Luca made a show of laying his sword on the ground, attempting to look brave and confident, as if it were more a polite gesture than a capitulation. The other Vendrisi slowly followed suit. The spears lowered fractionally. Luca tried speaking in Trade, though he judged the chance of them knowing even this basic common language was minimal.
The leader did not bother replying. Instead, he turned to his men and spoke. Though the nomads were not horsemen, they seemed to know the purpose of reins and bridles. Some worked on freeing the weatherbeaters while others crowded closer, pointing in the direction of the river. A man carrying a pack took out sisal rope, and soon Luca and his men were bound. At least no one had spat at them or cursed them. Luca tried to keep his composure as the Krill herded their prisoners to an unknown destination.
* * *
They marched throughout the night, with only a short break for water when they reached the river. When the sun cracked the horizon, crimson and pink clouds bathing the grasslands in soft light, the Krill stopped, without a command from the chief. Ignoring their prisoners and the horses, they prostrated themselves, got back to their feet, and shimmied back and forth, ululating. Then, as one, they returned to their forced march.
By mid-morning they had reached a village, one that looked to Luca’s eye like a transitional place. Rather than buildings of stone or wood, the Krill lived in three-walled shelters made of mud bricks and flat roofs of reeds. The open spaces on the dwellings all faced east. Luca was willing to bet there was an element of sun worship in their religion.
The shacks were built in a haphazard fashion around a common area where there was water and livestock. A large pond with rushes and a few fish seemed to be the only water source; there was no sign of a well, reinforcing the idea that the Krill would move on when game became scarce. In the center of the common area, a good-sized fire burned within carefully arranged rocks, dabbed with colorful markings. A group of women stood around the fire—some peeling tubers, others chopping kindling to add to the nearby stack. By the placement of the fire, and the care with which it was tended, Luca judged it was important to the Krill.
People who worshipped the sun might also worship fire.
On the other side of the fire, a wooden pen held a few grassland cows. Women and children seemed to be in charge of dragging cut grass over to them. They wore cured leather tunics, while the men wore leather breeches. Luca saw few signs of ornamentation, other than some garlands woven of grasses and flowers. No telling how the Krill would react to the sight of the beads. As his possessions had already been confiscated, Luca’s ability to trade was hampered anyway.
Knowledge is the true wealth.
Luca sighed. How could he tempt these illiterates with knowledge?
An old man with a cane and a huge ceremonial headdress came out from one of the huts, hobbling over to look at the prisoners and then the weatherbeaters. He and the chief discussed the animals for a while, sniffing at them and poking at their ribs.
“Looks like they’re considering dinner,” Mak observed dryly.
Luca sighed. To have your goods taken from you was bad enough, but to have them so undervalued… Weatherbeaters did not exist in the islands, and the first time Luca had seen one, he’d been fascinated by the soft hooves that could suction onto rocks if the beast contracted the muscles around its fetlock.
He tried to communicate to the chief, pointing at the steeds and then at himself, hoping to give a demonstration of riding, but the chief waved him away in annoyance. Luca winced as the old man took a sharp knife to the throat of Calio’s mount. A crowd of women converged on the dead animal, carrying large straw baskets and more knives, sparing Luca further sight of the beast. They’d been good companions. He hoped something would occur to him before the Krill slaughtered the next one.
* * *
Luca and his men had been in the village several days—long enough to have to eat weatherbeater flesh themselves—without much change in their status. They were kept in a small separate pen of loosely woven rushes and wood, close to the pond and the ceremonial fire. They could easily have escaped the pen itself but were guarded day and night by men with spears, and in any case, they had no supplies, weapons, or mounts. The pen was uncomfortable and crowded with six of them; from the smell of it, and the trampled mud, it had been used for livestock before.
The Krill visited the pond all day, carrying water away in clay pots or bathing in gender-separated areas. Passing villagers looked at them curiously but made no effort to communicate in response to Luca’s efforts. Mak, Calio, Luca, and Yuvio eavesdropped on the villagers, trying to make sense of the individual words, while the twins discussed how long it would take them to kill their guards and escape. Revel stretched and lunged for exercise, showing through his actions which of the two camps he sympathized with. They were fed little and getting weaker by the day. Tempers were fraying.
Luca assessed the passing Krill women with a trader’s judging eye. According to the custom of Vendrisi, a Prime had to convince suitable women from different cultures to bear his children. From childhood on, the future leader was taught to be charming and present himself attractively. Luca knew he was the best-looking man in the village, even if he was bedraggled. He smoothed his golden hair and cleaned his teeth with a twig, provoking teasing from Revel. His older brother just smiled, guessing Luca’s plan.
The women moved in loose groups, some of them pregnant, others trailing children. His practiced eye singled out the weak link. She must have been in her early twenties, walking a few steps to the side or to the back of the other women, smiling when spoken to but otherwise guarded. She walked proudly, aware of her good looks, but she had no children. A widow then. The Krill regularly fought territorial disputes, so it was not a leap of logic to think there might be some widows.
Their pen had wildflowers growing on the fringe. In all the countries he had ever visited, women liked getting flowers. He waited until the woman came alone in the early evening and went to the fence, getting her attention with a whistle. Then he stretched his hand through the barrier, offering her the bouquet he’d gathered.
She hesitated, looking at the guards, but the guards were tired and bored. She came closer.
Luca put his heart into his eyes, willing her to take that extra step. She did.
He pointed to himself. “Luca.”
She repeated the gesture. “Elmina.”
CHAPTER 30
Berona
It was the first day of the Month of Darkness, and my shoulder had finally healed enough to ride. Hirschi insisted on buying a weatherbeater for me, so that jolting would be minimized, and the pain of my wound was dull, if persistent. Sunshine speckled through the evergreens, and the wood air smelled like subtle spice and the clean smell of snow.
I threw back my head and laughed for joy, glad to be on my way and see the other acolytes again. I was also happy about the news of my family. Yesterday Oberin had received a letter from his father. Though Oberin’s father was a lord, he’d once been a student of the Mannite ways and knew some magic. He’d elevated my mother to the position of household manager, and my sister was her assistant. Father had refused to come, insisting on staying on at the vineyard where he’d been hired as caretaker, but I didn’t think the Demon would bother him.
I was disguised as Oberin’s squire, in case we crossed paths with Amur’s Chosen. My chest was bound, and my once ragged hair cut short and dyed black. Oberin wore garments with the oak leaf emblem of his House picked out in silver thread. His cropped hair was hidden under the peaked hat favored by the nobility. The Yellow Robe was safely nestled in his side-bag. He wasn’t a purist like Shandon.
Back at Yassin, another girl about my height, with long red hair, the niece of one of the fierce Reds, would be walking the parapet wearing the charcoal clothes of an acolyte. It wouldn’t deceive the Demon if she got close enough to catch the scent of the woman’s blood, but it might fool the increasing number of Elementals who were spotted arou
nd Yassin. Oberin and I had left quietly in the early hours of the dawn, using a secret tunnel to reach the mounts hidden in the woods.
“We’ll be at the boundary of the camp soon. You’ll have to wait while I get the wisps imprinted with a sense of who you are,” Oberin cautioned.
The weatherbeater slowed down as we approached a thicket of birches, their pale trunks gleaming in the afternoon sun. A gossamer web drifted in between the branches, barely visible. The arrangement looked like a fence of trees covered with spider webs. In its entirety it constituted the wisps. I was awestruck.
Oberin looked proud. “These trees are sentient now. Namur, Rheyna, and Malar warmed the trees with firepots at night, sang them into strength and power. In the meantime, the twins, Soa, and I made the wisps in the tower at Yassin. Kendall and I carried them here last week. They’re sensate, made from heart memories, wild violet petals, and condensed clouds. They feel the intention of creatures, and they can learn. We have a mountain crystal in the Yellow hut that’s connected to them. Hirschi can look at the crystal anytime and see what they see.”
Maybe there was hope for us after all. “I didn’t know we had such magic.”
“It’s Elder magic. The Cabinet of Mysteries granted me the spell. We’ll do anything to keep you safe.”
Keep me safe until I was ready to face her and her terrible weapon. Someday soon, I would have to risk my sanity and my life.
“Give me your hand, so they can mark you as someone who is allowed here.” He took it, his trembling slightly, and guided it into the space between the trees. I felt the wisps vibrate, and warmth glided over me.
“I hope we’ve learned from our mistakes. You and the other acolytes will be protected here, while you learn.”
My thoughts turned to Kea. Would he be safe if I gave in to my feelings? He and I were meant for each other. He’d wanted me as soon as he met me, and I’d felt the same. That’s how the love stories always started.
In the stories a hero always has someone who loves him, who he fights for. Just because I was a woman, why should things be different?
* * *
A few moments later, I caught the first glimpse of our training camp. The scattered pines shone a vivid green against the lighter shade of the meadow, sheltered from the snowfall in the cradle of this south-facing valley. Four small huts, the freshly cut wood used for repairs clearly visible, and a large water trough fed by a spring took up part of the field. A barn stood to the side. In the cleared field, I recognized Moab and Kendall parrying with swords, the clinks of their blows carrying through the thin air. Lurking on the side was a hulking young man. He held a double-headed axe in the great ham of his hand.
“That would be Kilgad, the lad I told you about. Kendall recruited him from the village’s work crew as the circus strong man,” Oberin said with a wink. I’d heard Kilgad could carry a boulder by himself.
“He knows that the circus story is a deceit?”
“Shandon talked to him last week and explained we were Mannites. He is a simple soul, well intentioned, and not enamored of the Chosen.”
“What about the Demon? Couldn’t she have sent him?”
“She would have to guess we were here. Without her spy, we hope she believes you to be at Yassin.”
“You think it was Delphine too?”
“Well, I know this. When Shandon found Delphine, she was working for a gang of thieves, luring men into her apartment where she would give them strong wine. They would wake up robbed and lying in a gutter, far from her lodging, which was hidden in a warren of twisty streets.”
“I still wish we could have found her, to hear her side. The ground was wet and the sun in her eyes.”
“We’ll keep looking,” he reassured me.
We went to the sparring field first, so Oberin could formally present me to Kendall. She strode toward me, enveloped me in an embrace that took my breath away, then pulled back, eyes narrowed.
“How’s your wound?”
“The Green says I can practice with a wooden sword until I get my strength up. Oberin puts a boneset compress on it every night.”
She leaned close. “Hirschi must still feel bad about letting Delphine escape. He’s been in a worse mood than usual.” Then she grinned, intensity giving way to her usual good humor. “You have some friends waiting to see you.”
Moab trotted off the field, cheeks shiny with sweat. “Welcome, welcome. We’re going to have fun. I’ve been longing for a good sparring partner.” He gestured to one of the huts. “Let’s go see Rheyna. She’s in the smallest building with Namur, her master.”
Our voices must have carried in the still afternoon air. Rheyna tumbled out the front door, giving me a rose-scented hug. I wrinkled my nose.
“I was just making some perfume,” she laughed. “Let me put some on you.”
Now that I’d seen Kendall, I was itching to get in some practice before dark. I could just imagine her expression if I arrived smelling like a lady’s bower. “Maybe later.”
“Moab will let me scent him. I want to smell it on someone else.” Rheyna’s fingers reached up to brush through his hair. Her hands went from his hair to his cheeks before she self-consciously removed them.
“Kea’s over there in the Yellow hut.” Moab pointed to our left, escaping Rheyna’s ministrations.
My heart felt like it was in my throat. I tried to calm myself.
Kea was first out the door, his dark hair pulled back from his face with a band, his light-colored eyes scanning me. He smiled his gracious smile, showing even white teeth, and inclined his head slightly. Tight breeches accentuated the fullness of his muscular thighs and slender hips.
“Here you are.” He drew me close, and his smell enveloped me, clean and piercing, like lemons.
A woman’s voice intruded. “Merry meet.” It was Ilse. Kea’s arms dropped to his side. He gave me a helpless look. She moved closer to him.
I forced myself to smile and said lightly, “I just wanted to greet you before I joined Kendall on the field. We’ll see each other at supper.”
* * *
A ray of sunlight made me sneeze and wake up. For a moment, I couldn’t remember where I was. I sat up and looked out at the meadow bordered by pines. Birds greeted the morning. Kilgad stood outside, near my window, broad back moving as he stretched. I pulled the down coverlet up to cover my thin night shift. Kendall hadn’t gotten around to hiring a seamstress to make curtains.
At least a piece of canvas stretched across a wooden frame separated my bed and hers from the rest of the small cabin. Wood would be cut soon for a permanent wall. Moab and Kilgad shared a pallet in the main room.
I slipped on my gray woolen breeches and ambled into the main room. It smelled like damp and lye. The drying rack took up a quarter of the space. I noticed a giant pair of breeches mixed in with the jumble of garments. Kilgad had been chided for not changing his clothes every three days.
I took the tin bowl, cup, and spoon Kendall had given me yesterday and headed to the basic cooking area. Trainees received their own eating implements, along with bedding and a change of clothes. Moab greeted me and handed me fresh baked bread, drizzled with butter. “Rheyna made tea today—strawberry leaves, mint, and lemon balm. Tomorrow it’ll be Namur’s turn for tea and yours for the breakfast.”
“Barley porridge,” I said. “It’s got more sticking power.”
Moab stood up, chewing his last piece of bread. “Look at the sun. Time for the laps. Kendall and Kilgad are already waiting. Then after that, squats while we hold boulders. She claims it strengthens our legs.” He smiled. “But I think she just likes to see us suffer. Anyway, after that, there’s riding lessons, and after lunch all of us fight in formation. You should see Alse struggle. And Ilse. She can barely hold a dagger.”
“That sounds like a full day.”
“Oh, that’s all before you join Shandon to learn some history. There’s always a chance we might encounter Elders once we leave Trea, or maybe some of
those tunnelers, the Kijari. Then Kendall has us again after supper. She’ll be taking us into the woods so we can learn how to orient in the dark.” Moab chuckled. “That has its uses. I came across a nice, cozy cave where Rheyna and I can be by ourselves.”
“How do you find time for that?”
“We meet after supper sometimes. The woods orientation is just once a week.” He shot me a pitying look. “Of course, you’ll be working on spells every evening. Kendall bought an entire barrel of lamp oil.”
I was tired already, and I’d just gotten up. I threw back my shoulders and took a deep breath, patting Shandon’s magical sword.
I couldn’t let them down.
CHAPTER 31
Luca
Weeks went past, weeks during which Luca gleaned more information about village life. Once Luca judged Elmina had a bond with him, he urged Mak and Calio to join him at the fence. His older brother radiated trustworthiness, and Mak was a slight man who would pose no threat.
Mak was also a good artist, and once Elmina became used to the visual representation of an object, sketched with one of Yuvio’s charcoals, they were able to learn more of her language. They found out the chief was called Emer and that his brother had been Elmina’s husband before he died in a raid.
Luca tried to explain the function of the weatherbeaters by sketching mounted men, but Elmina’s shrug, followed by motions to her mouth, showed that her tribe considered them only a good source of food. They’d been kept in a pen next to the cows, and three remained of the original eight.
One morning Elmina came by the pen very early, while the four guards dozed. One of the Vendrisi always had guard duty. This morning it was Revel, who noticed her stealthy approach and woke Luca. “Your girlfriend wants to talk to you.”
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