Second Guard (2 page)

Fire!

The other tradeboat approached fast, propelled by the wind, which blew flames up the main masthead. A man appeared near the prow, a small child crying in his arms.

“Aid me!” he yelled. “The rest of my family is trapped below!”

Tali’s heart pounded. “Intiq, have mercy,” she muttered, kicking off her boots and shedding the heavy belt and sword. “Father! Awake!” she yelled, then dove into
the icy water. The current was strong, but Tali swam with sure strokes toward the boat, which now blazed like a torch down the river.

“Quick, the child!” Tali reached to the man, whom she now saw was not much older than she. The child in his arms began to cry, and clung to him like tribella vines.

“Larisa, you must let go,” the young man pleaded, peeling her off and lowering her into Tali’s waiting arms.

“I’ve got her,” Tali yelled, holding tightly to the flailing toddler.

The young man nodded and ran to the cabin. Tali struggled to keep her head above water as Larisa thrashed. After a few seconds of wrestling, Tali finally managed to pin one of the girl’s
arms beneath her own and gain some control. Slowly she fought her way back across the current, the child’s terrified screams ringing in her ear. Tali saw her father dive into the river in his
nightclothes, while Nel quickly lit the lanterns on their boat.

Tali kept her eyes on those lights, willing her free arm to keep slicing through the water.

Not much farther now.
Finally, her muscles quivering, Tali reached the rope ladder Nel had tossed over the side. Her sister gathered up the wailing child and bundled her into a
blanket.

At times it’s a grace, Tali thought, hauling herself onto the deck, that Nel cannot hear. She turned back to the railing to see her father swimming with a young boy on his back. The boy
looked as terrified as his younger sister, but mercifully, he remained quiet. Not far behind them, the young man and his father were helping a woman through the current, who appeared to be far
along with child.

“Is that everyone?” Tali called.

“Sí, m’ija,”
replied her father. In times of stress, he often reverted to the Far World tongue of his parents.

Tali leaned over the side and gave each a hand as they struggled up the rope ladder. Nel had managed to work her magic; Larisa now clung quietly to her shoulder, sniffling softly. When the girl
saw her big brother, she reached out her arms, and he folded her into his chest.

A short while later the children and their parents sat on deck wrapped in warm blankets that Nel had rummaged from the boat’s stores. Mugs of hot coffee were poured and honey rolls divided
between the children. The young man’s eyes followed Nel’s every move as she circled among them, making sure each one was comfortable. “My gratitude to you and your family,”
he said to Nel as she refilled his coffee. “Thank the Gods your little sister had not yet gone to bed.” Nel nodded politely and looked at Tali for help.

“You’re welcome, of course. But I am no little sister. She and I are the same age…identical twins, actually,” Tali said, speaking for Nel.

“Twins?” he repeated in surprise.

And no wonder, thought Tali, suddenly conscious of her own soggy appearance. We hardly look like mirror images at the moment. I must resemble a river rat instead.

She still wore her father’s worn clothes, now dripping, and her braid ran thick with river mud. Nel, on the other hand, looked like a prize in her peach nightdress and hand-painted fringed
shawl. Her sun-bleached hair seemed golden in the lantern light, her bronzed face still adorned with charcoal lining around her hazel eyes, her lips stained roseberry red for the party. She was a
vision of loveliness. But truth be told, Nel
always
looked lovelier, even when the girls dressed alike and wore their hair the same way. This had never made Tali jealous, as others often
suspected. While Tali knew some sisters competed mercilessly, it had never been their way; perhaps because she and Nel had been both mother and sister to each other for so long.

“What is your name?” the young man asked Nel, clearly smitten.

Again Nel looked at Tali.

“Her name is Nel,” Tali answered, “but she does not speak aloud. River fever took our mother—and Nel’s hearing—when we were four. She can read the words on
your mouth, though.”

“Oh, I’m sorry…” the young man began.

Nel turned to Tali and made a sign with her fingers.

“She asks your name,” Tali said.

The young man stood and faced Nel, offering his left hand, palm toward the sky, in the formal greeting of Tequende. “I am Paulo, firstborn of the Lake Chibcha Traders,” he said,
bowing slightly.

Nel placed her right palm on top of his and returned the bow. When they both lifted their heads, Nel’s warm smile seemed to cast a spell on Paulo.

Tali raised an eyebrow and grinned. Her twin frequently had this effect on young men, bedazzling them with her gentle manner and quiet beauty. If only they knew what you were truly thinking
beneath that innocent face, Tali often teased. She loved to hear Nel’s twinkly laugh in return, never begrudging her sister the constant trail of would-be suitors. Perhaps the arrival of
Paulo and his needy family was a blessing in its own way. At least they would provide a good distraction when Tali took her leave in a few short hours.

The moment was broken by one last groan of the burning tradeboat as the Magda River swallowed it whole. Tali loved the river, but right now it reminded her of a bloated black snake.

Paulo’s father stood at the railing, watching. Tali ached to see the despair in his eyes, the slump of his shoulders.

“How did the fire start?” she asked gently.

The tradesman hesitated and exchanged a look with Tali’s father. “It was an accident,” he replied.

“What kind of accident?” Tali continued, wrinkling her brow. While she had been in the river, she was so intent on reaching the crying child, she’d had no time to focus on the
boat itself. But now a picture of the burning vessel came to mind. “I saw things sticking out of the cabin roof, like arrows,” she said slowly. “It almost looked like you’d
been attacked.”

The tradesman looked worriedly at her father, while Paulo stared at his feet, his hands clenched into tight fists at his sides.

“That’s enough, Tali,” her father said. “No more questions. Our guests are tired.”

Tali bit the inside of her cheek and nodded. She turned toward Nel to exchange a silent word, but Nel’s concerned gaze rested on Larisa, who had started to cough.

“It looks as if you hosted a party here tonight,” said the mother, fingering a broken streamer that dangled from the rail.

“Indeed we did,” Tali’s father answered, his voice resuming its warmth. “Tali here rides for the Alcazar at first light.”

“To serve in the Second Guard?” Paulo asked.

“If I am so honored, yes,” Tali answered.

“So honored?” Paulo repeated, his eyes darkening. “To serve as one of the queen’s henchmen?”

“Silence, Paulo!” It was the tradesman’s turn to be stern.

“What do you mean by
henchmen
?” Tali asked, but her father cut her off just as Paulo’s had.

“I said enough. You must rest before your journey, Tali,” he said, ignoring her question. “Go on now.”

Tali gave a quick bow of departure and headed to her cabin to change. As she stood in the darkness, a chill crawled down her back like a frost spider. Her mind lingered over Paulo’s bitter
words. The queen’s henchmen? Nonsense. The Second Guard was the noblest army in the Nigh Worlds; everyone knew that. But Paulo’s father did know something more about the fire, she was
sure of it. For some reason, he seemed frightened of the truth. And whatever that truth was, it troubled her father as well.

I
ntiq finally lifted his head from the cloak of night. First along the edges of the world, then slowly in the bowl of the sky, a pale blue light
chased away the last bits of darkness. It seemed like days ago that Tali had lain awake in her bed while Nel and Mouser slept curled up across the cabin. After the fire and rescue, no one had even
attempted sleep, save the younger children. Tali’s father and Nel had said their good-byes at the stable in Girado while it was still quite dark.

As she followed the dirt road league after league, a jumble of questions vied for Tali’s attention. Why wouldn’t Paulo’s father tell the truth about the fire? What was the
truth? How would his family survive, now homeless and without means to provide for themselves? Where would they go? And why did Paulo speak so ill of the Second Guard? Even the silver gown of the
Moon Goddess lighting her path and the soft, rhythmic sound of hooves offered no peace.

Fortunately, the golden chestnut mare had been so well trained that she proved almost effortless to ride. Tali was grateful that her father had insisted on buying the horse in Girado, where the
best horse maestros in the realm kept their stables. As Intiq took command of the sky, the horse seemed to come alive, tossing her blond mane and tilting her head toward Intiq’s rays. Tali
smiled and leaned over to run a hand along the mare’s smooth neck. “Flirting, are you?”

Although Tali had taken riding lessons over the years, life on the boat had limited her time atop a horse. After an hour in the saddle, she already felt a creeping ache across her back and legs.
She would certainly need to improve her riding skills if she expected to earn a position in the Guard.

“But you’ll help me with that, won’t you, pretty girl?” she said, running her fingers lightly through the white-gold mane. The mare nickered in response, making Tali
laugh. “All right then, let’s get started and quicken the pace a bit.” She gave the horse a quick squeeze with her soft boots and the mare moved into an easy trot.

As the day lightened, the forested path gave way to highland farms, and Tali was amazed by the varieties of green that undulated across the landscape. Coffee plants with bright red berries lay
in rows to the right of the dirt track, while the leafy heads of potato crops ran up and down for leagues on her left. Behind the rolling fields, deep green mountains stood like sentries in the
distance. A half league to the east, a windmill turned lazily, easing itself into the new morning.

The scene reminded Tali of a painting she had seen in the markets of Porto Sol, and she slowed her horse to a stroll again to enjoy the quiet beauty. Surely no place in all the worlds, Far or
Nigh, could be more peaceful than Tequende. Last night’s fire had been a mere accident, she told herself. And Paulo’s harsh words about the Guard had been spoken in haste by an
exhausted young man. She would dwell on them no longer.

They passed a field of grazing alpacas, their long woolly hair nearly ready for harvest, and a fluffy white yearling followed them for several minutes, trotting alongside them like a playful
pup. The alpaca’s ears seemed to work separately from the rest of his face, popping up and down in random intervals, and the absurdity of his expressions made Tali laugh aloud.

When it became clear that the yearling seemed intent on following them for the entire journey, Tali sighed and pulled on the reins. “Come along,” she called, turning her horse
around. “Let’s go find Mama.”

Though it was time she could not well afford, Tali backtracked until she found the yearling’s mother at the edge of a wooden fence, bleating for her baby’s return. A young Earth
Guild girl, nearly lost inside a frayed, mud-colored poncho, ran forward and thanked Tali with a grin, displaying several missing teeth.