She stood up.
“If you will give me some oats, I will cook a gruel for the boy,” she said. “He will be quite dizzy still and is unlikely to have much of an appetite. I will also need some fresh wet cloths.”
Seamus showed Caitlin where the food and utensils were stored and gave her some more cloths. Then he left to return to the barn saying, “I must get back to mucking out the stalls.”
Caitlin spent the afternoon in the living room with young Dhanraj, feeding him the gruel, changing the wet cloths and keeping him under observation. In the late afternoon she heard voices out in the yard and soon Seamus came in followed by a small, slender woman with curly white hair. She was smiling and her twinkling eyes looked like they were eager to be happy with whatever she came across. Caitlin took a liking to her at first sight.
“My, my, Seamus,” she said, laughing. “I go away for half a day and return to find you in the company of a gorgeous belle. What would you do if I went away for a week?”
“Your husband has been very kind to me,” said Caitlin, smiling. “He has also been very helpful in caring for this young boy who was thrown trying to ride one of your horses.”
“Yes, yes,” said Binne, clicking her tongue. “I met Dhanraj’s parents in the village. One of the village boys saw you bringing him back here on your horse. They are very worried about him, but they are too old and frail to come here on their own. I assured them that Seamus would bring them tidings of their boy by tonight. We are happy to have him here till he is fit to be moved.” She paused and gave Caitlin a very warmhearted look. “Of course, we would be delighted if you would stay and care for him till then. It is hard enough keeping this ranch going with the two of us—we are not as young as we once were.”
Binne hung up her shawl as she spoke and went to work in the kitchen, while Seamus went back outside. A couple of hours later, delicious smells proceeded from the kitchen. Seamus returned, having made the trip to the village. He told Binne and Caitlin he had met with Dhanraj’s parents and laid their fears to rest. Then he excused himself to go and wash up.
Dusk set in and Seamus was building a fire in the grate when Dhanraj finally came round. The boy was very confused and had no recollection of what had happened to him.
“Who are you?” he asked Caitlin, when he was able to sit up. “Why am I at Seamus and Binne’s?”
“You are lucky I happened to come by,” scolded Caitlin. “It was incredibly silly of you to try and ride that young bay. Even if you could ride him, it would be wrong to do so without asking Seamus for permission.”
Dhanraj looked abashed.
“I love horses,” he said, looking down at his feet. “But we are very poor. I could never afford to own one.”
“You should have asked Seamus for work in his stables,” said Caitlin severely. “Then he might have let you ride a horse.”
“He cannot work out here,” said Binne, bustling in. “His parents need him to care for them several times a day. I am sure they already miss him sorely.”
Dhanraj looked guilty.
“I must return to them,” he said, attempting to stand. He teetered and then sat back down.
“You will have to spend the night here,” said Seamus firmly, standing up from the fire that was now blazing brightly. “I will take you to the village in the morning.”
The four of them sat down to dinner in the kitchen. Binne had made a much more appetizing gruel for Dhanraj and there was a very hearty stew for the other three, washed down with a hoppy home-brewed ale. Afterward, Binne brought out a spice cake and an old bottle that contained Kharvas, an anise-flavored rye alcohol. It went down very well, but Caitlin had not drunk this much since her days carousing with her huntress girlfriends. Without realizing it, relapsed into her strong singsong Zon accent. Seamus exchanged a look with Binne, but they did not say anything.
Caitlin offered to bed down in the barn, but Seamus and Binne would not hear of it. Binne made a bed for Dhanraj on the couch in the living room and another one by the fire for Caitlin from a pile of blankets and pillows. Caitlin was far too sleepy to argue. She obediently took the nightdress Binne gave her and went into their bedroom to change. It was a floor-length shift, but she was so much taller than Binne that it barely covered her knees. Then she came out and burrowed into the bed Binne had made for her. After weeks of camping, the bed was incredibly comfortable and fire was warm. She fell into a dreamless slumber almost immediately.
CAITLIN WAS AWAKENED by sunlight streaming in through the window behind her head. She smelled aromas wafting out of the kitchen and arose, yawning and stretching. She went to the bathhouse, performed her toilette, and dressed just as Binne called them all to eat. Dhanraj ate with good appetite and seemed quite recovered. So after they ate, Seamus hitched a pony to a small trap and set out with him for Hareskot village.
“So is it just the two of you on the ranch?” asked Caitlin, as they watched the trap rattle out of the yard.
“Yes, now it is just the two of us,” said Binne, her normally cheerful face clouding over. She did not speak for a long while. Caitlin did not press her, but eventually Binne continued. “We were childless for many years, but we prayed hard to the One God and ultimately he heard us. In late middle age, when we had given up hope, he gave us a daughter that we named Marte. We were the luckiest parents in the world, for we could not have asked for a more loving and devoted child. She grew into a beautiful woman and many asked for her hand. But she would not consider anyone who would not live on the ranch with us.” She sighed. “It is a hard life out here in the barren Southern Marches, and none were willing to accept those terms.”
Binne stopped and clicked her tongue.
“But you don’t want to hear the sad ramblings of an old woman,” she said, trying to brighten up.
“No, no,” insisted Caitlin. “I am very interested. Please go on.”
“We should have forced her to marry someone from the towns, for many merchants’ sons were taken with her,” continued Binne hesitantly, not sure whether Caitlin was really interested or just being polite. “Then she would have been safe. For when the Chekaligas came earlier this year, they took our Marte.” Tears started from Binne’s eyes. “I wish that they had killed us both instead of merely beating us. It would have spared us the tortures imagining what they must have done to her and how she must have suffered. The men from Hareskot found her mutilated body a week later. At least we could give her a funeral and say good-bye, unlike some other parents whose daughters were never found.” She paused. “I suppose that is a blessing from the One God.”
“I thought that Briga and Daksin pay the Zon Sisterhood to keep tribes like the Chekaligas in the hills and ravines,” said Caitlin slowly.
“I know nothing of politics and kingdoms,” said Binne, wiping her eyes. “Perhaps the Zon Legions protect King Harald in Dreslin Center and King Vokran in Sampore. All I know is that here in the Southern Marches, the Chekaligas come when they want and take what they want.”
“That is scandalous!” cried Caitlin. “You pay taxes—where are the king’s troops when the Chekaligas come?”
“They come sometimes,” said Binne, still teary-eyed. “But mostly they remain in their forts on the Daksin border.”
They sat in silence for a while. Caitlin felt like putting a protective arm around Binne but did not want to presume on such intimacy. So she just sat there and shifted uncomfortably in her seat.
“I will go out on to the range and bring in that young bay,” Caitlin said, breaking the silence that was threatening to become embarrassingly long. “He probably still has the rope that young Dhanraj threw around his neck.”
IT DID NOT take Caitlin long to find the young bay. He was grazing a short distance from the bulk of the herd. He was feisty, but for a horsewoman of Caitlin’s skill, he was not much of a challenge, and she soon had him under control. An hour later, she had him in a stall in the barn and after a few nervous shies, he allowed her to pet him.
/> She scoured the barn and assembled a grooming kit. After loosening the dirt in his coat with a curry comb, she used a hard-bristled brush in short strokes to remove it. The familiar action of rapid strokes in the direction of his coat growth was therapeutic. She lost herself in the rhythm and worked tirelessly till his coat was beautifully clean and soft. Finally, she used a grooming towel to work his coat into a high gloss.
Tired but content, she rested her back on one of the posts of the barn and surveyed her work.
“There,” she said to him. “Look how attractive you are. Let us take you out to the corral and make Rufus jealous.”
She led him out to the corral with her zircon lasso and shut the corral gate after him. Rufus intimidated the young bay. Although the huge red ignored him, he moved to far end of the corral. Caitlin leaned on the corral rails and called her horse. Rufus obediently trotted over, and she fed him the handful of oats she had in her hand. He nuzzled her, and she patted his neck, saying, “He’s just a needy young lad. You’re not jealous, are you?” Rufus was used to Caitlin talking to him, and he whickered.
Caitlin was brought out of her horse world by the sound of the trap. She walked back into the yard to meet Seamus and was surprised to see that he had brought Dhanraj back with him. Binne also came out of the ranch house. Both the women could see that something was terribly wrong. Seamus looked dazed, and while Dhanraj hung his head, they could see that his face was wet with tears.
As Seamus drew the reins to bring the trap to a stop in the yard, Binne spoke first.
“What happened? Why did you bring Dhanraj back?”
Seamus did not respond immediately. He climbed down from the trap and put his hand out to Dhanraj. The boy ignored his hand, leaped down from the trap, and ran into the ranch house. They heard him sobbing noisily through the open window.
“A pair of proselytizing Thermadan preachers came to Hareskot yesterday,” said Seamus. “When they learned that there were Yengars in the village, they whipped the locals into a frenzy with their talk of heresy and servants of the Evil One. They goaded a mob of youths into attacking Dhanraj’s parents. They beat them to death!”
“The poor old souls!” cried Binne. “They could barely walk! We know all the lads in the village. Surely they could not be so cruel.”
“People will do all manner of cruelty if they think they are serving God,” said Seamus tiredly. “I turned around and returned here as soon as I heard what had happened. I am afraid they will come here today, looking for Dhanraj. As you know, Cat was seen bringing him here yesterday.”
“Did they see him with you?” asked Caitlin.
“No, I don’t think so,” said Seamus. “I had him hunker down in the trap. I did not wait around to answer questions.”
“I am sure you are right; they will come here looking for Dhanraj,” said Binne decisively. “If anyone comes, we must say that he died from his injuries. I will hide him in our secret cellar below the kitchen floor.”
Caitlin said nothing, but helped Seamus take care of the trap and pony. They had barely completed this when they heard the clatter of hooves in the yard. They came out from the barn. Binne emerged from the ranch house, drawn by the same sounds.
It was a ragtag mounted group. At their head was a hard-faced horseman with a beaky nose, whose face was as leathery as his garb. His bearing radiated authority and he was clearly used to command. His sword and the crossbow slung over his back looked well used. He wore a wide-brimmed hat, and there was a bronze badge pinned to his vest.
Beside him were a couple of black-robed, middle-aged Thermadan preachers astride donkeys. They had thinning hair and well-upholstered middles. Behind them were two more warriors, who wore red vests over their traveling armor and half a dozen youths on unkempt ponies, armed with staffs and axes.
“Collector Yandharan,” said Seamus, addressing the leading man. “What brings you out here from the Serat Oasis?”
Instead of the leader, one of preachers responded, his tone arrogant.
“We met the Collector in Hareskot and he has accompanied us here. Along with our Red Sentinels, we are bringing the love of the One God, Lord Thermad, and the Thermadan Mission to the poor, rural folk of the Southern Marches. And to visit his fury on those who refuse to accept this love.”
“I have gone to the House of the One God since I was a little girl,” said Binne, speaking slowly but firmly. “I was taught that he stood for love, not rage or violence.”
“You are unread and ignorant, old woman,” said the other preacher, sneering. “You should read the Abaidan interpretation of Thermad. In Qura III, he tells us plainly, ‘To the infidels, I offer a simple choice—acceptance of the One God or death.’ ”
“We offered the love of the One God to the old Yengar couple in Hareskot,” continued the first. “But the old man had the gall to tell us, ‘I have worshipped Lord Moksha for over six decades, I see no advantage in giving him up now.’ ” He shuddered theatrically. “To hear the Evil One called upon so brazenly! It made my flesh crawl. Fortunately, the right-thinking youths of Hareskot put an end to their blasphemy.”
Neither Seamus nor Binne responded to this speech. The second preacher laboriously dismounted from his donkey.
“The folk in Hareskot tell us that you have the Yengar couple’s son here,” he said, leaning on his staff mounted with the Thermadan triangle. “Give him up to us—for we must bring him the love of the One God.”
“How do you propose to do that?” asked Caitlin, in a low voice. They had been eyeing her surreptitiously and now they all stared at her openly.
“Why, the devout will chastise him with rocks, sticks, and axes in the normal manner as they did his parents,” responded the first preacher. “If he truly accepts the One God, nothing will harm him.” He paused and eyed Caitlin suspiciously before turning to Seamus. “I smell sin here, rancher. Your women are bold and forward, with uncovered heads and faces. And this young one, dressed as a warrior—who is she?”
Seamus saw Caitlin’s indignant expression and spoke quickly before she got them all into deeper trouble.
“She is our daughter and has just returned from travel.” To prevent further discussion, he returned to their question about Dhanraj. “We did indeed have the young Yengar boy here. As you probably heard in the village, he was badly hurt trying to ride one of our horses. The One God has done your work for you, for he died of his injuries last night.”
“Hand over his body,” said the first preacher promptly. “It must be hung in the village square with his parents to show the good citizens the wages of serving the Evil One.”
“We burned his body,” said Binne hastily. “We hear that is what the Yengars do with their dead.”
“So you performed the dark rites of the Yengars, did you?” asked the second preacher ominously. “I’m getting a very bad feeling about all of this. Collector Yandharan, you must search the premises. Our Red Sentinels will assist you.”
“We are honest folk, we have nothing to hide,” said Binne, trying to sound cheerful. “But you must allow me to provide you gentlemen with some refreshment before you begin your search. Seamus, pray seat them all on the porch, I will bring out some snacks and cold drinks.”
The preachers looked at each other. It was hot, and they were not in the best of shape. The offer of cold drinks was attractive.
“All right,” said the first preacher slowly. “I suppose there can be no harm in it. While we fault you for your uncovered head, your generosity to the servants of Thermad does you credit.”
Binne disappeared into the kitchen, signaling Caitlin to follow her. The men began to dismount and make their way to the porch, while Seamus hurried to carry out more chairs from the living room, so that everyone could sit. Yandharan went into the living room with Seamus to help him.
“I thought your daughter was killed by the Chekaligas,” he said to Seamus when they were out of earshot of the others.
“We thought she was,” said Seamus ner
vously. “As you know, the Chekaligas are cruel, but unpredictable. They grew tired of her and released her. It is our great good fortune.”
“I recall your daughter as being attractive,” deadpanned Yandharan. “But she seems to have grown paler and much taller.”
“Perhaps you are confusing her with someone else,” said Seamus, licking his lips. “She has always been pale and tall—takes after Binne’s mother’s side of the family. They were Utrean.”
“I see,” said Yandharan. He pursed his lips and said no more.
While all the others seated themselves on chairs on the porch, Yandharan leaned on the porch railing. Binne and Caitlin came out with trays of cold drinks and small bowls of crunchy nuts. As the men ate and drank, the women remained standing and replenished their glasses and bowls. The preachers drank several glasses and crunched their way through several bowls of nuts.
Finally, one of them said, “Well, we must begin the search. Collector Yandharan, you are experienced in these matters—please guide our Red Sentinels and the devout youths who have followed us.”
Yandharan slowly uncoiled himself from the porch railing. To Caitlin’s experienced eye, he was the most formidable warrior present. She did not make eye contact with him but watched him out of the corner of her eye. Several times she caught him looking at her, but unlike the others, he did not ogle her. He seemed to be assessing her, carefully observing her weaponry and carriage.
Yandharan led the two Red Sentinels and the gaggle of youths into the yard. They began by searching the barn and other outbuildings and then came back to go through the ranch house. Throughout, Yandharan was deliberate and thorough. His face remained expressionless and he said little. The two preachers remained seated on the porch. They spoke to each other in loud voices and kept ordering Binne to bring them more refreshments.
It was over an hour later when Yandharan led the motley crew back to the porch.
“We have searched the premises thoroughly,” he said indifferently. “There is no trace of the boy. We found a large pile of incinerated rubbish behind the barn—nothing out of the ordinary.”
The Eclipse of the Zon - First Tremors (The New Eartha Chronicles Book 2) Page 3