“Beneath me?” I said. “I didn’t say that!”
“Didn’t you?”
He turned away, walking back towards the stream. I watched him, wondering if I’d been behaving as badly as it sounded. He was tired. I could tell it from the way he walked, from the stoop in his shoulders and the way he favored one leg over the other. He probably had blisters on his feet. His boots were nice but they weren’t designed for walking like this. If I’d taken the time to notice, I may have seen the dark circles under his eyes as well. I’d been too wrapped up in my own concerns.
“General Corsan’s farm isn’t far from here,” I said. “Maybe an hour, no more than two. That’s where I had been planning to stop. We should find food there, and maybe even a steamwagon we could borrow.”
Robie had knelt down next to the stream. He was drinking from it as I spoke. He splashed cool water over his face and neck and then stood up, smiling. “Well why didn’t you say so? Let’s get moving!”
He rushed up the embankment and continued past me. I watched him, mystified. Could the thought of food and a comfortable ride have so rejuvenated him, or had I overestimated his exhaustion? I shook my head and started after him.
It was strange to me, crossing land by foot. I had taken long walks before but I’d never covered so many miles on the ground, especially not at such a meandering pace. In the trees, I could cover great distances in relatively short periods of time. Here on the plains, I was as helpless and plodding as a plow horse. I did have a distinct advantage over Robie however, not only because of my Tal’mar blood, but because I was lighter and less burdened.
Robie had not only his cutlass to bear, he had also taken a battle harness with two good-sized swords from the body of a slain Vangar warrior. I had thought at first that the blades would be ridiculously large for him, but once Robie had slung them over his shoulder, I realized they weren’t a bad fit. I wondered if he truly knew how to fight with weapons like that. I supposed it was something he had learned over the years while I’d been flying around with my head in the clouds. It was just one more opportunity he’d taken advantage of that I had missed.
We reached the general’s farm in a little over an hour. As we came over a rise and saw the tiny patch of green vineyards surrounded by hundreds of miles of golden prairie, it occurred to me how easily we might have missed the place entirely. It had never been hard to find with my plane, but a person on foot might have walked right by and never even realized it. Upon reflection, I realized that I may have been overconfident in my abilities. Had we been traveling half a mile to the west, we would have missed the place entirely.
“I don’t get it,” Robie said. “Why would General Corsan choose a place as far from civilization as he could get?”
“It is that,” I agreed. “But the general did spend many years protecting the Borderlands from the Tal’mar. I suppose this place is home to him now.”
“Just him?” Robie said. “Does he live alone, then?”
I nodded. “When I was here last, I asked the general if he would ever find a mate. His answer was that he was too old to take care of himself, so why would he want to take care of someone else?”
Robie snorted. “Crazy old man. More likely he just doesn’t want to share his wine.”
We made the short trek down the hill and found the general working in the barn. He had a forge fired up, and appeared to be working on a pair of shears. We startled him as we appeared in the entryway and our shadows passed over his work area. He jerked his head around, blinking with his good eye (Corsan had lost an eye in battle many years earlier, and still had not only the eye patch to remind him of that grim battle, but a long scar that ran diagonally from his forehead to his cheek). He recognized us and waved as he set the hot steel aside.
“Breeze, it’s good to see you! I didn’t hear your plane,” he said as he came to the front of the barn.
“I didn’t fly,” I said. “Do you remember Robie?”
“Of course.” They shook hands and Corsan looked back and forth between us. The smile faded slightly from his face. “What’s going on? You two look like someone just kicked your favorite dog.”
“General, we have to talk,” I said. “Something terrible has happened.”
“All right, come on into the house. I’ll get you a drink. You two look as dehydrated as a pair of old saddlebags.”
“And food?” Robie said. “Do you have food?”
The general laughed. He guided us to the springhouse behind the cabin, where he fetched a jug of cool sweetthistle tea and then led us inside. His home was a true split-log cabin, but it was larger than most. The general had designed and built it himself, using all the knowledge he had gained while working as an engineer with the Tal’mar. He had built a rather impressive home. It seemed large for one person, but then the general never did things small. With some modifications, the house could have been turned into a lodge to house a dozen people, but as it was the place was very nice.
Corsan gave us bowls of soup from a pot simmering over the fireplace, and while we ate, we told him about everything that had happened. He listened intently, asking a question or two but for the most part simply digested it all. After we had told him everything, he leaned back in his chair and stared through the kitchen window at the miles of wild grain waving in the breeze.
“These Vangars came here for something,” he said absently.
“My grandmother said it was steel they came for,” I said. “They know about Blackrock steel.”
The general considered that. “She may be right, but they won’t stop at that. They came with too much force. If it was just steel they wanted, they could have negotiated. They want more.”
“Like what?” said Robie. “So far, we’ve only seem them taking captives. Do you think they’re here for slaves?”
“That’s possible,” the general said. “Until we know more about them, we shouldn’t suppose too much, though. What about the two of you? What are your plans?”
“We’re going to Anora first,” Robie said. “Hopefully, they managed to hold the Vangars back. I’m worried about Riverfork.”
“I’m not hopeful about either one,” Corsan said. “If these Vangars have weapons as powerful as you describe, Anora would stand no better chance than Avenston or Silverspire.” He smacked his fist angrily on the table. “Politics! Unbelievable. Breeze, after everything you accomplished, after you filled your father’s shoes and helped to end the war and gave these people their first glimpse of peace in a thousand years, the first thing they did was set to bickering: What lands go to the Tal’mar and which ones go to the humans? Where do we draw the borders? Who pays for the roads? Who collects the taxes? People just can’t be happy until they’ve ruined everything. They can’t be happy with what they have because they’re always worrying about what someone else has.
“All of these years they could have been building our defenses, improving our technologies. We should have been looking for danger like this, rather than sitting and waiting for it to find us. I told King Ryshan as much when I submitted my resignation and he looked at me like I was a fool.” He took a long drink from his glass and stared at us, anger burning in his good eye.
“You don’t think Anora survived, then?” Robie said.
“From what you’ve told me, my guess is that every city in the kingdom has been overrun. This is what happens when you build a house of cards. Sooner or later, someone comes along and kicks it down just because they can. That’s your Vangars. I guarantee that once they’re in control, they won’t sit back on their haunches and start bickering.”
There wasn’t much I could say. The general had been more guarded with his language when he was younger, but now he was retired. He said what he felt and didn’t care what anyone thought about it. We fell to silence for a brief while, absorbing everything we had discussed. At last, I noted the sunlight curving through window and realized how late it was getting. The sun would be down in a few hours.
�
��We should be going,” I said. “We have a long distance to walk.”
“You’re serious then?” the general said. “You’re still going back?”
“We have to,” I said. “Robie has his family, and I left Tinker in Riverfork…”
He nodded thoughtfully. “I understand.” He rose from the table and crossed to the front door. “Come with me,” he said.
We followed Corsan out behind the barn. The early afternoon sun washed over us, and with my belly full of stew I was tempted to curl up on the ground and fall asleep right there. I sympathized with Robie. If I was that tired, he must have been exhausted.
Corsan led us past a woodpile and a barrel full of junk parts to an old steamwagon covered with a heavy canvas. He pulled the canvas off, revealing a machine covered in dust and cobwebs. “It doesn’t look like much,” he said. “Been rusting back here for a few years. It’s powerful though, if you can get it running. You’ll have to dust the cobwebs off.”
I walked around the vehicle, inspecting it slowly. The wood was old and rotting to the point that there was a hole in the floorboard. The leather seat had hardened and cracked, and at least one rusted spring was poking out through the material. Mechanically, it wasn’t much better. The brass and copper pipes were corroded and tarnished. Most of them felt solid when I tugged at them, but they needed a good going over. Even a small pressure leak can be extremely dangerous. The water tank had thankfully been sitting empty. A family of rats had nested in it at some point, but the metal seemed intact.
“We can push it out into the drive,” the general said. “You’ll get a better idea of what you’re up against.”
That proved harder than expected. The wheels had sunken into the ground over the years and the wild grass and wheat had grown through the spokes, virtually locking the wheels into place. Robie cut back the weeds with his dagger, but even with the three of us tugging at the old wagon, we still didn’t have the strength to break the machine free. After an hour of failed attempts, Corsan finally tracked down his horse grazing in a nearby field. He brought it back and hitched it up to the wagon.
At last, with a creak and groan, the steamwagon pulled loose and rolled out from behind the barn. As soon as it was free, the rear wheel promptly split in two and fell off. By that time, the sun had sunk nearly to the horizon and the shadows of the Blackrock Mountains were creeping across the plains like a living thing, moving so fast that I could actually watch it. It was a disheartening moment.
“Well, you’re not going anywhere tonight,” Corsan said. “I can fix that wheel but it’ll take a few hours. I have no idea what the engine will need. I’m no tinkerer”
“I’ll work on that,” I said, heading for the barn. I was already starting a mental list of the tools I’d need.
“What about me?” Robie said. “What can I do?”
“Go make dinner,” I said with a smirk, recalling the conversation we’d had the previous afternoon. He cocked his eyebrow at me.
“Plenty of stew,” Corsan said. “Why don’t you give me a hand with the axle, Robie?”
Chapter 8
I was unfamiliar with Corsan’s barn but it didn’t take long to find his hand tools. I can find my way around most workshops pretty well. I gathered up a few wrenches, a hacksaw, and the other tools I’d need, and I went back to inspect the plumbing on the steamwagon’s engine. It wasn’t long before I found a brass pipe with a crack in it. I wasn’t surprised. Brass hardens under heat and pressure, becoming more brittle with age. Steamsmiths, engineers, and mechanics all know it’s better to use copper or steel. Copper is best of course, as it stays strong and doesn’t easily rust, but it’s difficult to smelt and mine so it’s generally more expensive than brass or steel. Brass is an alloy of copper of course, but it’s cheaper because it’s alloyed with less expensive metals. It’s also more brittle, but mechanics and steamsmiths often use cheap materials if they can get away with it.
I pulled the pipe off and headed back into the barn where I’d seen a stack of copper lying in the corner. While I was there, Corsan came in. “It’s getting late,” he said offhandedly as he twisted the metal brace of a wheel spoke. “Gonna need a lantern out here pretty soon.”
“We’ll manage,” I said. I was distracted, digging through the pile for a piece of copper tubing that was the right size.
“I have an extra room. It’s not much, but you’re welcome to it.”
“That’s kind of you,” I said. “I think I can have the engine running tonight, but I suppose I should let Robie get a few hours of sleep.”
“Indeed. You’ll be joining him then, in the guest room?”
I dropped the pipe I’d been inspecting with a noisy crash and spun around, staring at him. “What? No, of course not! We’re not…”
“Ah,” he said, grinning from ear to ear. “And why not?”
I felt heat warming my face and ears. “Don’t be ridiculous,” I said. I knelt down and began digging furiously through the pile.
“You know, most human women your age have already had several children.”
I kept digging, too embarrassed to look him in the face. “I’m not human,” I said flatly.
“Aye, and not Tal’mar either. Isn’t that right? Seems there was a time when you were both, rather than neither. Best of both worlds, we used to say. You remember that?”
I took a deep breath. “Don’t you have any pipe the right size?” I said, making an awkward attempt to change the subject.
“Like that one in your hand?” he said. “You just tossed three of ‘em on the pile.”
I paused in my work, staring at him. I looked at the pipe in my hand and then at the ones I’d just discarded. He was right. They were exactly the same size. I snatched one of them up and stomped past him without a backward glance. I was already out the door and around the corner before I realized I needed to use the pipe bender that was in the barn. I stormed back inside, throwing the pipes down on the workbench. Corsan stared at me, doing his best to suppress the ridiculous-looking grin that covered his face, which only served to make him look even more ridiculous.
“I’m taking a break,” I said, stomping out.
I heard him chuckling quietly as I stormed across the yard.
Back inside the cabin, I took a deep breath and settled into a chair. I watched the two of them work from a distance, wondering how it was that Corsan had affected me so. His question had caught me off guard, but it was more than that. It was almost like there had been an expectation, maybe even impatience. It was the same thing I’d seen in Tinker’s face a few times, but hadn’t realized what it was.
I thought back over the last few months, remembering all the times that Tinker had mentioned a young couple who’d just moved into a home in town, or another couple who were having a child. I suddenly realized that he’d been dropping hints for months. It was almost as if he’d been trying to plant the seed in my mind, encouraging me to develop ideas about a family.
And then there was the way that Robie seemed to show up everywhere I went. Every time I attended a party or a festival, Robie was there. I hadn’t even realized how suspicious it was until I thought back, remembering all the coincidences at once. It suddenly occurred to me that I’d been the victim of a conspiracy. Robie and Tinker had been working together, trying to wear down my defenses.
I glanced back through the window and saw Robie lifting the heavy rear-end of the steam wagon while General Corsan fitted the wheel onto the axle hub. Once it was in place, Robie set the wagon down. I heard their voices drifting across the property, but I couldn’t make out the words. They laughed. Then the general turned his head, nodding towards the house. Nodding towards me.
I leapt to my feet, suddenly outraged. I instantly forgot my previous embarrassment. I stormed back out into the yard, intent only on interrupting their conversation. Neither of the men looked up from their work as I approached the wagon. I stopped a few feet away, my eyes boring holes into the back of their heads. Still, they ig
nored me.
“How is the wheel?” I said after a few moments.
“The hub is fixed,” the general said absently, not looking up. “I’ll need another hour, maybe two for the spokes.” He paused in his work and glanced at the sky. “Gettin’ dark out,” he said. “I’ll fetch a lantern.”
He wandered off to the cabin and left me standing there, staring at Robie. Coward, I thought, turning to watch Corsan vanish into the cabin. “I saw the two of you talking,” I said to Robie. “What was so funny?”
“Oh, we were just sharing stories,” Robie said innocently. “The general’s great, I’ve never really had the chance to talk with him before. I’m glad we stopped here.”
I frowned, distrusting his sincerity. “You were talking about me, weren’t you?” I said.
He was behind the wagon and he leaned forward against it, staring at me. “Maybe,” he said. “Why?”
“What were you saying?”
“I told him I’m going to marry you.”
“You did not!” I said, instantly blushing.
Robie smiled mischievously. “What if I did?”
“You didn’t. You wouldn’t make a fool of yourself like that.”
His smile vanished. “What do you mean by that?”
“Only a fool would tell the world he’s going to do something that will never ever happen,” I said.
“Oh? And why is it such a bad idea?”
“Because I have no interest in getting married, Robie. Not to you or anyone.”
His eyebrows shot up when I said that. “Anyone? You mean Tam, don’t you?”
“Tam?” I said, staring. What did this have to do with Tam? And then suddenly I understood. Robie thought I’d been interested in the young Tal’mar warrior. I sensed jealousy in his voice as he said Tam’s name. I tried to hide my surprise, but I couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corners of my lips.
Tinker's War (The Tinkerer's Daughter Book 2) Page 6