by Diana Rivers
Having done the best I could with my poor, raggedy appearance, I led Marshlegs over to a stump. There, with a painful groan, I clambered onto her back. We made our way toward human habitation, or at least toward the smell of smoke, with me wanting to press forward and hold back at each step. Marshlegs, untroubled by my new-found fear, ambled along easily. After a few bends our path intersected with a real road, a road such as would lead to a village or perhaps even a town. There was no clear sign which way to go, but the smell of smoke came from one direction only. That was the way we turned. The road there was wide enough for several horses abreast. We had gone no more than a few steps on it when I heard the sound of horses being ridden in haste. A loud, angry voice in back of me shouted, “Make way, make way for the Zarn’s Commissioner!”
With no need of prompting from me, Marshlegs scrambled up the bank to clear the way. A group of men swept by us in a cloud of dust with hardly a glance in our direction. There were several guardsman in black and gold as well as two or three well-dressed gentleman riding at the center of the group. They filled the road with their passing, leaving no room for others. Had Marshlegs not moved so quickly, they might well have ridden into us in their haste. As it was, they left me coughing and coated with dust. Marshlegs picked her way back down to the road while I looked with care in both directions. It took some time for my trembling to cease, but I was certain now that human habitation lay before us and with it food.
Very soon the forest opened up to fields and farms. When we came to the top of a rise there appeared to be a town in the distance, or at least what I assumed to be a town. It seemed far larger than my little village or even the market village of Koorish, where we went each month to shop and trade. I could see a sizable cluster of buildings there and what must have been many streets. Surely in such a place there was food.
Then a terrible new thought struck me. What did it matter if there was food? My purse was lost along with my food pack. I had not one coin to rub against another and knew no one there to turn to. I did not even know the name of this town or how far it was from Nemanthi. When I had thought of leaving my village, it had certainly not been like this. I had never been in a town in my life and knew nothing of town ways. Whether I would beg or steal or have the good fortune to find someone who needed the help of a healer, I could not imagine. Whatever was to happen it must be soon. I had scarcely strength to sit upright on the horse’s back.
I went on now with little hope, but as my head was nodding forward one more time, something flashed on the road and caught my eye. Bending over, I saw several coins scattered in the dust. Weariness forgotten, I was on the ground in an instant, gathering them up. What incredible good fortune! They must have fallen from the purse of those passing gentlemen and not been noticed in their haste. Gold coins were something new to me. Very different from the dull, worn coppers I earned with my healing, they shone in the sun and felt warm and heavy in my hands. I poured them from hand to hand, liking the sound they made. Then I heard horses in the distance. Quickly, I slipped the coins into my healing pouch. Now I was no longer just a dusty beggar, I was a thief as well. No matter, I was too hungry to think on it for long. The bulge they made there under my hand gave a lift to my spirits as I rode along.
Soon there were others on the road. When the first of them came toward me, I could hardly breathe. I was almost sick with terror at the thought of what I carried. They passed, talking to each other with scarcely a look in my direction. Now I saw that I would have to learn to control this terrible new thing called fear. As each person approached me, my heart would begin to pound wildly. My impulse was to make a dash for the safety of the woods. Instead, I stilled my trembling by an act of will and kept my head low over my horse’s neck. Several more men passed. Though they seemed to take scant notice of my presence, I heard the words “clod” and “lout” pass between them. After a few times of this, my fear lessened and some anger took hold. “Think what you will of me, you fools,” I muttered under my breath, “as long as you let me pass in peace.”
Now you understand, of course, that as a dirt-child growing up on my family’s little farm I had never in my life been farther from home than the market village of Koorish, that being hardly an hour’s ride away. I knew no more than that of the world and those who lived in it. In Nemanthi, I had little reason to think much one way or the other on my appearance or the color of my skin except in contrast to Kara’s. I was simply a child of my village—though an unwanted one—and had the dark skin and dark hair and dark eyes of my people. Even in Koorish, most of the folk looked much like my family and were probably related to us in some way. Save for the Potter folk, the only white-skinned humans I ever saw were the Shokarn tax collector and his retinue of guards, those creatures whose twice-yearly appearance struck such dread in the village. Aside from that, no Shokarn ever passed our way. To the Koomir the Shokarn were something to be feared and avoided. They seemed to inhabit a different world, and the Koomir were like dirt under their feet. That much I had learned as a child.
Now, as I approached the town, I suddenly found myself on the road with folk of many differing hues, often lighter than myself, and many styles of face and clothing, all of which were new to my eyes. The closer I got the more varied the crowd grew. There were even several Shokarn in evidence. Timidity and curiosity warred in me as I struggled not to stare at all this strangeness and tried to keep my own face well hidden.
Just at the edge of the town I came to a group of men who filled the roadway, leaving no room for me to pass. They were all looking at a notice or edict posted on a large tree and arguing loudly among themselves. I was too hungry and too close to food now and so had no patience or not enough fear left. Without turning aside, I was trying to slip past them on the edge of the road when one of them noticed me and called out, “Hey, boy, can you read this edict? The Zarn’s men have just posted it.”
I shook my head as if dumb of speech and tried again to pass, but another of those men blocked my way, saying, “You have not even looked at it.” In that instant I saw once more the rough men of my village rushing at me with death in their hands. I was readying myself to bolt and so, no doubt, ruin my chances in that town when a voice from the other side of the crowd shouted, “Back away and give me some room, you ignorant louts. I will read it for you” Someone nearby pointed at me, saying to the man who detained me, “That one is but a farm dolt. How would he know how to read?” With a grunt the man stepped aside to gather with the rest of them around the reader. Forgotten, I was quick to move on, not even waiting to hear what was written, though the words “...shall be put to death by whatever means...” came through to me clear enough. A shiver went up my spine, yet surely what was printed there was no concern of mine.
The town itself, whatever its name might be, did not look so different from Nemanthi, save that everything was larger and dirtier and some of the streets were paved. Those that were unpaved were full of mud and flies, not so grand after all. Still this town was large enough. I thought it must surely be possible to buy anything there, but I had no notion of the value of my coins, and that worried me.
My hope had been to find some market in progress and seek out a vendor who seemed kindly disposed. I soon saw, however, that the market stalls were empty. The market square itself was rubbish-strewn and deserted. There was not even a food shop in sight. I was already feeling a sharp wariness in that new place and wishing myself elsewhere, far away from all those strange people, when an old tavern on the corner caught my eye or more truthfully, my nose. The smell of food poured out of that place to blossom richly in the street. It drew me toward it. I knew I could go no farther.
In front of the tavern was a long tie-bar with several horses already fastened there. I simply laid Marshlegs’s reins over it, not wanting to tie her. I knew she would wait there for me. As I was doing this the townspeople barely glanced at me. In fact, they seemed to look away. Perhaps it was my ragged appearance. They may have feared I would beg my d
inner from them and wished to hurry by before I got up my courage for it, leaving me to the mercy of their less wary neighbors. Indeed, it was not so far from the truth. If not for my lucky find, I might have been forced to do just that. For my part, I wanted to watch them and see how they did. I had never been in a tavern before. I had a great fear of betraying myself as a woman by some unguarded word or gesture. In Koorish, women alone are not allowed in taverns.
My hunger pulled at me fiercely, and still I hesitated before the entrance, shifting from foot to foot. Then, suddenly, I felt another’s eyes on me. I turned quickly and saw a young man who did not hurry by like the others. Instead, he stared quite openly, watching my every move. He reawakened all my fears. Though he did not approach or try to speak, he followed me to the tavern door. I could feel his eyes boring into my back and was hoping to disappear inside when the door was flung open and two guardsmen rushed out. The first of them shouted, “We may yet find the purse if we ride quickly.” He would have knocked me down in his hurry if I had not flattened myself quickly enough against the tavern wall.
“It was the Commissioner’s haste that lost it to start with,” the other shouted back as he swung onto his horse. With that they galloped off recklessly, rushing at a dangerous pace through the town streets in the direction from which I had just come. I scurried inside, very conscious of the coins hidden under my tunic.
With a quick glance about I chose a table in the farthest dark corner. I was hoping the serving girls would notice me there and others would not. No one even looked up from their food or their board games or their noisy hands of cards. With a sigh of relief I sank into a chair with my back to the wall. From there I could survey the room. I sighed again. For a few wonderful moments I even thought myself safe. Then my watcher came in and seated himself at a nearby table. Had I been followed here after all? Was this Jortho’s avenger? What did they want of me anyhow? All I ever asked for was to live in peace.
I soon noticed that there was only one serving girl for the whole tavern, and she was dashing from table to table. She passed me several times in her rush, her eyes sliding over me as if I were nothing but an old chair and with as little worth. I despaired of ever being served. Finally, just when I was on the verge of doing something rash, she was suddenly standing at my side, fingers drumming impatiently on the table while I struggled to find my voice. Speaking barely above a whisper, I managed to order my humble bread and soup. She had to bend her head to hear me. Meanwhile, I was groping among my new-found coins. I gave her the smallest one, hoping it would suffice. She looked at the coin in surprise, looked back at me, looked at the coin again, then glanced furtively all around the room before slipping it quickly out of sight. I had the unpleasant sense for just that moment of seeing myself through another’s eyes, dirty and ragged and no doubt a thief. I could feel a mixture of greed and wariness spreading out from her in waves. With all that she said nothing to me but gave me several coins in return.
While I waited, I sat with my head propped in my hands to keep myself from slumping forward on the table. The room began to spin. Soon the talk around me turned to a senseless rumble. The smells from the kitchen made my stomach clench and my mouth water. When she finally brought me my portion, I had to hold one hand steady with the other. I was fighting the impulse to shove all the bread into my mouth at once and down the burning soup in a few gulps. All this while that young man kept his eye on me so that even with the comfort of food, still I had no peace. That constant stare made my skin crawl and the hair rise on the back of my neck. For a moment I thought I had the sense of an intruding presence in my mind.
Just as I had begun to ease my hunger and was ready to ask for another round of the same—seeing how easily my coin had brought the last—there was a loud commotion at the entrance. The men who had been gathered around the proclamation now trooped in noisily together. They were talking loudly among themselves and to whomever else would listen. “Death edict, all girls of seventeen or thereabouts, all those born under the Great Star. Witch-brats, the lot of them, unnatural powers. The Zarn wants them done away with. Willing to pay a good price too, though I hear they are not so easy to kill.”
Now the talk rose to a roar, with many shouts and exclamations. I had already noticed a stack of edicts on one of the tables but, of course, could not read them, and so knew nothing of their content. Some of those were being passed about, though few there seemed able to read either. A man sitting near my table leaned toward his companion and muttered, “So, are we supposed to do the Zarn’s killing for him?” The other growled in answer, “Well, I am very glad to have no daughters, of that you may be sure. Do they really expect us to start killing our own, then?”
With my head bowed over my bowl I kept myself occupied, diligently sopping up the very last of my soup. I felt stripped naked. At any moment I expected all fingers to point in my direction. My watcher, I was sure, had seen through to my true nature and would soon denounce me. Instead he gave me a slight smile, almost of reassurance. Then, for the first time, he looked away.
Fearing to draw attention to myself I did not call for another helping. I even tried to pull farther back into the shadows, but as the men scattered to find tables, the one who had first asked me to read noticed me in my dark corner. “Well, boy, come drink with us. It seems there is some hunting to be done, eh?” Plainly, he had already drunk a good deal himself. He was in no mood to be opposed. When I shook my head, he gave a roar of anger. Even so, I knew there was no way I could cross that room steady on my feet. Nor could I drink with those men and stay safe and silent in my disguise. He pounded on the table and shouted, “Too good for us, are you? Then we will have to come and fetch you. No one refuses to drink with Mainard!” He was struggling to rise, wanting, no doubt, to put action to his words.
The scene was about to become an ugly one. I was preparing to leap up and flee, hoping that speed and surprise on my part would be matched by drunken clumsiness on theirs. Suddenly the young man who was my watcher stood up. Very deliberately he stepped between me and those men.
“So there you are, Cousin,” he said over the noise of the place. “I did not notice you before in your dark corner. I hear your father sent you here with a fancy horse to sell. My father says I am to look at it. Come and show me what you have”
“Who are you?” I whispered urgently, getting to my feet but not moving a step.
“Outside. Come quickly,” he whispered back. “You are about to be in more trouble than you can handle.” Then he said loudly, “If you show me this horse before I eat, then I myself will buy you your next round of dinner. How does that sit with you?” With that he put an arm over my shoulders and forcefully guided me toward the door, right past all those men. He even waved to Mainard the drunkard as we went, calling out, “Thank you, Goodman. You found my cousin for me. I had been watching for him, but this place is too dark.”
I had no choice but to comply, yet I was much afraid of him. And still...and still there was something in his manner that gave me confidence, some way he touched my mind almost as Kara had done.
When we were outside I said foolishly, “The horse is this way,” as if we truly had some business to transact with each other.
He laughed and dropped his arm. “Come now, do I look to be in the market for a horse, especially a fancy one? I have scarce two coins to rattle in my pocket. Besides, I have been watching you. I know well enough where your horse is. I only needed some pretext to have you out of there and quickly. It was not a safe place for you at that moment and likely to get less safe very soon”
“Who are you?” I asked again.
“Bring your horse around to the back where none can see us. There we can talk with more safety.”
When I hesitated, he said with some impatience, “Come, come, I am no lover of men who wants to grope with you in dark corners. Follow me and bring the horse.”
As he turned, I could have leapt on Marshlegs and ridden off. I even had a mind to do so when I h
eard him say Do not be a fool. It was not clear to me if he spoke aloud or somehow in my head. Again I felt that tugging on my mind that reminded me of Kara. Full of fears and doubts, yet pulled in spite of that, I followed where he led.
In back of the tavern were the ruins of some old walls and even a small portion of roof. We had no trouble finding a dark corner, private from the eyes of others. Once there, he took my hand and drew it to him. Now I was very sure he meant some sexual mischief, yet I could not resist him as I had so easily resisted others. He slipped my hand into his vest and under his shirt. Then he pressed it to his chest. There I felt the soft, round breast of a woman.
With a gasp, I drew back, but my wrist was tightly held. In a very different voice, this person whispered, “You asked who I am, and now you know. I am a star-brat just as you are, a daughter of the Great Star, born with powers.”
My heart was beating wildly. Frantically, I shook my head, trying to pull free of this stranger’s grip. “No use,” she said, “no use denying it to me. I knew who you were from the first moment I saw you. I have been hunting us far too long now not to know the signs.”
“No,” I said, trembling, not understanding how she could hold me against my will. “No, why should I trust you? You are a stranger.”
She gave a short hard laugh that sounded more now like a bark. “Why should you trust me?” she exclaimed. “Why? Because I have trusted you. Because what you just felt under my shirt could cost my life. You heard those men. You know what that means. If I wanted to betray you, I could have done it then and collected some money as well. Besides, as this game is shaping up and likely to be played, strangers may turn out to be more trustworthy than family or friends.”