“Where are they?” Jael demanded irritably. Dawn was lightening the sky.
“I don’t know. We’ll just have to wait.” Tanis put his arm around Jael and huddled closer.
The sun was well over the horizon when Letha, Bergin, and Nilde shambled down to the riverbank, carrying heavy bundles of pelts. Ignoring Jael and Tanis, they loaded one of the rafts and pushed it down to the water. At last, Letha turned and scowled at them.
“Well, are you coming or not?” she demanded. “No servants here to carry them bags.”
Jael and Tanis hurriedly scooped up the bags, and Letha and her compatriots waited impatiently, arms crossed, while they loaded their belongings as best they could. Almost before the last bag was in place, Bergin was pushing the raft into the water; Jael lost her footing, as usual, and sprawled over Tanis and their bags.
The river was rougher than it had looked, and the raft was less well made than it looked. Water sloshed up between the logs, and now Jael saw the reason for the small raised platform built near the center of the raft; likely sometimes it doubled as a floor for a sort of shelter, but now it provided a dry base for Letha’spelts. Tanis once started to move their packs to this platform, but
Nilde, speaking for the first time, told Tanis sharply to stay away from their pelts. Jael and Tanis had to make do by wrapping their bags in the waxed cloaks so that their few remaining supplies would not be totally soaked. They themselves had no such protection against the water that slopped over the sides or sprayed abruptly into their faces.
Jael quickly found that her few paltry excursions by small boat had in no way prepared her for the Willow River. Except during the spring floods, the Brightwater was slow, deep, and placid near Allanmere. The Willow River flowed fast and often rough and shallow—she couldn’t imagine how the large boats came up from the coast to Tilwich, unless the river improved dramatically farther south—and now Jael could appreciate Letha, Bergin, and Nilde’s expertise in carefully guiding the raft through the swirling currents, between foam-covered rocks that Jael could not even see until they were upon them. So intent were the three upon their difficult task that Jael and Tanis had no notion of offering their help; they simply sat as quietly as they could near the center of the raft, clinging together and to the logs when the wooden platform lurched under them.
Jael’s stomach lurched with the raft. She’d never traveled long by water before, and the placid expanse of the Brightwater and sparkling small streams in the Heartwood had never made her head spin and her guts roil as the Willow River did. Three times she lurched to the side of the raft to vomit, Tanis holding her securely so she should not tumble in if the raft jolted. After that she had nothing left to vomit and could only heave dryly until she was exhausted. Tanis looked none too pleasured by the ride, either, although he had traveled by river before and his stomach was not so affected. Letha, Bergin, and Nilde ignored them for the most part—the river demanded their full concentration almost every moment—although they directed a few contemptuous chuckles in Jael’s direction when she was ill.
They stopped the raft at noon to sup, and although they offered Tanis and Jael none of their food, Letha was almost friendly, spinning tales of the wilderness and the trappers who roamed it. She did not ridicule Jael, either, when Jael took a potion from her kit to ease her stomach. Even so, when Tanis offered her some of the dried meat they had left, Jael quickly waved it away.
“No rain of late just here,” Bergin said sagely, nodding his head at the river. “That’s why she’s so low and fast and in such a temper.”
“Times we’d travel on through the night, letting the river carry us and watching in shifts,” Letha said. “Too many rocks showing their backs now, though, and no hope of dodging ‘em all in the dark. We’ll put up on the banks come sundown and camp.”
After supper, Jael was glad enough she had not eaten. The river became even rougher and faster, and this time Letha was glad to have Tanis lend his strength at the heavy oar with which Bergin steered the raft, although she had no other pole for Jael to assist herself and Nilde at the sides of the raft where they pushed away from rocks, and in any event Jael was so sick-bellied she’d have been of little enough use. Water splashed so freely over the raft that everyone was quickly drenched, and Jael feared that their bags might be washed into the river. After Jael herself was nearly flung into the water more than once, she quickly bundled together those items most likely to be ruined by the water—her herbal kit, including the bottles of Bluebright, and what little journey food they had left. Satisfied that Letha, Bergin, and Nilde were well occupied with steering the raft, Jael quickly stuffed the small packet in under the pelts, and as an afterthought shoved her precious sword and dagger under the pelts as well, lest they be knocked loose and lost if Jael fell into the river. She almost stored the pouch of gems in her tunic with the rest, but on reflection that was foolish—if Letha and her friends discovered the small parcels, they might be angered; if they found the gems, however, there might well be worse trouble. Jael was glad, too, that Tanis had the silver safe in his tunic. That, at least, would not get washed into the river unless Tanis did, and Tanis appeared fit enough, despite the rough water, to keep his feet under him.
They stopped a little before sunset, Letha saying that beyond that point the river became more treacherous, although to Jael’s inexperienced eye the water had appeared to deepen and grow calmer not long before. The bank was too steep to draw up the raft, but Bergin tied it securely to the protruding roots of a tree growing out over the river. To Jael’s surprise, Letha did not unload the pelts. Unfortunately, this meant that Jael had no chance to reclaim her small bundle; the trappers cast a suspicious eye when Jael or Tanis even wandered too close to the platform. Jael had to be content with carrying their other baggage ashore and hoping that on the morrow the trappers would again be busy enough that Jael could reclaim the rest of their belongings before they reached Tilwich.
Nilde disappeared briefly into the forest, bow in hand, and returned only a short time later with five rabbits. These she skinned and gutted and stuffed with herbs Jael did not recognize, wrapped the hares well in leaves and then covered them in mud,and placed them directly into the fire. Some time later, Nilde removed the rabbits from the fire and cracked off the mud, then almost as an afterthought pushed two of the rabbits toward Tanis and Jael. The meat was succulent and tender, the unfamiliar herbs lending it a strange but savory flavor. The trappers were tired but cheerful over dinner, Letha stating that they’d gotten farther than she’d expected.
“With an early start, we’ll land in Tilwich by midmorning,” she said, swigging from her skin of ale. “Then you can buy new horses, and with the Moons you’re paying us, we can fill our skins with the finest wines boated north all the way from Zaravelle.”
She offered Jael and Tanis the aleskin. Jael refused politely, and was not surprised when Tanis also declined. Letha, with her half-rotten teeth and foul breath, was not the sort of person with whom most people would gladly share a bottle.
After dinner, Bergin produced a treat—small sweet cakes prepared by the cook at the inn in Willow Bend—and offered them to everyone, but Jael had no stomach for the sweets. She’d thought the meal would make her feel better, but now she began to question the wisdom in eating as her stomach began to churn once more.
“You don’t look so good, youngling,” Letha said, peering at her through the flames. “Sure you won’t have a sip of ale? Very settling.”
Jael shook her head, wondering if the potion she’d taken earlier might help—if she could get it from the raft, of course. Her belly was starting to cramp painfully, so severely that the pain almost doubled her over. She glanced over at Tanis. He was pale, swaying dizzily. As their eyes met, realization passed between them, and Tanis’s hand dropped to his sword.
“Go on, youngling, draw it,” Bergin chuckled. “If you can.”
Tanis staggered to his feet, swaying weakly as he dragged his sword from its scabbard.
Jael tried to stand, but her cramped belly constricted sharply and she fell to her side, groaning. Helplessly she scrabbled at her belt, suddenly realizing that her sword and dagger were still on the raft.
Tanis had his sword out now, but the point wavered unsteadily, the hilt only loosely clasped in his shaking hand. Bergin stood, stretched indolently, and sauntered toward Tanis. It took only the slightest shove to crumple Tanis to the ground, and a single kick sent the sword sliding away.
Letha strolled over to Jael’s side and rolled her over with one booted foot, chuckling contemptuously.
“Little fool’s not even armed,” she said. “Bergin, you watch them while Nilde and I check the packs first, give the drug a little longer to work. The boy’s unconscious, but the girl’s still moving. Nilde, you said this stuff would work on elves, didn’t you?” Nilde grunted her agreement.
Jael was too overcome by her pain to watch Letha and Nilde, but she could hear them rifling through the packs, tossing the contents aside after they’d been pawed through, and she heard the irritated cursing as Letha found nothing of value.
“I know they must’ve gotten some good coin from selling the horses,” Bergin said. “Search them.”
Jael struggled, but only feebly, as Letha’s grimy fingers pawed through her clothes. Before Letha could search far, Bergin covered the silver in Tanis’s tunic, and Jael hoped that Letha would be distracted. To Jael’s dismay, Letha was not too distracted to finish her search, and she eagerly seized the small pouch hidden in the waistband of Jael’s tunic.
“Ha! What’s this?” Letha exclaimed, carrying the pouch over into the light of the fire. “Nilde, let me use your small dagger. The cord’s knotted well.”
There was a fumbling sound, then three sharp gasps as the gems were revealed.
“It’s a blessed fortune!” Bergin shouted joyfully. “Just look at those jewels!”
“Take your hand away!” Letha said sharply.
“Now, don’t you take that tone,” Bergin warned. “I’m due a share of those jewels and I mean to have them.”
“And I,” Nilde said coldly. “You’d not have them without my drug.”
“Pah, two puny younglings, one not even armed?” Letha scoffed. Then her voice sharpened. “Back away, Bergin! I’ll not tell you twice!”
“And I’ll not say again that I mean to share in those gems!” Bergin roared. “Divide them now, or I’ll have them altogether!”
“Not while I live,” Nilde hissed.
Jael heard a few more exclamations, angry and incoherent, behind her, scuffling and then shouting, then the clang of blades. Desperately she forced herself to her knees, retching weakly, alarmed to see blood staining the bile that spattered the ground in front of her. But there was no time—while the trappers were distracted—
Haltingly Jael crawled to Tanis, her sounds muffled by the now-ferocious argument going on somewhere behind her. Tanis lay where he’d fallen, stubbornly fighting unconsciousness although his eyes were only half-open and he was shaking so hard he could scarcely push himself up from the ground.
“The raft,” he muttered when his eyes finally focused on Jael. “It’s our only chance. Can you make it?”
“If you can,” Jael gasped, retching again. A scream sounded somewhere behind them, and Jael thought that meant that the fight might soon be over. Arms around each other to lend what support they could, Jael and Tanis stumbled toward the river as quickly as Tanis’s shaking legs and Jael’s half-squatting posture would allow. Tanis fumbled with the knot tying the raft to the tree roots, but Jael shook her head, pushing him toward the raft.
“My knife’s there, under the pelts,” she said, splashing through the shallow water to half-fall onto the wet logs. That brought a fresh bout of retching, and it was Tanis who crawled to the platform and found Jael’s dagger.
Lying only half-conscious on the raft, Jael saw Tanis crawl painfully toward the rope, but before he reached the edge of the raft, the cramps seized her painfully once again, dragging her down into blessed darkness.
VI
When Jael opened her eyes, she found herself lying naked on a pile of rather musty-smelling pelts, more pelts thrown over her as a makeshift cover. It was hard to judge the time by the angle of sunlight on the bobbing, turning raft, but Jael estimated it was still fairly early in the morning. Her head throbbed ferociously and her belly ached as if she’d been run through, but she was warm enough and, thank the gods, alive. She started to sit up, then groaned as dizziness made her fall back.
Tanis, clad only in his trousers, immediately appeared at her side, holding his dripping but clean shirt.
“We don’t have a cup,” he said regretfully, “but I’ll squeeze some of this water into your mouth. Don’t try to talk until you’ve drunk some. You’ve retched your throat raw, I think.”
Even nodding sent fiery pain stabbing through Jael’s head, so she lay still and let Tanis soak the shirt in the river again and again until Jael could drink no more. The cold, clean water steadied her enough that she was able to scrabble through the pelts to find the kit she’d hidden and swallow a little of the potion her father had given her for her stomach. A few minutes later she could sit, if unsteadily.
“How long have you been awake?” she rasped, her voice a painful croak.
“Only since dawn,” Tanis said, sitting down beside her. “Letha lied; the river’s been calm as the Brightwater at midsummer, or we’d have broken up on the rocks during the night. You’d vomited all over yourself, and you were chilled through, too, so I rinsed your clothes in the river and laid them on the logs to dry.” His brow furrowed. “You had me pretty frightened. I didn’t know how to use the herbs and such in your bag, but I was about to chance it when you woke up. Whatever Nilde put in our food, all it did was make me sleep, but it half-killed you.”
Jael chuckled, then winced at the pain in her throat.
“She said her drug worked on elves. But I’m not as elven as I look, either.”
Tanis was silent for a long time, staring out at the river, and Jael finally spoke again.
“We’ve passed Tilwich, haven’t we?”
“I imagine so.” Tanis’s voice was carefully neutral. “I’ve been watching since I woke, and there’s been no sign of a town, or even docks or other rafts or boats. I think we must’ve passed it in the night. Baaros alone knows how far south we’ve gone.”
Jael was also silent. The river had widened and apparently deepened, too, and although the water was calm, the current remained steady and fast enough.
“There’s not much chance of getting back upriver, is there?” she asked at last.
Tanis sighed and shook his head.
“Even if we were strong enough to pole a raft this size upriver—and we’re not, that’s certain—the water’s too deep now. I’m sure the trappers never went south of Tilwich on their rafts for just that reason. We might be able to steer the raft to the west bank and try to walk back up the river, but we’ve got only a very little food, these pelts, your knife and sword, and some herbs and such.” Tanis forced a cheerful grin. “I think we’d fare better staying with the river until we come to another town or even a city. On a river this size, there’s bound to be some, since Tilwich gets its trade goods from the south.”
He didn’t say what Jael knew they both must be thinking— that they’d already been carried probably leagues out of their way south, and even if they could make it back to Tilwich, they’d only likely encounter Letha, Bergin and Nilde—or whichever of that threesome had survived their quarrel—and possibly many of their trapper friends.
“South sounds good,” Jael said, also forcing a cheerful tone, although her heart was leaden. “At least the nights won’t be so cold. And you’re likely right, it can’t be that far south to some kind of town or village.”
Tanis half-grinned and patted Jael’s hand. He snatched a few pelts from the pile and spread them over the logs. On the top pelt he laid his copper Guild token, his gold and r
uby temple-service ring with the emblem of Baaros, and, to Jael’s amazement, five Moons.
“I tucked them in my boot with my ring when I sold the horses,” he said rather sheepishly. “A habit I picked up from my thieving apprenticeship. It’s an old trick; I wonder that Bergin didn’t find them.”
“Well, it’s a good habit,” Jael said approvingly. “I wish I’d done it.”
“There’s this, too,” Tanis said, indicating the brass buckle on his belt. “But unless we need it, I’ll keep it on, thank you.”
Jael laid her sword and dagger on the pelts, then slipped the thick gold rings, each set with three green gems, from her ears and laid them on the fur, too.
“I suppose Letha got too interested in the pouch to bother with those,” she said. “It’s a good thing, too.” Emptying the sack she’d hidden under the pelts, Jael slowly laid out their few contents—her herbs, potions and salves, bandages and wound dressings, the small pouch of dried meat and journey cakes, and the two bottles of Bluebright.
“That’s all I have, except my clothes,” she said, sighing. It seemed a pitifully small hoard.
“Well, it’s not as hopeless as all that,” Tanis told her. “We have the five Moons. My ring and your earrings should fetch some money, and the pelts we could trade anywhere, even the smallest village. At least Letha and her friends left us something in trade, although it’s not a bargain I’d boast of.” He chuckled. “And the pelts are a little smelly, too.”
“Whenever we stop, I’ll rub them with sweet herbs. It’s an old elven trick.” Jael shook her head. “We don’t even have our map. But I suppose it doesn’t matter now, does it?”
“Well, we were leaving the mapped territory anyway,” Tanis said cheerfully. “We’ll make a new map when we learn where we are.”
Jael stared out at the river, considering.
Dagger's Point (Shadow series) Page 14