by C. R. Daems
"Two or three if you like." I smiled.
Marku shook his head and began walking with me back to the wagons.
"What happened?" several asked at the same time as we entered the circled wagons.
"Ryana alerted me to the trouble, so I sent her to wake Yoan and Vali. Yoan killed one, Ryana hit one from behind, and Yoan, Vali, and others are chasing the third one."
I had always enjoyed the classes where you were given a situation and had to make up a plausible story. A good Spy had to be not only inventive but spontaneous. Everyone looked toward me.
"I couldn't sleep and it was a beautiful night, so I decided to take a walk. I never saw them, but I heard one swear when he tripped. They obviously weren't up to anything good, so I went to Marku's wagon and woke him."
"What did you hit one with?" Ilka asked, looking at me with real interest.
"With a rock. I jumped on his back and hit him in the head. He'll probably have a terrible headache when he wakes and a lump the size of a goose egg." I laughed, held my head, and wrinkled my face in mock pain.
"The Shadows may have made a mistake when they let you go, Ryana," Ilka said, looking serious.
"I'm still mad at Morag, but I've to admit there's more to being a Shadow than hitting someone in the head with a rock."
The camp was awake now and everyone sat around the fire talking about the thieves. By then, the third one had been captured and the two lay tied to one of the wagon wheels. The clan bombarded me with questions. I stayed with my original story, embellishing it only slightly. Someone started a fire and drinks and food magically appeared. Soon the camp came alive with songs and dancing. I wasn't used to the chaos the clan took so naturally but forced myself to join in. The gathering broke up as dawn brightened the landscape with gold- and orange-streaked clouds. While the clan went about their morning chores, Marku walked me back to my wagon.
"I love Morag, but I have to admit I found it hard to believe her. Thank you, again. The loss of the horses would have been very costly in so many ways."
Marku had been obscure on purpose, and I appreciated his caution. The Sisters had been adamant about the need for caution. An overheard word could mean your death.
"If I helped the clan, it's the least I can do. You've treated me like family." I left him and walked back into the brush, needing to collect my darlings before the clan was prepared to move.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Miffin—Saxis Province
I lounged on the wagon seat, enjoying the feel of the early-morning chill and the serenity of the open prairie with its gentle rolling hills. It provided a stark contrast to Ahasha Valley's steep canyon walls, rocky terrain, and thick vegetation. Vali had taught me to drive the storage wagon, which I now considered my home. I felt comfortable in my new role. In the past three sixdays, I had become part of the tumbling act, albeit a small part, learned to operate the tent games and drive my wagon. My cycles of training had made me flexible. Even so, the workouts with the tumbling group had improved my agility, a useful skill for my current assignment.
My musing ceased when I saw Marku approach on his beautiful Vanner stallion. Mostly midnight black with a few white spots and streaks of white through its mane, it was a magnificent animal. When I realized he wanted to talk, I slowed the wagon. He nimbly stepped from his horse onto the wagon, leaving the stallion to trot alongside.
"I've heard a rumor that a Shadow in Adak has been killed. They didn't know her name." His face furrowed with concern.
"Karsa." My thoughts collided in chaos. My assignment was no longer just another exercise. I found myself alone in a labyrinth of killers. With Karsa's death, my anxiety over killing another human had been resolved. Those who killed Sister Karsa and…the others must be held accountable. If I tried to succeed as a Spy, I would be prey. I knew now why Morag had given me the rank of Assassin/Spy.
"Did you know her?" Marku asked, breaking into my thoughts.
"No. I'm afraid this changes my plans."
"How so?"
"Whoever killed Karsa knows far too much about the Shadow Sisters. That knowledge could put you and your clan in danger. I intend to leave your troop as soon as possible." I would miss them.
"It isn't for me to tell you what you should do, but it would please me if you stayed. I promised Mistress Morag safe haven for you as a small repayment. The clan owes her that."
"But the clan doesn't understand the risk," I said while weighing my options. I would be safer traveling with the clan, but they would be more vulnerable. Alone, only I would be in danger. Staying, I put everyone in danger. These people didn't deserve the risk I presented.
"If I could tell them, they would feel the same way I do. Not knowing, they are less likely to make a mistake that might expose you and them. At least stay for a while. You can always leave if you need to."
"For a while."
* * *
That evening after the meal, Marku guided me over to where Alida and Ilka were sitting. "Alida, Ilka, I would like you to pierce Ryana's ear and give her one of our clan earrings."
The women looked to me and back to Marku.
"Is she joining the clan?" Alida asked.
"I thought we would make her an honorary member. She's helping with the acts and games. Besides, she kept us from losing our horses. And I'm afraid for her safety."
"From who?" Ilka asked.
"You heard the rumor that another Shadow was killed," Marku said, more as a statement than a question. When the women nodded, he continued. "If the killers find out Ryana studied with the Shadows, they could decide to kill her, too."
"But she failed…asked to leave," Ilka revised.
"She's obviously too young," Alida added.
"They might not see the difference or care," Marku replied. "Besides it will make her less conspicuous in our acts."
Looking around, I realized all the clan had earrings. Of course, I had seen the gold rings, but the significance never registered until now. Without one, I would stand out as an outsider. I had thought wearing similar clothes and being part of the acts would be the perfect cover. I shook my head at my own inexperience and arrogance. Thank the gods Marku recognized the flaw in my thinking. Still lost in my thoughts, I allowed them to lead me to the campfire.
"Clan!" Alida waved her arms. "Today Ryana's to become an honorary member of the Dorian clan. Why, you ask?"
"Because she's part of the acts?" someone shouted.
"Because she saved our horses?" another shouted.
"Because she saved Marku from being embarrassed," Yoan shouted to everyone's amusement and laughter.
"Yes, yes, and yes. And because someone's attacking Shadows. We promised Mistress Morag that we would see her safely home," Alida said more softly this time. "Does anyone object?"
Looking around the assembled circle, I saw no dissent. I hadn't realized how much a part of this small clan I had become, and my growing attachment to them. Those thoughts were interrupted by a burning sensation in my left ear. Training kept me from screaming, until I realized that wouldn't be the normal response.
"Ouch!" The pain receded when Ilka rubbed some ointment on the ear, and Alida held a mirror for me to see. A gold ring hung from my earlobe. I smiled. I quite liked the look and honor the clan had bestowed upon me.
Where did acting a part end and becoming the part begin?
I hadn't realized they could meld into one. Although I had no choice but to pretend to be something I was not, there was no reason not to enjoy the experience.
"Thank you, everyone. I'll wear it with honor." The next several hours were filled with singing, dancing, and feasting.
* * *
One day short of Miffin, a group of eight men stopped us. They looked and acted like veteran soldiers. They had good horses and were well armed with swords, knives, and bows, but they weren't wearing uniforms. As they neared, the clan subtly began preparing to fight, as hands discretely moved within reach of weapons.
"We want no troub
le, gypsies. We're looking for a woman wanted by Lord qi'Jochen," A broad-shouldered man said while his men began drifting along the wagons, scrutinizing each of us. I stared back when a thin, scarred-face man stared at me. He smiled. I did not. I had to look clan and knew they wouldn't be hiding their faces or smiling.
"What did she do?" Marku asked. I prayed he wouldn't fight to protect me. If he did, I would have to decide whether to stay to help or fade into the trees and disappear. The Dorian clan had become my friends, yet my assignment could determine the future of the Shadow Sisters.
Damn, life was complicated.
"We're all clan," Marku said. His horse stood a few paces from the leader. The two sat staring at each other for several minutes.
"Then you won't mind if we check for ourselves?" the raider said, clearly meant as an ultimatum, not a question.
"Two men, accompanied by one of mine. If finding this woman's your sole intent, two should be enough." Marku waved to Yoan, who jumped down from his wagon. In turn, the leader pointed to two of his men, who dismounted. They walked back to the last wagon. One entered the wagon while the other looked at Stela, who sat in the driver's seat. The search took close to an hour. They entered each wagon and scrutinized every person.
Morag had let the Shadow's Intermediate know she had sent a Shadow but not what she looked like or how she traveled. Morag had been right. I would be considered too young to be a Shadow. They would expect an older, experienced woman; therefore, it didn't surprise me when the mercenaries gave me only a cursory look. I doubted the clan's earring made any difference, but Marku had been smart to realize it may, if not today, then someday. It would be a long trip to Scio.
"You're free to go. Keep in mind there's a reward for this woman should you run across her. Twenty toras."
"She's definitely worth finding. How will I know this woman from any other?"
"She will be older. In her thirties and traveling alone or with someone she has just met. She will have clothing she's stolen from a Shadow she killed. Be careful, gypsy, she's dangerous."
"How will I find you if I do?"
"I'll be at your performance tomorrow." He turned his horse, and he and his men rode off. Afterward, I realized that my part had become real to me. I had remained in character, acting like any other clan member. And like the rest of the clan, I had been ready to fight. I had alerted Kasi and Anil and had palmed one of my rocktail-laced needles. I had come to realize the clan and the Sisterhood's interest lay on the same path.
* * *
Most of Miffin's population worked the iron mines or made swords and knives renowned for their high quality. I had practiced martial dances with a Miffin sword. It had felt like it possessed magic of its own.
As we entered the town, Marku rode in his most colorful outfit, which was in sharp contrast to his midnight-black horse.
"My good citizens of Miffin, come join us tonight for acts of skill and games to make you rich. We begin at sunset at the east edge of town," he shouted as we moved through the streets. When we reached a vacant strip of land just outside the town, we circled the wagons and a mad rush began to set up for the night's performance. I carried planks for the stage, hauled on ropes to set up the tents for after the show, and fed and watered the horses. We had barely finished when the first people began to stream in. Stela stood at the makeshift entrance collecting a copper each. There were always a few who avoided paying, but it wasn't worth the trouble or ill feelings it would cause to catch them. A copper was a modest amount. The gypsies made most of their money on games of chance, fortunetelling, and selling items they bought in the other provinces.
The leader of the men who had stopped us on the road and a few of his men were scattered among the crowd. I doubted he attended to watch the performance. They were hunting a Shadow. Little did they realize they were staring at her. I scanned the crowd looking for the Sisters Morag had indicated were in Miffin—a Spy and her apprentice. It would be an older woman accompanied by a young woman. If the mercenaries knew about them, they sought three, not one.
Before I could get a good look at the audience, Marku announced the tumbling act. We entered with a coordinated set of jumps, rolls, and spins. Next, each of us performed a separate acrobatic sequence followed by two- and three-man acts. The teeter-totter act was the highlight of the performance. It looked and was dangerous but beautiful to watch. During Yoan's knife-throwing act, I stood to the side observing the crowd. How good were my Sisters' disguises? As far as I could tell, there were six mother–daughter pairs unaccompanied by men. That would be a mistake if the mercenaries knew a team was operating in Miffin. Keeping separated would have been wiser. I began eliminating the pairs. Two of the younger women were my age or younger. If that were a disguise, it was perfect. Two of the older women were older than I would expect the senior Spy to be. Of course, a Spy could pull that off. If that was an act, it too was perfect. The other two were hard to eliminate. Finally, I had them. One pair was excited by the acts, while the other pair's excitement was stilted. It looked more like they were evaluating the acts. I would bet they were the Shadow Sisters.
Concerned for my Sisters, I watched the mercenaries wandering the crowd. They had their attention on the audience not the acts. They appeared to be searching for a middle-aged woman rather than a pair, although they didn't ignore pairs. Since the mercenaries were on the lookout, one misstep could put one or both in jeopardy.
Soon the acts ended and my time came to work the dart-throwing game. Since it would go late into the night, I instructed Kasi to watch the pair that I had identified. The two had left early, reinforcing my guess. By the end of the night, I had paid out one silver and made a profit of five. When the night's activities ended, the clan cooked a meal and sat around talking.
Afterward, I went back to my wagon and considered my dilemma. Morag had told me to trust no one, which sounded like good advice, but should I do that at my Sisters' peril? Yes, if it endangered my assignment. I laughed at the irony. I dressed in a Shadow's traditional garb and strapped on my blowtubes and needles. With my head wrap stuffed in my shirt, I then covered everything with the clothes I had used to travel to Sebec. When everyone had gone to bed, I slipped out of the wagon, making sure I avoided the step that squeaked, and wandered casually into the small forest behind the wagons. Once out of the trees, I wove in and out of the streets toward the place where they had rented a room. In the shadows behind the inn, I slipped down my pants and then pulled them up again over my skirt. I removed my shirt and stuffed it into my chest harness to make it looked like I had mature breasts. Mine were almost boy-like. I had tried this when I had been alone and decided it filled me out around the hips and breast, changing my figure and age.
Watching through Anil, I had determined their room and present profession. Although bats never use their eyes at night, they have good eyesight as well as hearing. Over the cycles, I had learned to see and hear through them. They didn't understand what they heard or saw, but I did. I scaled the wall to their second-story room and slipped through the window. The room was small with two narrow cots, table, chamber pot, and pitcher for washing. The room probably was provided as part of their wages—a tavern wench serving food and drinks, and a cook.
I slipped the small blowtube with a dart, dipped in rocktail, along my left forearm, and a needle, dipped in rockberry, in my left hand. Then I lay down on one cot and waited. Two hours later the door opened and the young apprentice walked in followed by the Spy, who closed the door. The young one walked to the table and lit a candle.
"Very sloppy, Sisters," I said just above a whisper. The Spy reached for her knife immediately, while the younger one was slow to get hers out from her shirt. "Don't. If I wanted to harm you, it would already be too late."
The Spy had her knife ready to throw but did not. Nor did she lower it. "Who are you?" she asked, keeping her voice low. To me, it felt like a cat-and-mouse game with them the mice. I instinctively knew I would win. Her essence, her life revolv
ed around being a Spy. They knew weapons but would be a fraction slower. I lay on the cot relaxed but prepared to put the young one between the Spy and me. The apprentice would go first.
"You're ordered back to Ahasha. There are mercenaries and others hunting the Shadow who Sister Morag sent to investigate our Sisters' murders. Although they look for her, they are scrutinizing everyone. One followed you here tonight."
"How did you find us?" the Spy asked. Her body was as tense as a fiddle's string.
I lay there considering her question. "You were acting the part rather than being the part."
After a minute, she nodded agreement.
"What does she mean?" her apprentice said.
"She means we were evaluating the performance rather than enjoying it like everyone else—a dangerous mistake. I should know better. Thank you, Sister."
"Hold out your hand." I stayed on the cot and held out my hand toward her.
"I'm Zeta and this is Salma." Carefully, Salma reached for my hand. I could feel her one line indicating an apprentice Spy.
"She's an Assassin/Spy," Salma's hand jerked away from me like it burned. Zeta lowered her knife and smiled.
"I should have known. We'll leave tonight."
"Eight men have a roadblock about an hour out of town. Be careful. May the shadow of our Sisters be with you." I rose from the cot and backed toward the window. I hated to be cautious around my Sisters, but I couldn't afford trust. "I'm sorry, Sisters. I don't want to see you again."
"What does she mean?" Salma asked.
"She means she'll kill us if we aren't gone by tomorrow." Zeta nodded. "I acknowledge your right."
I took a few steps backward, sat down on the windowsill, tucked my knees to my chest, and rolled backward. My knees took the shock as I hit the ground. Working with the gypsies had improved my confidence and balance. I found myself trembling as I faded into the shadows. Had I been intuitive or arrogant tonight? Intuition could save my life. Arrogance could get me killed. Had lying on the cot avoided a confrontation or put me at risk? Was I right ordering the Sisters home? What would Morag think? Did I enjoy ordering people around? I was but a novice Spy by choice and never wanted to be an Assassin. But I felt like an Assassin/Spy. I had found the Shadows and knew I could've disabled them. I had much to think about. Many lives could depend upon the answers.