enemy, by refusals of the karavan-masters—had worn away his substance. He was not yetdesperate, but self-control was fraying. “I haven’t the means to wait a year. And the diviners have said the child should be born in Atalanda, if it is to be worthy of the gods’ protection. The journey will take time. We must go soon.”
She asked it because she had to. “Why did you come to me?”
He spread his palm and looked into it. “I wondered—I wondered if it was me. If something
in
me …” His voice trailed off as he lifted his head to look at her again, hand falling slack at his side. “I don’t know. I saw you, sweeping. Your motions …” He shrugged. “Your coloring is darker than hers, but, well, in motion, you reminded me of my wife.”
Ilona felt the coil of regret tightening in her belly. How she hated this! “I’m sorry. If Jorda has said there is no room, then there is no room.”
The man nodded. “I know.” He managed a faint, fleeting smile that left nothing of itself in his eyes. “I know.”
She watched him turn and walk away. A tall, wide, sturdy man. A man of substance, and certain to be judged worthy when it came his time to cross the river, for all he had no wealth. And like so many others in Sancorra province, he had lost everything to the Hecari.
Ilona shut her eyes. She could not change fates. She could only read them.
AUDRUN WENT IN search of and found her children inexplicably huddled behind a brown-dyed tent in the midst of the settlement. They gazed at her with identical wide blue eyes. It never failed to strike her how similar they were, despite dissimilarities in height and gender. Davyn was bearded now, and weathered, but she saw him again in the faces of his children. She wondered idly if the new baby would share Davyn’s coloring and thus that of its siblings, or, at long last, her own dark gold hair and brown eyes.
Smiling, she said, “Come back to the wagon.”
Kneeling by the tent, they were stiff as wooden dollswith jointed limbs. Megritte, eyes stretched wide, whispered loudly, “We saw a demon!”
“He killed that man,” Torvic added, fascination overriding his younger sister’s tone.
Audrun frowned and looked to her eldest for explanation. “What man?”
Ellica and Gillan were not prone to childish excesses like Torvic and Megritte, but they too looked stricken. “The man who came to the wagon,” Gillan explained faintly.
It stunned her. The man had not left her wagon all that long ago. “He’s
dead?
”
Torvic, clutching tent ropes knotted to thick wooden ground pegs, thrust out a pointing arm. “He went in there. He went in there with the demon.”
Skepticism made it difficult to maintain an even tone. “The demon went into the tent with another demon?” Audrun glanced briefly across the footpath, then before her children could answer she made up her mind to contain the tale before it grew lengthier and even less believable. “Never mind. We are going.” She caught her youngest daughter’s hand in one of hers and clasped the other over Torvic’s skull, swiveling it to aim him. “Move.
Now
.”
They knew that tone. They moved.
Megritte, seeming pleased to surrender her demon-watching responsibilities, asked, “Did Da find us a karavan?”
“I don’t know. Torvic, stop twisting! But if we don’t get back to the wagon someone may well steal it—Megritte, stand up on both feet; you’re too big for me to carry!—and then we’ll have no need to join a karavan at all.”
Her children continued to ask questions all the way back to the wagon, and Audrun continued to insist there were other far more interesting things to discuss in the world though she was not at that moment, in view of a dead man, murdered or no, certain she knew of any.
And then the wagon was there before them, and so was Davyn.
“Bless the Mother of Moons,” Audrun sighed, releasingher two youngest to run to their father. “And bless those who have more patience
She asked it because she had to. “Why did you come to me?”
He spread his palm and looked into it. “I wondered—I wondered if it was me. If something
in
me …” His voice trailed off as he lifted his head to look at her again, hand falling slack at his side. “I don’t know. I saw you, sweeping. Your motions …” He shrugged. “Your coloring is darker than hers, but, well, in motion, you reminded me of my wife.”
Ilona felt the coil of regret tightening in her belly. How she hated this! “I’m sorry. If Jorda has said there is no room, then there is no room.”
The man nodded. “I know.” He managed a faint, fleeting smile that left nothing of itself in his eyes. “I know.”
She watched him turn and walk away. A tall, wide, sturdy man. A man of substance, and certain to be judged worthy when it came his time to cross the river, for all he had no wealth. And like so many others in Sancorra province, he had lost everything to the Hecari.
Ilona shut her eyes. She could not change fates. She could only read them.
AUDRUN WENT IN search of and found her children inexplicably huddled behind a brown-dyed tent in the midst of the settlement. They gazed at her with identical wide blue eyes. It never failed to strike her how similar they were, despite dissimilarities in height and gender. Davyn was bearded now, and weathered, but she saw him again in the faces of his children. She wondered idly if the new baby would share Davyn’s coloring and thus that of its siblings, or, at long last, her own dark gold hair and brown eyes.
Smiling, she said, “Come back to the wagon.”
Kneeling by the tent, they were stiff as wooden dollswith jointed limbs. Megritte, eyes stretched wide, whispered loudly, “We saw a demon!”
“He killed that man,” Torvic added, fascination overriding his younger sister’s tone.
Audrun frowned and looked to her eldest for explanation. “What man?”
Ellica and Gillan were not prone to childish excesses like Torvic and Megritte, but they too looked stricken. “The man who came to the wagon,” Gillan explained faintly.
It stunned her. The man had not left her wagon all that long ago. “He’s
dead?
”
Torvic, clutching tent ropes knotted to thick wooden ground pegs, thrust out a pointing arm. “He went in there. He went in there with the demon.”
Skepticism made it difficult to maintain an even tone. “The demon went into the tent with another demon?” Audrun glanced briefly across the footpath, then before her children could answer she made up her mind to contain the tale before it grew lengthier and even less believable. “Never mind. We are going.” She caught her youngest daughter’s hand in one of hers and clasped the other over Torvic’s skull, swiveling it to aim him. “Move.
Now
.”
They knew that tone. They moved.
Megritte, seeming pleased to surrender her demon-watching responsibilities, asked, “Did Da find us a karavan?”
“I don’t know. Torvic, stop twisting! But if we don’t get back to the wagon someone may well steal it—Megritte, stand up on both feet; you’re too big for me to carry!—and then we’ll have no need to join a karavan at all.”
Her children continued to ask questions all the way back to the wagon, and Audrun continued to insist there were other far more interesting things to discuss in the world though she was not at that moment, in view of a dead man, murdered or no, certain she knew of any.
And then the wagon was there before them, and so was Davyn.
“Bless the Mother of Moons,” Audrun sighed, releasingher two youngest to run to their father. “And bless those who have more patience
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