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through snow, as they often had to do on their way up to the People's Palace.
Jennsen realized that, even in winter, she was going to need water. She guessed that in a swamp there would be water aplenty. She realized, too, that the woman who had given her directions said that it was a long way, but hadn't described what was to her a long way. Maybe to her a long way was what Jennsen would consider only a brisk walk of a few hours. Maybe the woman had meant days. Jennsen whispered a prayer under her breath that it wouldn't be days, even though she didn't at all relish the idea of going into a swamp.
When a sound rose to rattle through the wind, she turned and saw a plume of dust rising in the distance behind her. She squinted, finally recognizing that it was a wagon coming her way.
Jennsen turned all the way around, scanning the barren country trying to see if there was any place she could hide. She didn't like the idea of being caught out in the open all alone. It occurred to her that men from back in the open-air market might have watched her leave, and then planned to wait until she was all alone, with no one around, to come out and attack her.
She started running. Since the wagon was coming from the palace, she ran the direction she had been walking-west-toward the dark slash of mountains. As she ran, she sucked frigid gasps of air so cold it hurt her throat. The plain stretched out before her, without so much as a crack to hide in. She focused on the dark line of mountains, running for them with all her effort, but even as she ran, she knew they were too far.
Before long, Jennsen forced herself to stop. She was acting foolish. She couldn't outrun horses. She bent at her waist, hands on her thighs, catching her breath, watching the wagon come for her. If someone was coming out to attack her, then running, using up her strength, was about as senseless a thing as she could do.
She turned back to face the sun and kept walking, but at a pace that wouldn't wear her out. If she was going to have to fight, she should at least not be winded. Maybe it was only someone going home, and they would turn in a different direction. She had only spotted them because of the noise of the wagon and the dust it raised. They probably didn't even see her walking.
The chilling thought washed through her: maybe a Mord-Sith had already tortured a confession out of Sebastian. Maybe one of those merciless women had already broken him. She feared to think what she would
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do if someone were methodically going about snapping her bones in two. Jennsen could not honestly say what she would do under such excruciating torture.
Maybe, under unendurable agony, he had given them Jennsen's name. He knew all about her. He knew Darken Rahl was her father. He knew Richard Rahl was her half brother. He knew she wanted to go to the sorceress for help.
Maybe they had promised him they would stop if Sebastian gave her up. Could she blame him for a betrayal under such conditions?
Maybe the wagon racing toward her was full of big, grim, D'Haran soldiers come to capture her. Maybe the nightmare was only about to begin in earnest. Maybe this was the day she lived in fear of.
As tears of fright stung her eyes, Jennsen slipped her hand under her cloak and checked to be sure that her knife was free in its scabbard. She lifted it slightly, then pushed it back down, feeling its reassuring metallic click as it seated in its sheath.
The minutes dragged as she walked, waiting for the wagon to catch her. She fought to keep her fear in check and tried to run through in her mind everything her mother had taught her about using a knife. Jennsen was alone, but she was not helpless. She knew what to do. She told herself to remember that.
If there were too many men, though, nothing would help her. She recalled only too vividly how the men at her house had grabbed her, and how helpless she had then been. They had caught her by surprise, but, of course, it mattered not how, really-they had caught her. That was all that mattered. If not for Sebastian ...
When she turned again to check, the wagon was bearing down on her. She planted her feet, keeping her cloak lifted open slightly so she could reach in and snatch her knife, surprising her attacker. Surprise could be her valuable ally, too, and the only one she could hope to summon.
She saw, then, a lopsided grin of straight teeth beaming at her. The big blond man drew his wagon close, scattering gravel and raising dust. As he set the brake, the dust drifted away. It was the man from market, the man beside Irma's place, the man who had given her the drink of wine. He was alone.
Unsure of his intent, Jermsen kept her tone curt and her knife hand at the ready. "What are you doing out here?"
He still wore the grin. "I came out to give you a ride."
"What about your brothers?"
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"I left them back at the palace."
Jennsen didn't trust him. He had no reason to come give her a ride, "Thank you, but I think you had better go back to your own business." She started walking.
He hopped down off the wagon, landing with a thud. She turned to be ready, should he come at her.
"Look, I wouldn't feel right about it," he said.
"About what?"
"I could never forgive myself if I just stood by and let you go out here to your death-which is what it will be with no food, no water, no nothing. I thought about what you said, that there are some things that you have to do, or else life means nothing and isn't worth living. I couldn't live with myself if I knew you were out here going to your death." His tenacity faltered and his voice turned more pleading. "Come on, climb up in the wagon and let me give you a ride?"
"What about your brothers? Before I found out I'd lost my money, you wouldn't rent me a horse because you said you had to get back."
He hooked a thumb behind his belt, resigned to having to explain himself. "Well, we've been doing so well at selling wine today that we made a goodly sum. Joe and Clayton were wanting to stay at the palace, anyway, and have a little fun for a change. It was that Irma, selling her spicy sausages right beside us, that did it." He shrugged. "So, since she helped us do so well, it gives me a chance to come help you. Since she took your horses and supplies, I figure that giving you a ride is the least I can do. Kind of makes it even out a little. It's just a ride. It's not like I'm risking my life or something. Just a bit of help I'm offering someone who I know needs it."
Jennsen surely could use help, but she feared to trust this stranger.
"I'm Tom," he said, as if reading her thoughts. "I'd be grateful if you would let me do this to help you."
"What do you mean?"
"Like you said-some things you have to do to make life a little more meaningful." The briefest of glances took in her ringlets of red hair beneath the cloak's hood before turning solemn. "That's the way it would make me feel ... grateful to have done something like that."
She broke the gaze first. "I'm Jennsen. But I don't-"
"Come along, then. I have some wine-"
"I don't like wine. It only makes me thirsty."
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He shrugged. "I have plenty of water. I brought along some meat pies, too, They're still hot, I bet, if you hurry and have some now."
She studied his blue eyes, blue like her bastard father's. Even so, this man's eyes had a simple sincerity about them. His smile wasn't cocky, but modest.
"Don't you have a wife to get back to?"
This time, it was Tom who broke the gaze to look at the ground. "No, ma'am. I'm not married. I travel around a lot. I don't imagine a woman would much take to that kind of life. Besides, it doesn't afford me much of a chance to come to know anyone well enough to be thinking about marriage. Someday, though, I dearly hope to find a woman who would want to share life with me, a woman who makes me smile, a woman I can live up to."
Jennsen was surprised to see that the very question made his face go red. It seemed to her as if his boldness in talking to her and offering
her this ride might be more forward than was his customary conduct. As affable as he was, he appeared painfully shy. Something about a man that big and strong being intimidated by her, a lone woman in the middle of nowhere, by her question about matters of the heart, put her at ease.
"If I'm not harming you, your business at earning a living-"
"No," he put in. "No, you're not-not at all." He gestured back toward the plateau. "We made a good profit today and we can afford a short rest. My brothers don't mind at all. We travel all over and buy whatever goods we can find at a reasonable price, everything from wine, to carpets, to spring chickens, and then we haul it back here to sell. It would really be doing my brothers a favor, giving them a break."
Jennsen nodded. "I could use the ride, Tom."
He turned serious. "I know. A man's life is at stake."
Tom scrambled up onto the wagon and held down a hand. "Careful, ma'am. "
She took his big hand and put a boot in the iron rung. "I'm Jennsen."
"So you said, ma'am." He gently drew her up to the seat.
As soon as she was seated, he pulled a blanket from behind and placed it in a pile in her lap, apparently not wanting to be so presumptuous as to spread it out over her. As she arranged it on her lap, she smiled her appreciation for the warm wool cover. Reaching behind again, he rooted around under a pile of well-worn packing blankets and came up with a small bundle. Tom grinned his lopsided smile as he presented her with
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the pie wrapped in a white cloth. He was as good as his word; it was still warm. He recovered a waterskin, too, and set it on the seat between them.
"If you'd prefer, you can ride in back. I brought plenty of blankets to keep you warm, and they might be more comfortable to sit on than a wooden seat."
"I'm fine up here for now," she said. She lifted the pie in gesture. "When I get my supplies back, and my money, I want to pay you back for everything. You keep a tally, and I'll pay you back for it all."
He released the brake and flicked the reins. "If that's your wish, but I don't expect it."
"I do," she said as the wagon lurched ahead.
As soon as they were under way, he turned from her westerly course to a more northwest line.
She instantly reverted to her suspicion. "What are you doing? Where do you think you're going?"
He looked a little startled at her renewed mistrust. "You said you wanted to go to Althea's, didn't you?"
"Yes, but I was told to go west until I reached the tallest snowcapped mountain, and then on the other side to turn north and follow cliffs-"
"Oh," he said, realizing then what she was thinking and why. "That's if you want it to take an extra day."
"Why would that woman tell me to go a way that would take more time?"
"Probably because that's the way everyone goes to Althea's and she didn't know you were in a hurry."
"Why send people that way, if it takes more time?"
"People go that way because they fear the swamp. That way puts you in closest to Althea's at the end, meaning you have to go through the least amount of the swamp. It was probably the only way she knew about."
Jennsen had to grab the rail for support as the wagon bounced over a crease in the rocky ground. He was right, the wooden seat was hard sitting and with a wagon made for hauling heavy loads, it bounced more when empty.
"But, shouldn't I fear the swamp, too?" she finally asked.
"I suppose."
"Well then, why should I go this other way?"
He looked over, again, taking the briefest glance at her hair. It was a behavior she was used to. Most people couldn't help but to look.
"You said a man's life was at stake," he said, his timidity gone. "It
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takes a lot less time this way, cutting the comer off the route by going this side of that peak she told you about and not having to go up that twisting canyon beneath the cliffs. The problem is, you have to go in the swamp from the back, so you'll have more of the swamp to go through to get in to Althea's."
"And that doesn't take more time, going through more swamp?"
"Yes, but even with having to go through more swamp, I'm betting you'll still save a day each way. That's two days saved."
Jennsen didn't like swamps. More to the point, she didn't like the kinds of things that lived in swamps.
"Is it much more dangerous?"
"You wouldn't strike out alone with no supplies if it wasn't pretty important-a matter of life and death. If you were willing to risk your life to do that, then I figured you'd be looking to save any time you can. If you'd rather, though, I can take you the long way, with less distance through the swamp. Up to you, but if time is important, it's two days more by going that way."
"No, you're right." The meat pie on her lap was warm. It felt good to have her fingers around it. He was a thoughtful man for bringing it. "Thank you, Tom, for thinking to save time."
"Who is it that's at the other end of life and death?"
"A friend," she said.
"Must be a good friend."
"I'd be dead, now, if not for him."
He was silent as they rolled toward the dark band of mountains in the distance. She brooded about what might lie in the swamp. Worse, she worried about what would happen to Sebastian if she didn't get Althea's help soon enough.
"How long?" Jennsen asked. "How long till we get to the swamp?"
"Depends on how much snow is in the pass, and on a few other things. I don't go this way often, so I can't say for sure. If we ride all night, though, I'm reasonably sure we can be to the back reaches of the swamp by morning. "
"How long to get to Althea's, then. Through the swamp, I mean."
He glanced over uneasily. "Sorry, Jennsen, but I don't know for sure. I've never been in Althea's swamp before."
"Any guess?"
"Just knowing the lay of the land, I don't think it should take more than a day to go in and come back, but I'm guessing. And that doesn't
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count how much time you'll be spending in there with Althea." His uneasiness returned. "I'll get you in to Althea's as quickly as I can."
Jennsen had to talk to Althea about the Lord Rahl-both her father, and the present Lord Rahl, Richard, her half brother. It would not be good if Tom were to discover who she was, or her purpose. His helpfulness would evaporate, at the least. She also thought that a reason for him to stay behind might be in order, lest he get suspicious.
She shook her head. "I think it would be best if you stayed with the wagon and horses. If you drive all night, then you'll need to get some rest to be ready as soon as I come out. It will save us time."
He nodded as he considered her words. "That makes sense. But I could still-"
"No. I appreciate the ride, the food and water, and the warm blanket, but I won't let you risk your life in there, too. It would be the most help if you waited with the wagon and were ready to drive back when I come out."
She watched the wind in his blond hair as he thought it over. "All right, if those are your wishes. I'm glad you let me help you with my part of it. Where to after you see Althea?"
"Back to the palace," she said.
"Then, with good fortune, I'll have you back at the palace day after tomorrow. "
That was three days for Sebastian. She didn't know if he had three days, or three hours. Or even three minutes. As long as there was a chance he was still alive, though, she had to go into the swamp.
Despite Jennsen's misgivings about the job ahead of her, the meat pie tasted wonderful. Hungry as she was, nearly anything would have tasted good. She pulled a big piece of meat out of the pie, and, holding it between a finger and thumb, fed it to Tom.
After he chewed, he said, "The moon will be up not long after sundown, so by the time I reach the pass through the mountains, I should be able to see well enough to keep goi
ng. There's plenty of blankets in back. When night comes, you should probably crawl back there and, if you can, get some sleep for tomorrow. You'll be needing the rest. In the morning, I'll catch a nap while you go in to see Althea. When you come back, I'll drive all night and get you right back to the palace. I hope that way we can save enough time for you to help your friend."
She swayed in the seat along with the big man she had only just met, who was doing all this for a stranger.
"Thank you, Tom. You're a good man."
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He grinned. "My mama always said so."
Just as she took another bite, he added, "I hope Lord Rahl thinks so, too. You'll tell him when you see him, won't you?"
She didn't know what he could possibly mean, and feared to ask him. As her mind raced, she chewed, using her mouthful as an excuse to delay. Saying anything might inadvertently get her into trouble. Sebastian's life was at stake. Jennsen decided to smile and play along. She finally swallowed the mouthful.
"Of course."
By the slight but sublime smile that lent a curve to the line of his mouth as he tended the reins and watched out ahead, it had been the right answer.
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Light suddenly hurt her eyes. Jennsen held a hand up against the brightness and saw that Tom was pulling the blankets back off her. She stretched and yawned, but then, realizing fully why she was in the back of a wagon, where they were, and why they were there, her yawn cut short. She sat up. The wagon was stopped at the edge of a grassy meadow.
Jennsen put a hand on the side of the wagon, on the coarse plank worn smooth along the top edge, and blinked as she looked about. Behind them, craggy gray rock rose up, holding in its cracks and fissures low stalwart bushes, gnarled and hunkered low, as if against an enduring wind. Her gaze rose up the weathered rock to where it dissolved into mist. Tangled growth lay at the foot of the walls beyond the edges of the meadow and beside the narrow chasm that cut through the rock. Tom had somehow jockeyed the wagon between those steep cliffs. The two big draft horses, still standing in their harnesses, cropped at the shaggy grass.
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