never seen a Discourse House before,” she admitted. Curiosity made her ignore Benedict’s jibe. “Nala actually stayed in there?”

  “Yes, with a contingent of your House on guard,” Mervin said.

  The wagon rumbled past the remains. The road sloped downward and the wagon picked up speed. A series of intact outbuildings dotted the side of the hill. Nat wondered if Mudug had left these alone because they were far away from the main buildings composing the Emissary House. Mervin pulled the wagon through the gate of an old corral. Grass covered the thick wooden poles of the decaying enclosure. She looked behind her. The hill obscured the Discourse House and the Emiss
ary House, but the tower atop the hill was still visible. They had reached the other side.

  Mervin pulled the reins taut. The horses slowed behind a narrow row of stables. They clopped a few more paces, then buried their heads into clumps of thick grass. Nat hopped down. The burnt remains of two barns flanked the stables. She ran her hand over the rounded river-rock walls of the stables. Benedict climbed down the wagon step. He limped around the horses and headed uphill toward the crumbling remains of a well.

  Nat busied herself with buckles and harnesses, helping Mervin unhitch the horses. Their wide heads nudged her feet out of the way when she stepped on their next morsel of grass. She lifted a saddle off one horse and heard the sound of running water.

  Water splashed down a wooden chute that led from the well to the stable. Thick wooden supports held the chute a few feet above ground before it entered a hole cut into the stone stable wall. Water coursed through the hole into a low trough near the corrals.

  Benedict dipped a vial into the surging water and settled onto a stone slab at the base of the well. A dark shadow marred the vertical rise of the hill above him. Steps led from the shadow and disappeared in the grass.

  “Is that a door in the hill behind Benedict?” she asked, following Mervin into the stable under the weight of one of the saddles. She dropped hers on top of a dusty sawhorse.

  “You’re full of questions.” He removed a dirty cloth from his pocket and wiped his brow. He dipped the cloth into the trough and wiped his neck. Nat plunged her hands into the cool water and splashed her face.

  “A little splash won’t hurt, but don’t drink it until Benedict tells us it’s clean. Mudug’s poisoned wells off the main travel routes. Keeps the merchants together and makes it easier for him to exploit their travels.”

  She cupped her hands and splashed the water on her face again. Streaks of dirt covered her hands as she rubbed her skin. She looked longingly at the water, then followed Mervin through the stable door.

  Benedict waved his thin arm in the air. “It’s good for the horses, but I have one more test to run before we can drink it,” he called down to Mervin. Nat studied the shadowy opening again. A collapsed wooden frame poked out from the blades of grass in front of the door.

  “The Sisters used that passage to get from the main House to the stables and those small buildings we passed,” Mervin explained as he led one of the horses to the trough. Nat tugged on the lead of the other horse. She felt like she was pulling a bowling ball tied to a string. The horse lifted its massive head. Grass stuck out of its mouth.

  “I wonder why they didn’t build the stables closer. We’re on the far side of the hill.” Her horse nudged her to the side when it smelled the water. Bits of green grass swirled around the water trough as the horses drank.

  “You can’t always have formal negotiations. If a Sister needed to negotiate with a party discreetly, they would avoid the House and use the smaller buildings. With the stables so far away, not everyone would see who was coming or going. The Emissary Sisters understood the need for discretion. Maybe a little too well,” he added. His hands knotted the horses’ leads to a sturdy post. “I saw more than one rabbit off the road,” he said, changing the subject. “I’m not settling for a slab of rudit tonight. There’s a ball of wire in the wagon we can use for traps.”

  “Rabbit’s better than rudit,” she agreed. “Anything is better than rudit.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  The soft rabbit fur slipped through Nat’s hands. Mervin’s pile of skinned rabbits lay in a pink heap next to him. He snapped the bones and sliced chunks of meat into the black pot. The fire hissed as droplets of water boiled over the rim. Andris had agreed to a fire, despite the danger that someone might spot them.

  “If Mudug’s guard passes through, they’ll find Mervin, eating stew and resting after a long day of travel. He has a legitimate reason to be here, and the guards already know he’s traveling this way,” Andris explained tersely when Nat questioned the logic of starting a fire. “You worry about getting yourself out of sight and in position behind those boulders if someone approaches.”

  “The guards never come here,” Mervin said as he stirred the pot.

  Benedict crumbled bits of a dark-green herb into the stew. “It’s not the guards we need to worry about.” His face was dour and his eyes flickered toward Soris. Nat flinched. The Hermit was on a roll with his insults and innuendos.

  “Soris or Annin will let us know if the Nala are around.” Andris sliced his knife through Nat’s skinned rabbits. He tossed a piece to Soris, who speared it on the tip of a pointed branch. Nat looked toward the tower. Andris had sent Annin there on watch before they’d started the fire and after she’d threatened to skewer Benedict when he’d called her a Nala spy.

  “They didn’t provide much warning back at the river, did they?” Benedict continued. Nat widened her eyes in disbelief at the words rolling off his tongue. “The creature almost had the Sister.” Deep lines curved down the side of his mouth when he looked at her. “Luck kept her from getting bitten, not those duozi.”

  “I’m right here, Benedict. Hearing every word you’re saying,” Soris said. He eased his knife over a tip of a branch. Bits of bark flicked into the fire.

  “Soris saved me.” Nat lifted off her heels and pointed her knife at Benedict. “I didn’t see you jumping up to help, and since when did you become so concerned about me?” Andris shot her a warning glare. She lowered her knife and wiped it on the overgrown grass.

  “My concern is that we’re trusting them to provide a warning.” He thrust his finger at Soris. “The Nala never used to come this far north. How do we know it wasn’t them that led that Nala to us? How do we know that—”

  “I would’ve warned Nat if I’d sensed a Nala, but I didn’t until it was too late.” Soris kept his eyes fixed on the boiling pot. “That creature felt different than a normal Nala.”

  “Different?” Benedict scoffed. “You expect me to believe that? Your kind can sense the Nala miles away. Estos put this mission in danger by sending you. The best place for your kind is away from humans.”

  “Enough!” Andris barked, but Benedict paid no heed. It was as if he’d been storing hundreds of hateful thoughts and decided that tonight was the time for the world to hear every rant.

  “Admit it, duozi follow the call of the Nala, they follow their ways. You don’t belong among humans.” He squared his shoulders and faced Soris.

  Soris clenched his jaw. Clutching his knife and the pointed branch, he stood and took a step toward Benedict. Mervin laid a hand on his arm, restraining him.

  “You’re nothing but a danger to us all. You belong in Mudug’s mines with all the other duozi!” Spittle flew from Benedict’s mouth. His voice rose to a hysterical pitch.

  “Duozi in mines?” Soris’ expression changed from rage to confusion in a blink.

  “Before Oberfisk left, he told me the guard had spilled that Mudug has all your like doing his dirty work in his mines.” A look of malice clouded Benedict’s face. “If I didn’t despise Mudug, I’d congratulate him for keeping you mind-twisters away in a hole where you belong.”

  “One word of praise for Mudug, and I will bind and gag you and see you spend the rest of this mission in misery.” Andris’ voice cut through Benedict’s labored breaths. “And my brother is not a mind-twister.”

  “Andris, you’re letting emotion control your better judgment,” Benedict said in a condescending tone. “He may have been your brother once, but now he’s a vile, manipulative half-breed. Just look at how he’s wheedling his way into the mind of a weak-willed Sister.” Benedict gave Nat a contemptuous look.

  Soris leapt on top of Benedict. His knife, bloodied from the rabbits, nicked Benedict’s throat. Nat could feel his anger and saw a look of true fear in Benedict’s eyes. Andris rushed forward and grasped Soris’ hand.

  “Soris, let him go.” Mervin’s low voice reverberated around them.

  Soris looked at the co
wering old man beneath him and dropped the blade. He stood and backed away, shaking off Andris’ grasp. He glanced at Nat, breathing heavily through his flared nose, and stormed away into the stable.

  “You will control your tongue,” Andris said through clenched teeth as he lifted the Hermit to his feet.

  The fear drained from Benedict’s face. “I am only doing my duty in warning you. You saw how he attacked me.” He looked white as the bleached rock underneath him.

  “Spare me talk of your duty.” Andris rose to his feet and stalked up the hill, disappearing behind the boulders.

  “Go find more sage,” Mervin said to Benedict as he stirred the pot. Benedict limped away, muttering to himself. Mervin retrieved the speared bits of rabbit smoldering in the fire. He dropped the charred pieces into the stew, broke the branches, and stoked the flame. The blackened pieces of meat looked like chunks of burnt wood bobbing in the boiling stew.

  “Cohesive group, eh?”

  Mervin’s voice startled Nat. She’d sat frozen through the entire confrontation. She looked at him. Steam rose around his face.

  “No,” she replied. “Not in the least.” Benedict’s hatred and Soris’ response were like a nightmare playing out in real life. “I’ll check on Soris.” She stood and brushed the bits of fur from her tunic. Mervin nodded and dug his long wooden spoon deep into the pot.

  The sound of splashing water resonated through the stable. Nat paused near the nickering horses tied up near the stable entrance and watched Soris splash his face with water. He ripped off his soiled tunic and leaned his hands against the trough. A blue tint colored his neck and his right arm and formed bands across his upper chest and abdomen. Nat could see his pained expression and the tightness in his muscles as he clenched the side of the trough. Her heart ached for him. She wanted nothing more than to hold him and magically make everything he’d suffered since turning into a duozi disappear.

  “Benedict’s views are warped,” she said softly as she approached him. His green eye met hers. “Don’t let him get to you.”