“Or both of them,” he broke in, his voice bleak as an empty well.
“Killed Koijots.”
“Handy, too, that Glevs’s horse has come up lame, and the two belonging to Koijots and Upsakes have gone missing.”
“Oh, my Lady,” Reisil breathed. “But they must know you’ll suspect them!”
“Maybe. Koijots was a cadgey one. He might have pretended that he couldn’t see. Maybe he even suspected them.”
“He never said anything to you?”
Kebonsat shook his head. “But he was like you. He didn’t trust any one of us but me, and I think you.”
“Me?”
Kebonsat smiled at her surprise. “You found Ceriba with Saljane. Both you and your bird nearly died in the river. And you stood up to the others to do it. As I said, you are a remarkable woman and Koijots was no fool.”
Reisil blushed, trying to think of something to say to turn his attention away from her embarrassment. “He didn’t trust even Glevs? Even though you did? Hasn’t he been with you awhile?”
“Yes. I have always trusted Glevs without question.” Reisil read unfamiliar doubt and self-recrimination on his face. “His family has long supported House Vadonis. His grandfather died saving mine. I would have trusted him with my life. With Ceriba’s life. It is lucky I have not yet had the opportunity to tell him the information you confided to me the other night.”
“So what do we do now?”
“They’ll try to delay us more. That fight was likely a way to throw off the scent of collaboration, as well as to slow your search for the rest of us. I don’t like to think about what would have happened if you had stepped in to stop them—you wouldn’t have stood much of a chance, even with Saljane’s help.”
Reisil stared at him, dry-mouthed and wide-eyed. Certainly Upsakes didn’t like her. But Glevs had treated her with utmost thoughtfulness and courtesy. Would they really have tried to kill her? That Kebonsat believed it with granite certainty made her insides tremble.
She thought of Kaval. He had said he loved her, had defended her from the other children growing up. And yet look what he’d done to Ceriba. Why should she not believe that Upsakes and Glevs could be capable of murder? If Kebonsat spoke true, and she thought it likely, then they’d already killed once. It would have been nothing to add another body to their total.
She inhaled deeply, refusing to give in to the panic that swept through her. She’d been close to death three times now on this journey—in the river, on the bluff, and now with Glevs and Upsakes.
And there would be more.
This iwas what it meant to be
ahalad-kaaslane
. To confront evil in the Lady’s name. Just as tarks healed in Her name.
“So what do we do?” Her voice was low but steady. Kebonsat looked at her and on his face she read approval tinged with relief. She realized suddenly that he needed her to be strong, that his world had been tilted and shaken up and he felt no more on solid ground than she did. Instead of frightening her, the realization calmed her.
You are what you pretend to be. Be calm. Be confident.
“I’d like to get rid of them, but I don’t see how—not without proof. And we still don’t know about Sodur and Jurhnus. We must be very, very careful. Let’s hope we can speed our journey without springing any more booby traps.” And hope Ceriba would be alive when they got to her. He didn’t say it, but it hung between them all the same.
“I can’t believe Upsakes’s weirmart would let him . . .”
Reisil paused, remembering the little creature’s pitiful cries in the grass as the two men fought. And what could she do to stop him? She thought of the way Saljane could enter her mind, take it over at need like a steel trap snapping. But Reisil opened herself to Saljane, allowing it to happen, and she never lost control of her mind doing so. Maybe the Blessed Lady would intervene. In kidnapping Ceriba, Upsakes had renounced his duty to Her and to Kodu Riik. But maybe he didn’t see it that way.
She remembered Nurema’s caution. Kaval and Upsakes and Glevs—they might all think of themselves as patriots, saving their countries from evil. And if the job of the
ahalad-kaaslane
was to confront and defeat evil, was not Upsakes doing just that? At least in his own mind? He’d be obligated to, she remembered Leidiik telling her., Iif he believed the treaty was a horrible mistake for Kodu Riik.
And who was Reisil to say otherwise? He’d been
ahalad-kaaslane
far longer than she. He knew more, had seen more. Should she be helping him?
Reisil thought of Ceriba, the way her captor had kicked her, her sobs. No. The Blessed Lady could not countenance that. She would not have sent Saljane if She did not want Reisil to try to stop them.
Reisil met Kebonsat’s gaze squarely.
“We’ll have to watch our backs and get proof. In the meantime, we must not let them know of our suspicions. Can you do that?” he asked.
“What’s the choice? I will do what I have to,” Reisil replied, hearing something larger in her words. Would she do what she had to do? Even if it meant killing? Could she do such a thing?
Yes.
Her stomach twisted and heaved and she fought it back. Yes, because she was
ahalad-kaaslane
. Yes, because she was a tark and if she did not, if she hesitated in a crucial moment, then Mysane Kosk might happen again. Many people would die on both sides. She could not let that happen, not if it was in her power to prevent it.
“Ho! We heard the horn. Have you found the trail?” Upsakes called as he and Glevs mounted the hillside. Their bruises had begun to worsen. Reisil didn’t know how Upsakes could even see anymore, so swollen were his eyes. Just then Sodur and Juhrnus cantered up from the opposite direction.
“Trail goes straight into the mountains. Lucky that storm was all wind and flash. Not enough rain to wash away the tracks.”
“Lucky,” Juhrnus repeated.
Kebonsat shot him a look. “Very lucky.”
“Let’s see how far we can get then, shall we? Lume should be able to keep us on the right track,” Sodur said in his desultory way, which Reisil found calming. “We’ve got about three hours of light.” He surveyed the group. “We’ll double up. Juhrnus, you ride behind Reisiltark.”
Reisil started and looked askance, Juhrnus no less so. Sodur gave him a hard, warning look before turning to the others.
“Upsakes, you’re bigger than Glevs. Take Juhrnus’s horse. Glevs, up here behind me.”
The changes were quickly made, though both Upsakes and Glevs groaned pitifully as they struggled to mount. Juhrnus said nothing as he hooked his toe into the stirrup Reisil freed for him and swung up behind her. His chest was warm against her back, though she held herself stiffly apart. His sisalik rode on his shoulder, the thick, fleshy black tongue thrusting slowly in and out as he tasted the air.
They followed the tracks up into the mountains, and promptly lost them. Lume kept the scent, however, and they continued on in silence, the pace as fast as could be managed with the overloaded horses. At dusk they began a long, curving descent into the river canyon, far above Reisil’s campsite. Conversation turned quickly to the wizard night.
“Had to be the spell on the boat. Warned them we were following,” Upsakes insisted. “Or that tracker did it himself. Was one of the kidnappers.”
Reisil tensed, waiting for Kebonsat’s explosive response. But he didn’t hear. He was prowling the edges of the camp.
“I doubt that. He If he wanted to delay us, he wouldn’t have broken the logjam. More likely it was some sort of magical trip line. Precautionary,” Sodur said.
“Will they know we’ve triggered it?” Reisil wondered.
“It’s hard to say. By getting Ceriba out of Kallas at night with the gates closed, they’ll assume we spent our time searching the town thoroughly before turning our attention outside. As we would have, if Saljane hadn’t found her trail,” he said with a slight tip of his head toward Reisil. “With any luck, they’ll believe themselves safely away. My guess is that the wizard night was just an added safeguard. With any luck, the wizard who set it won’t want to be bothered with keeping track of it, especially since they shouldn’t be expecting pursuit so quickly.”
His logic seemed unimpeachable and the conversation turned to the trail ahead.
Soon after, Kebonsat set the watch, flicking a meaningful glance at Reisil. They could not afford to sleep through any of the others’ watches. Covertly they would have to maintain an extra watch of their own. Seeing his look, Reisil dipped her chin toward Saljane.
During the ride she and her
ahalad-kaaslane
had had a silent discussion about Kebonsat’s suspicions. Saljane had agreed that Upsakes might have participated in Ceriba’s kidnapping, surprising Reisil with her calm acceptance of the possibility.
~
You don’t think it’s unlikely that he might have done this?
Reisil pressed.
He is, after all,
ahalad-kaaslane.
~
He must do as he believes the Lady would wish. He must protect Kodu Riik and all Her people
.
×~
But if She disagreed, wouldn’t She stop him?
~
The Lady does what is best. And we are here.
×~
But this will lead us to war again. This will kill many, many people in Kodu Riik and Patverseme both
!
~
Then we must stop him
.
~
How can he think this is right
?
Even in her mind Reisil wailed the question like a child who had been betrayed. All her life the
ahaladkaaslane
had represented justice and right in Kodu Riik. Their presence meant evil could not hide, and the weak and powerless would be safe. Saljane’s answer, though correct, gave her no real satisfaction.
~
He must believe or he would do otherwise.
.
Now, as the fire flickered and popped, Saljane blinked her shining amber eyes at Reisil.
~
I will watch. I have rested much and will sleep tomorrow.
Exhaustion embraced Reisil and she fell into a heavy sleep, as Kebonsat rolled out his blankets near hers.
Juhrnus wakened her the next morning and she sat up groggily, her eyes dry and scratchy. He was curiously restrained, saying no more than a word or two to her. He saddled the dun gelding in the shadowy predawn and loaded up her saddle packs. Reisil quickly ate her breakfast of stale bread and cold fish, washing the dusty, dry crumbs down with cold river water.
~
Did anything happen last night?
she asked Saljane.
~
They snored,
the bird replied, with an image of Upsakes and Glevs. Reisil smiled around her food. They
would
snore, one with a broken nose and the other with all that swelling. She’d straightened Glevs’s nose, but could do little else for it. Kebonsat and Sodur had frowned on her trying to ameliorate the swelling or pain. So long as the other two could function, they deserved the consequences of their nonsense. Was it the
ahaladkaaslane
coming out in her that she heartily agreed? Reisil wondered. But it was more than that. Their pain might help make the two men off balance, distract them from any plots they might be hatching.
~
And when they watched?
~
Nothing. Stirred the fire. Walked in circles. No threat.
~
What about Juhrnus and Sodur?
Those two had taken the last two watches, leaving Reisil to sleep through the night. She still had a great deal of healing to do, Sodur told her. And sleep was the best cure.
~
Stirred the fire. Walked in circles.
.
The wounds on Reisil’s ribs felt remarkably better this morning, and the gouges on her face had closed so well that she no longer felt the need to go bandaged, though she slathered her healing ointment over them liberally. Kebonsat and Sodur both smiled encouragingly at her, though both were taken aback by the livid scars spreading like winter-stripped willows over her cheek and jaw and down to disappear into her collar.
Juhrnus treated her no differently and somehow Reisil felt better for that. He didn’t like her, true, but to him, she remained who she was, no need for pity. Kebonsat had said that the scars would not mar her kind of beauty, but that was before he’d seen them.
They set out again, following the trail that now ran parallel to the river, following the sinuous twists as the canyon gave way to a steep-sided gorge. The grasses made a whithying sound as they brushed through them, sending up tangy green scents of summer.
Saljane gave her
kek-kek-kek-kek
cry, raising her wings so that Reisil had to lean out of the way. She bumped Juhrnus’s chest and he put his hands on her shoulders to steady her.
~
Stop that!
~
Feel good. Fly?
~
Not yet. This evening, and only for a short while.
They had decided the wizard night had lasted two days, which meant Saljane should be healed enough to try flying. Saljane subsided and Reisil could feel her impatience, almost sulking, if a goshawk could be capable of such a human emotion. But Saljane remained quiescent the rest of the day. Reisil didn’t look forward to the goshawk’s flight. Just the thought of that dizzying height made Reisil’s gorge rise. She swallowed and breathed deeply, trying to relax, doing her best to keep her reaction well hidden from her
ahalad-kaaslane
. She remembered that first day, asking if Saljane could read her thoughts. Maybe someday it would happen, but for now she was glad to be able to keep a few secrets.
They paused for only a few minutes at the noon hour to stretch and relieve themselves while giving the animals a chance to snatch a few mouthfuls of the lush grass. The way grew steeper shortly after, and Reisil’s dun and Sodur’s sorrel began to show signs of strain, slowing their pace even more. Kebonsat took Glevs on his horse and Upsakes took Juhrnus on his, increasing their speed for the moment. But Reisil knew it couldn’t last. Something would have to be done.