Dynasty of Rogues

by Jane Fletcher

  She had been living in Ginasberg for three months when Beth asked her for a kiss. The proposal had been more challenging than seductive, and had not been helped by Beth following it up with, “Pam Collins has dared me to.” Even so, with hindsight Riki wondered if she ought to have said yes, since it was the only offer she had ever received.

  What chance was there of things changing now? Was it really just her reputation that had scared people off? Exactly how did Tanya feel? What clues should she look for? Supposing Tanya was interested, what then? Was it better to bluff things out, or admit a total lack of experience? It would be easier if Tanya ignored her, like everyone else had done. Riki’s palms were getting sweaty. She wiped them on her legs and then looked at Tanya, lounging on deck.

  The other passengers were still talking, but Tanya’s attention had drifted away and she was staring in Riki’s direction. For a moment, their eyes locked and Riki felt a physical jolt. The deck beneath her feet bucked. Had the ship hit a rock? Riki grasped the railing to stop herself from stumbling. Abruptly Tanya turned back to her companions.

  Riki looked out to sea, trying to act relaxed, trying to act like her heart had not just jumped up her throat, but every doubt and fear resurged through her head. Oh shit, girl. You are going to make such a fool of yourself.

  *

  Tanya stood on the head of the gangplank and viewed the scene. Coldmouth was a small town at the mouth of the Coldwater River. The farms and towns along the river formed the western edge of the Homelands. At its nearest, Landfall was over six hundred kilometers east. The overland journey by cart took a month in good weather, far longer in bad. Produce bound for the city could get there quicker and cheaper if shipped down the Coldwater, along the coast, and up the Liffy. The port at Coldmouth was thus the counterpoint of the one at Southwater, and like Southwater, its environs were uninviting, but rather than marsh, the region around Coldmouth was dry.

  Rolling sand dunes stretched along the coast on either side and extended inland for as far as Tanya could see. The town looked to be fighting an unending battle with windblown sand. The Coldwater River snaked wide and languid through the red landscape. Its delta was over a dozen kilometers wide, sliced with sandbars. The town was built beside one of the deeper channels that allowed seagoing vessels to dock. At the far end of the quay stood a tall tower, where a beacon burned at night. The shifting sandbanks were a serious shipping hazard and no captain wanted to get too close during the hours of darkness.

  The harbor was swarming with activity, as was the large adjacent market, crammed with traders’ booths. Solid warehouses lined the surrounding streets and beyond them, the roofs of houses ended in an irregular line where the dunes began. A row of pollarded trees ran around the perimeter of the market. Their twisted branches formed a loose web, providing some shade for those beneath, although most of the market was exposed to the harsh August sunlight.

  The ship had docked on the morning tide. Despite the early hour, the temperature was climbing. Tanya could taste sand and salt in the air. Riki had already disembarked and was weaving her way between the crates, sacks, barrels, sailors, porters, and carts that crowded the quay. Tanya waved good-bye to the crew and hurried to catch up.

  Coldwater was smaller than Westernfort, yet still it felt alien to Tanya, a town of strangers where she recognized no faces. The screaming babble of voices matched the frenetic pace. Everyone was in a hurry and nobody was willing to wait their turn. The only order was that the quickest and strongest went first. However, Riki sauntered along with a happy grin, dodging obstacles without breaking stride.

  Riki moved as if dancing, carefree, her body always perfectly balanced, adjusting smoothly to the swirl of activity around her. Hearing anything over the uproar was impossible, but Tanya was sure, even were there utter silence, Riki’s footfall would make no sound. It was the way she slipped through the forest, silent and swift, leaving no trace of her passing. Tanya dropped back a step so she could study Riki—her shape and the way she flowed. Tanya’s eyes started at Riki’s shoulders and slowly sank lower.

  Without warning, Riki pulled up beside a porter who was loading a cart with sacks. Tanya barely managed to avoid running into the pair. She took a small step back.

  “Where’s the Coppelli offices?” Riki shouted to be heard.

  “Over on Southside.” The porter jerked with her thumb.

  “Thanks.”

  After more hectic minutes of battling through the scrum of bodies, they arrived at their destination. Riki pushed open the door and stepped through. Tanya followed, pleased to escape the noise and chaos. Yet, even here, three women were having a loud argument about a delivery of wine. At last, an agreement on “first thing tomorrow” was reached and two women left.

  The other turned to face them. “What do you want?”

  “Are you the forewoman?” Riki asked.

  “Yes. So what do you want?” The forewoman was clearly still riled after her battle over the wine. Her tone was combative.

  Riki pulled a note from her pocket and handed it over. As she read it, the forewoman’s expression went from irate to respectful. She looked up.

  “Ah, yes. Right. How can I help you?”

  Riki smiled. “We need three ponies. Two saddled, one as pack. Sound and healthy, but nothing that will attract attention when we ride out on them. And enough supplies for forty days. Trail kits. Blankets, waterproof canvas, flint and tinder.”

  “Weapons?”

  Riki glanced at Tanya. “What do you think? Will trail knives be enough, or do you want a bow?”

  “A small bow wouldn’t hurt, and a sheaf of arrows.”

  The warehouse forewoman nodded. “Very good. When do you need it by?”

  “The sooner the better.”

  “Will two hours be okay?”

  “That’ll do fine.”

  “And would you like to wait somewhere more comfortable?”

  Riki grinned. “Why not?”

  The forewoman lead them to another room clearly intended to impress business contacts. Sounds of the market were a muted background drone. Brightly colored rugs covered the floor in reds and blues. The furniture was elegant and arranged for effect. Open windows overlooked a tiny courtyard garden. Wine, water, and sweet brandy stood ready at the side.

  “Help yourself to whatever you want. I’ll have food sent in.” The forewoman ducked out of the room.

  Riki poured herself a glass of wine and sank into a pile of silk cushions on a wicker chair. “Your grandmother certainly knows how to write a note to her employees.”

  Tanya dithered between the wine and water before also selecting wine and settling in another chair. “She’s had a lot of practice.”

  Tanya took a sip and then stared at the ripples on the surface, unsure what to say next. She and Riki had been together for eight days on the boat and had met a dozen times in the temple, but never before had they spoken without anyone to overhear or observe.

  So what should she say to Riki? Make a dry observation about the irony that Riki’s breezy disregard for authority, which made her so infuriating in Westernfort, was so attractive when the authority took the form of the Sisterhood and the Guards? Maybe point out that the difference between an insolent smirk and a friendly grin was a matter of perspective, and with her current perspective, Riki’s grin made her knees go weak?

  Should she talk about the nights in the temple, when she had lain awake, wishing that Riki was beside her? Tanya took another sip of wine. It was all far too blatant. She might as well come straight out with, Tonight, when we make camp, how about we share blankets?

  Tanya swallowed the wine. She could always just talk about the weather. Or she could start off mumbling vaguely and see where it got her. Tanya licked her lips and leaned forward, but at that moment, the door opened and a girl came in carrying a large platter of fruit, bread, cheese, and sliced meats.

  “Please, ma’ams. Rodgers told me to bring this in to you.”

  “Thank
you.”

  The girl deposited the food and left. Tanya sighed and sank back in her chair. There was no rush. A long journey lay ahead. She did not have to say anything now—much easier to wait until they had relaxed and were sure of no interruptions. She did not want to risk saying the wrong thing.

  *

  From Coldmouth, a trail led north through the dunes, marked by tall posts. The shifting sands would soon cover any trace of a road, but by following the line of posts, a traveler could take a direct route across the changing landscape, without becoming lost and running in circles. The route was shorter and safer than the riverbank, with its loops and mud sinks.

  Sounds of town and port had faded long before they forded the last narrow distributary of the Coldwater delta, but the breeze off the sea still whispered over the sand. The dunes ahead had a patchy cover of long grass and low, clinging vines. Overhead the sun was approaching its zenith. Shadows were foreshortened, falling directly under the horses’ hooves.

  Riki glanced at Tanya, riding beside her. She had been subdued since leaving the boat, scarcely saying a word. Was it due to anxiety? Was she worried they might get stopped at the point of leaving the Homelands?

  Riki opened her mouth, then closed it again. In truth, they had not spoken much on the ship either, mainly socializing with the other passengers and crew. Was it that Tanya did not like her company, and now that it was just the two of them, she had nothing to say?

  The top of the next dune gave a view ahead. A few kilometers away the first scattered trees clawed a hold on the land, twisted dawn firs, the same species as in the marketplace, although here growing to their natural height. A huge loop in the river glittered to the west.

  Riki cleared her throat. “Your grandmother and I discussed the route to Westernfort.”

  “And?”

  “There were two options. Normally, people go for the shortest distance through the Wildlands. We could go upriver, until we’re due east of Westernfort, but I think we’d do better heading off from here and skirting around the bottom of the Longstop range. It’ll be quicker. I didn’t mention it before in case we were overheard.”

  “Do you know the region?”

  “No. But I won’t get lost. Is that okay with you?”

  Tanya nodded. “Sure.”

  “This trail fords the river ten kilometers north of here. Once we’ve crossed, we can turn west.”

  “Okay.”

  “We’ll also be way south of anywhere the Guards go. So there’s no risk of running into them.”

  “Yep.”

  “You’re not still worried about the Guards, are you?”

  “No. Like you said, they won’t be down here.”

  “Right.”

  As conversations went, it was far from scintillating. Riki clenched her jaw. If the silence was not due to worry about the Guards, the only other option was that Tanya simply did not want to talk. Presumably this in turn meant Tanya’s thoughts about her went along the lines of, Thanks for rescuing me. I no longer think of you as a pain in the ass, merely a dull ache. Now let’s rush back to Westernfort so I can meet my mothers and you can start calling me ma’am again. But Riki knew she was being unfair. Just because they were no longer enemies did not mean Tanya had to count her as a bosom buddy, or anything else.

  Riki averted her face, while working to keep her expression unconcerned. She wanted to hold Tanya’s hand again—or she thought that maybe she did. Regardless, it was quite obvious that Tanya would not want to hold hers. Beneath the regret, Riki was not surprised to feel an inkling of relief. Nothing else made her quite so nervous as the thought that Tanya might want to be more than friendly.

  And nervous was not too strong a word. It’s absurd. I’m more scared of Tanya than I was of Colonel Zelenski. Riki derided herself. Maybe I should deliberately do something stupid tonight, then she can put me back on her list of people she’d like to throttle, and we’ll be on familiar ground again.

  The idea was ridiculous but tempting.

  *

  The sand dunes were eventually lost under a thicker covering of trees. The terrain started to rise and the underlying bedrock broke through in places, revealing more of the striated red sandstone. The soil was darker and richer. Dawn firs were interspersed with broadleaf trees, mainly tiger oak and hillash. Dover fern formed most of the ground cover. Tanya grinned, remembering claims it was named that because you came across it over and over and over again.

  They had seen no one since leaving Coldmouth, apart from the crew of a passing barge, when they forded the river. This region was so sparsely populated it could hardly count as the Homelands. The town of Coldmouth was an isolated outpost, required only because deep-drafted ships could not sail upriver to the regions where farming was a practical proposition.

  Tanya took a deep breath of woodland air. She was back in the Wildlands, where she belonged. She had seen Landfall, admittedly not under the best of circumstances, but enough. She had no wish to see more. Meeting Grandma Izzy had been the best part. She would have liked to have spent more time with her elderly relative, but even were it safe, she would not want to face the noise, crowds, and alienation of the city again. Tanya had not realized how much she would miss ordinary things like trees and open sky.

  A bird perched, head height on a dawn fir, too concerned with the berries held in its wingclaws to break off chewing as they passed. Tanya twisted in her saddle.

  “Is that a chippit?”

  Riki glanced back. “Looks a bit like it, but its tail is too short. And it hasn’t got the yellow bars under its eyes.”

  “That’s what I thought. I wonder what it is.”

  “When we get to Ginasberg, we can ask Ash O’Neil. She’ll know, if anyone does.”

  “If she doesn’t, do I get to name it?”

  Riki laughed. “If you want.”

  Tanya straightened and looked forward, intrigued by thoughts of the journey ahead. The route would take them across the Wildlands, seeing places nobody had ever been before. Who knew what they would find? And there was nobody better to travel with. Tanya had complete faith in Riki’s wilderness skills. When Riki said she would not get lost, she had not been boasting.

  Tanya glanced at her companion. Riki was even more at home in the Wildlands than she was. Yet Riki was not out of place in the Homelands. She could play the Ranger or the city hustler with equal ease. Tanya’s eyes were caught by the sight of Riki’s hands, noting their precise grip on the reins. Her fingers were like the rest of her—small and agile, in constant motion, yet appearing relaxed by virtue of always being in the right spot. Tanya felt a blush rise on her cheeks as she realized where her thoughts were heading. She looked away.

  They had not spoken much on the trail. The debate about the chippit had been the first words they had exchanged in ages. When they made camp would be the time to talk. Tanya felt tense. What would Riki want to say? And how would she respond if Tanya said what she wanted?

  How much of Riki’s behavior in Landfall had been an act? Riki had worked to free her, but admitted she had personal reasons. She claimed she was on Tanya’s side, but was that only because the Guards were a common enemy? Would she want to be friends? Even if she did, would she be interested in anything more?

  The sinking sun shone directly in Tanya’s face. They would be making camp in another hour or so. Then would come the answers. Tanya caught her lip in her teeth. She was going to be so disappointed if Riki said no, but what reason did she have to expect any other answer?

  *

  They had made a small campfire to cook over, but in the warm night, it was not needed for heat and they had let it burn down to glowing embers. Stars were splashed across the black sky. The hard edge of their brightness was softened by Hardie, rising near to full in the east. Riki rested her arms across her raised knees and stared over the landscape. A light wind ruffled the trees, making the world ripple in a blue haze under the moonlight. No other lights shone out. They were alone in the Wildland
s.

  The ponies were grazing on the banks of a stream. The running water and the huffing of their breath were the only sounds nearby, though night birds screeched farther off. Tanya lay on her back at the other side of the campfire. She appeared to be staring at the stars, but then she sat up and shifted closer.

  “I wish there was some way I could thank you properly for helping free me.”

  The emotion in Tanya’s voice drew a modest shrug from Riki. “Your grandmother would have done it anyway, with or without me. She’s the one to thank. I was just on hand.”

  “But you were the one who gave me hope. When I was with the Corps it...I told you it got nasty for a while. Even when Grandma got me out of their hands, I couldn’t let myself think I was safe, in case it was a trick. It wasn’t until you appeared that I could believe. I don’t think you realize just how much you meant to me.”

  Riki ducked her head, confused and awkward. “If you help me get even with Loke, we can call it quits.”

  “Revenge? Is that your sole motivation in this?”

  “No, of course not.”

  “So what are your other reasons?”

  Tanya was clearly probing. Riki felt an answering flash of annoyance. She had already said she would never abandon a comrade. Presumably this was not enough. Riki glared at the embers. She did not want to mention her gene mother’s treachery, or her guilt over her birth mother. Those subjects were too raw.

  “Everyone in Westernfort and Ginasberg hates me. Mostly it’s fair, but not this time. Is it so strange to want to clear my name?”

  “I don’t hate you.”

  “You used to.”

  “And you weren’t too keen on me.”

  Riki frowned. The conversation was ricocheting around and she had the uncomfortable feeling that she was missing half the steps. “I was jealous of your rank. You being a corporal when I’d just been busted. I thought you only got it because of your mother.”