Текст книги "Dragonfly"
Автор книги: Julia Golding
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Текущая страница: 14 (всего у книги 21 страниц)
Chapter 14
Early the next morning, the travellers arrived at the crossing point into Kandar. Melletin advised
that this was the best time: the soldiers would be tired and hungry after a night's watch, not
wanting to stand about in the grey morning questioning strangers. To add further to the
distraction, Yelena wore her skirts tucked over her knee and carried a pannier of bread
purchased from the inn's kitchens, her job to engage the men in flirtatious conversation while
her "husband" looked on resentfully.
Ramil, Tashi, Gordoc, and Professor Norling crossed the bridge without incident, leaving Melletin
and Yelena to their noisy argument in front of the fascinated guards. Hearing a bird call beneath
her, Tashi looked over the parapet to see a white gull fishing in the river. The waters rushed
beneath the stone arches seeming to drag the bridge with them as they hurried on to the ocean.
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The River Kand was deep, swift, and strong here. She
remembered from her geography lessons on
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Rama that it flowed out of the heart of Kandar, from a land of hills and forests. Wild animals
abounded in this difficult terrain–wolves, bears, and great shaggy bison making their home in
the densely wooded interior. The Inkar's people were not so flourishing. They lived a marginal
existence: the nobles clinging to their castles on the crags, the peasants scratching what crops
could be coaxed from the reluctant soil, fearful of the forests at their door. Only the flood plains
to the east with their rich alluvial deposits offered any hope to the farmer, but these lands had
been sequestered by the Inkar and turned into slave plantations, displacing the original
inhabitants.
"It's a sad place now," said Professor Norling to Tashi as they passed through the first sorry-looking settlement, children in inadequate clothes running along at their stirrups to beg. He
threw them some coppers. "The Inkar's grasp of land management and social rights is weak to
say the least.
She's running a poor land into destitution, battening a huge army upon it like a parasite upon a
frail host."
On hearing the jingle of harness behind them, they turned. Melletin and Yelena were fast
catching up, both grinning broadly.
"How did it go?" Ramil called.
"Would you believe it: he threatened to lock me up in his mother's house if I didn't behave!"
exclaimed Yelena, sticking her tongue out at Melletin. "I threw a roll at him and he clipped me
around the ear. The soldiers were all about to beat him up when I burst into tears and begged
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his forgiveness. We had a passionate
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reconciliation and went on our way with their good wishes for our marital harmony."
Melletin rubbed his lips. "Where's the next checkpoint, Yelena? I can't wait to do that again."
"Watch it, sir: I'll report you," Yelena threatened, but she looked very pleased all the same.
Melletin estimated that it would take them at least a week to cross Kandar.
They rose early each day to make the most of the short winter daylight, taking the road that cut
through the thick forest. Riding was uncomfortable as they trudged in sleety showers and gritted
their teeth against the cold winds.
There were few people on the road, apart from convoys of soldiers.
Whenever these were spotted, the travellers left the highway and sheltered in the trees until
they had passed. Ramil was thankful they had a guide who knew the country so well. Melletin
seemed to have a sixth sense for anticipating trouble and unerringly led them to shelter at the
end of each day.
None of them fancied spending a freezing night outside with the wolves and roving soldiers for
company.
Five days into their journey, Mel etin cal ed a halt on a ridge looking down upon a forest valley.
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Outcrops of rock reared above trees like islands in a green ocean.
"We've reached the wild zone," he explained.
"You mean what we've passed through wasn't the wild zone?" Tashi asked.
The forest pressing on either side of the road had looked very savage to her.
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"I mean the ungoverned part–the resort of bandits and other desperate folk.
Some of them are friendly to the resistance, but some, I regret to say, are friendly to no one."
"And how will we find out?" Ramil asked. "Before or after they've attacked us?"
"There's a secret sign. If they approach us, we'll find out soon enough if they recognize it. Look to your weapons and keep alert. I would bet my sword on someone waylaying us before the end
of the day: we are too tempting a target to be neglected."
Before mounting again, Tashi collected a pouch full of stones and prepared a sling. She stayed
close to Gordoc as the horses took to the road.
"Don't worry, my pretty, I'll make sure no bandit touches you," he said cheerfully.
They trotted on for hours, seeing no sign of man or beast. By noon they had entered a
particularly dark, dense region of the forest. Ramil watched the trees nervously. The road
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surface was broken up, tree roots creating havoc with the stones that had once been set smooth
in the ground. Ramil decided that if he was commanding a band of robbers, he would think this
an excellent place for an ambush because the riders would have to mind where they were going
and be unable to keep a constant watch.
As if obeying Ramil's thoughts, a man dropped out of the trees ahead of Melletin and held up a
hand. He had a coarse lined face with a rough black beard and moustache; his clothes were
ragged and patched.
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"Good people, you have neglected to pay the toll!" he called.
Six more men dropped from the trees around them and three emerged from the bushes at the
rear. One threw the leader a stout staff, which he caught and held out, blocking the way
forward.
Melletin raised his fist to his chest, fingers circled in an O.
"We are friends, sir, and only wish to pass in peace."
The man took no notice of the sign. Ramil's hand moved to his sword.
"There is no peace to be had in Kandar. You must pay the toll."
Melletin dropped his hand casually to rest on his hilt. "And what may that be?"
The bandit scratched his chin, looking the party over. "Your horses, goods, and weapons." He 260
caught sight of Yelena. "And perhaps the girl too."
Yekna gave a disgusted snort. "Just you try," she muttered.
"If you want that much, then you'll have to fight us for them," said Melletin, swiftly drawing his sword.
The bandit leader raised his staff to meet the blow. A man swung from the trees to knock
Melletin from the saddle. Like a squall blowing up out of nowhere, the skirmish became intense
and confused: swords meeting staffs, men swarming from the trees. Gordoc and Yelena flanked
the Princess in the rear while Ramil and Melletin took on the main attack. Tashi felled one man
with a slingshot as he was about to stab Melletin
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in the back. One bandit already lay in the dust, killed by a kick from Thunder.
"Keep away from the horses!" yelled the leader, realizing too late that these were trained for combat.
Professor Norling had drawn a cane from his waistband and was belaboring a bandit around the
head as he tried to make off with the baggage horse.
"Not my instruments!" he shouted in outrage.
Tashi didn't see what happened to him next because Gordoc barged in front of her, cutting off
an attack by three staff-wielding men. She heard a shriek from behind and turned to find Yelena
being pulled from the saddle by two assailants. One Tashi struck with a stone but she had no
time for a second as a man dropped from the trees, knocking her to the ground with him on top
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of her.
"Let's see what we've got under here!" He reached for her veil and pulled it off. "Another pretty wench!"
He got no further–a foot kicked him in the jaw, catapulting him backwards.
Yelena stood over Tashi, crouching in combat stance, her own attacker a crumpled heap on the
road. Tashi scrambled to her feet and positioned herself behind Yelena, swinging her sling,
searching for the next mark.
Ramil was fighting two men–one fell to a stone, the other he ran through with an efficient
swipe.
"Retreat! Retreat!" shouted the leader.
The bandits who could still walk stumbled off into the trees, dragging their wounded with them.
That left four on the ground: one killed by Thunder, one by Ramil, and two crushed by Gordoc's
bare hands.
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Ramil limped over to the girls, sword still bloody.
"Are you all right?" he asked anxiously, stabbing his blade into the ground so he could hug Tashi.
"Yes, thank you, sir," Yelena said with a grin. "Thank you for being so concerned about me."
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She did not stand uncared for long as Melletin was soon at her side asking the same question.
Professor Norl-ing and Gordoc swiftly caught the horses and brought them to the girls.
"We'd better get going before they come back," said Melletin. He grimaced at the bodies lying in the road. "What a waste–half-starved, desperate, now dead. The Inkar has a lot to answer for to
her people."
They reached the border between Kandar and Holt three days later. All were heartily sick of
forests and looked forward to the open plains of Fergox's land, though they knew they would
soon miss the cover the trees had provided. Melletin showed Tashi and Ramil a map, rolling it
out on a log at their final stopping place before the checkpoint.
"Tigral is way down to the southwest," he said, pointing to the capital on the shores of the Inland Sea. "We have a choice, risk going straight for it–it is the most direct route but it's also the most dangerous. The lands between are rich. There are plantations, vineyards, big towns and cities: in
short, lots of people on the road. If we go south we can skirt round to the sea by the desert
region, not going into the sand zone, but
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keeping to the edge. It's a longer, tougher road but perhaps safer."
"Longer, tougher, and safer sounds good to me," said Ramil.
"But we don't have the time to go so far out of our way," argued Tashi.
"We'll have even less time if we end up in one of Fergox's prisons," Ramil countered.
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"But what good is my country's aid if it arrives too late? It's already February and we still have weeks of travelling ahead of us. The thaw will come in late March or April and it will take my
navy at least a month to sail to Gerfal."
"You speak, Tashi, as if Gerfal will not last beyond that time. We will put up a stiff fight if I know my father. I would not expect the battle to be over in a few weeks–we might even last the
summer."
"And then there's the resistance harassing Fergox from the rear–he'll be made to regret he's
stretched his supply lines so far," added Melletin.
"So you both favor the longer route," Tashi said, her arms folded across her chest.
"Yes, I do," said Melletin, rolling up the map.
"I do too, Your Highness," seconded Ramil, his hands on his hips.
But would it give them enough time? Tashi fretted. She closed her eyes for a moment, seeking
wisdom in a silent prayer. Their mission was in the Goddess's hands. If She wanted them to
succeed, the Mother would make it happen by Her own means.
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"I will follow your advice unless we see a clear sign that we have chosen ill,"
she said. "Then all I ask is that you be open to a change of plan."
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"Of course," said Ramil, rather pleased to have won this first battle of wills.
"I'm open to any suggestion of yours."
Tashi pelted him with a twig. "Don't: you sound like Merl when you talk like that."
Ramil put his hand over his mouth, feigning horror. "I will not speak another word."
"Good." Tashi smiled.
Melletin proposed that they reorganize their party so that they no longer resembled the same
group that passed the border a week ago.
"In case the alarm has been raised since and they are on the lookout for us,"
he explained.
He suggested they fall into pairs: the girls together, posing as two servants off to find work;
Ramil and the professor on their errand to the south; he and Gordoc as slave overseers, heading
to the plantations around the shores of the Inland Sea.
"We'll stick close together, but make no sign we are acquainted. The girls should go ahead so
that they get through first. We'll follow close behind to be there for any trouble."
"Don't worry, my dears," said the professor gallantly, "I'll rescue you from any difficulties."
Yelena laughed and kissed the old man on the cheek. "Of course you will. I don't know why we
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bother with these other men, do you, Tashi?"
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"But they are decorative, aren't they?" the Princess replied archly. It was fun to have a girl with whom she could gang up against the boys–she'd never had a friend like that before. "They give
us something to look at on the boring stretches of the road." She let her eyes linger on Ramil,
who appeared very warm all of a sudden.
Yelena swung herself into the saddle. "My, my, Princess, I didn't know you could flirt."
"I'm learning from a master–or should I say mistress–of that art," Tashi said with a bow.
The girls trotted off, their joking tone replaced by seriousness once they were out of sight and
had rejoined the road.
"Do I look all right?" Tashi asked, touching her hair nervously. She felt exposed after the days spent looking at the world from behind a veil.
"I suppose you don't mean 'How do I look in this?' You're wondering if they'll recognize you. No, sister, they won't think you're a princess, not dressed like a peasant and with hair that cries out
your Brigardian ancestry."
"Good. So will they let us through?" Tashi checked she still had her new set of forged documents safe in her saddlebags.
"Let me do the talking and be prepared to bat your eyelashes at them. I don't think they'll see us as a threat–light relief maybe from their boredom, but not a threat. You can be thankful that
men always underestimate us women."
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The two girls arrived at the checkpoint and joined
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the queue moving slowly forward. There were plenty of other refugees from Kandar, all hoping
for a better life in the big cities of Holt.
The border guard peered out from his box at Yelena and Tashi when they reached the front of
their line. He brightened up and smoothed his moustache.
"Well, ladies, what brings you here?" he asked, unrolling their documents.
"Off to Tigral, sir," Yelena said, bathing him in the full glow of her widest smile. "We hear there's work to be had for a pair of willing girls in the big houses."
"I'm sure you'll have no difficulty finding a place," he said, stamping their papers with a flourish.
"But you'd best find some company for the road." He leant forward and said conspiratorially,
"All sorts of bad types on the move–
soldiers, slavers, and now there's a rumor there's a witch of some sort on the loose."
"Save us, sir!" Tashi gasped, touching her forehead in the sign she had so often seen in her vicinity. "I hope we don't run into her!"
"So do I, my dears, so do I. Travel well!"
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Keeping a straight face, the two girls prodded their horses forward. Yelena allowed herself to
laugh only when they had ridden through the border village. She then aped Tashi's expression of
horror. "Oh, save us, sir, save us!" she said in a high voice. "You should have joined the players, Tashi; you're a natural."
The girls found a secluded corner not far off the road and passed the time practicing the combat
techniques Yelena had been teaching Tashi over the past week.
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The men seemed to be taking a long time to catch up. The girls were just beginning to get
anxious when they heard the sounds of heavy horses. They ran to the edge of the road and
waved down their friends. Professor Norling was in a high dudgeon, his protests already vocal
before he reached them.
"They strip-searched me!" he burst out. "Me! Old enough to be their grandfather and they made me stand naked in the road, my things all unpacked in the mud!"
"They were only doing their job," said Ramil wearily. He had evidently had much of this
complaint to endure since leaving the border. "They're looking for enemies– you must admit
they had a point."
"Point! To make the four of us–and those other men–stand in our birthday suits for all to see!"
"Shame we rode on so quickly," Yelena murmured to Tashi.
"I trust they did not subject you to the same indignity?" Ramil asked the girls delicately.
"No, the guard was most helpful. Told us to beware of bad sorts on the road and waved us on
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our way," Tashi replied.
"I'm pleased for your sake, my dears," said Professor Norling, "though I still think it very unfair."
"Very stupid, you mean," Melletin muttered to Ramil. "I mean, who would you prefer to
search?"
Ramil did not have to think very long about his answer.
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Riding through eastern Holt, Tashi was surprised to find it a beautiful country. Having met
Fergox, she had expected it to reflect his character: harsh, warlike, and uncompromising, but
instead it was a gentle landscape of meadows just awakening to the early southern spring; flocks
of sheep and goats out to pasture, well tended vines and olive trees. The villages looked
prosperous: houses with terracotta roofs and white-washed walls nestled together around the
village temple. But there were jarring notes: at many crossroads they came across the bodies of
Fergox's enemies, hanging in chains from scaffolds; the temples in the villages were decked in
red war banners and the steps sprinkled with blood from recent sacrifices. Despite this, Tashi
could not rid herself of the impression that Fergox's influence did not run deep, that if he was no
longer in power, the people of this land would not find it difficult to return to a more peaceful
existence.
She expressed this view to Professor Norling, who was riding with them until the road divided,
one branch to Tigral, another continuing to the desert regions.
"Yes, my dear, eastern Holt has a rich culture of its own–not at all warlike.
Fergox has his power base in the harsher mountainous west. His own people come from there.
They are a seafaring nation, making up for what the land lacks with raids on more fortunate
countries. But I'm sure you are very familiar with them because they form his pirate fleet. I
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would advise you to steer clear, if you can, on your journey home."
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They passed a line of workers preparing the soil for sowing.
"But look there, child," Norling said, pointing with his cane. "That reminds us that the beauty of this land is founded on rottenness. The fields are tilled by slave-labor, the mines worked by
these same poor captives; even the poorest houses of the freeborn have their little slave to
cook, clean, and mind the children."
Tashi looked back at the workers and noticed that they each wore an iron collar.
"How can the people bear it?" she asked.
"The slaves, of course, have no choice. Most are taken from lands subject to Fergox, inferiors in the eyes of the Holtish people. As for the inhabitants, those that have a conscience about such
things claim slaves are well looked after, part of the extended family. They predict the collapse
of the Holtish economy if the slaves were liberated. Most owners don't worry too much about
excuses–they just count the benefit to themselves."
"Well, I think it an abomination," she said angrily.
"And so do I." He fixed her with an acute look, reminding her that beneath his genial exterior was a razor-sharp mind. "And maybe you can do something to change it if you help defeat the
warlord."
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Chapter 15
They bade farewell to Professor Norling where the road divided, seeing him safely attached to a
party of pilgrims heading for the Great Temple of the Warmonger in Tigral. Three days later, as
they travelled down the road to the south, Flake cast a shoe. Now far beyond Melletin's
knowledge of the land, the five travellers debated whether to turn back to the last village or ride
on in hopes of finding another forge.
"I'd hate to retrace any step of this weary road," Melletin said. "I could ride ahead with Flake and find a smith if Tashi would not mind riding pillion with one of you."
"She is welcome to ride with me," Ramil said quickly. "We've shared a saddle before."
Yelena grinned at Tashi as the Princess mounted in front of Ramil.
"Hey, Melletin!" Yelena said, a twinkle in her eye. "How about having some company on your errand? We don't know what lies ahead and you could do with some backup if there's trouble."
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"Good thinking," replied Melletin, oblivious to the girl's hidden agenda. "Big man, would you come?"
"No, I . . . " Gordoc began, then caught Yelena's eye. "I mean, yes, I'll watch your back for you."
Melletin, Gordoc, and Yelena rode off quickly with Flake trotting riderless in tow.
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"Did she do that on purpose?" Ramil asked Tashi as he saw Yelena give them a final jaunty wave.
"I think so," Tashi admitted. She leant back against him, conscious that they hadn't sat this close since they had begun to understand each other's feelings. They rode on in happy silence, taking
delight in the opportunity to be together. It gave Ramil the chance to build up his courage for
what he had wanted to say for some time.
"Tashi, you know I love you, don't you?" he said sofly in her ear.
She smiled: trust the son of a Horse Follower to woo in the saddle.
"I thought we were already betrothed."
"You broke it off, remember." He kissed the top of her head.
"Oh yes, I suppose I did. I'm sorry about that."
"I didn't deserve you. I don't deserve you now."
"Well, as long as you know that." She turned and gave him a mischievous smile.
He traced the line of her lips with his forefinger.
She felt in her pocket and pulled out two tiny paper models. "I've kept them safe. You'd better
have this one back." She gave him the dragonfly. "I improved it a little
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when your attempt unfolded, but I haven't touched the horse: I like it just as it is."
"I promise to take care of it."
"And I'll take care of yours." She settled back against him, the paper horse held carefully in her hand.
Ramil smiled down at the copper head beneath his chin, knowing that he never wanted to be
apart from her again.
That night the travellers decided to camp under the stars. They were approaching the warmer
climes of the desert and no longer needed a roof over their heads at night. Added to this,
Melletin reported that the village inn was hosting a party of slavers from the south, their
captives shackled in the barn, and no one wanted to come to their attention. They rode through
the village with their heads down.
Finding a likely camping spot in a bend in the river, Yelena an d Tashi went off to bathe, leaving
the men to make the fire. The horses strayed on the bank, picketed in reach of the water.
"So, Ram," said Gordoc, skewering some goat's meat on a stick to roast, "do I have to thump you?"
Ram shook his head. "Only very gently. A light pummelling. Or you could congratulate me: our
marriage alliance is back on."
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Melletin clapped him on the shoulder. "Lucky man."
Gordoc assumed a stern, fatherly expression. "And, young Prince, what are your prospects? Can
you keep
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my girl in the manner to which she has become accustomed?"
Ramil laughed. "I hope I can do much better than that. So far, all she has known with me is
prison cells and tents. As for my prospects, touch and go at best, but I don't think she minds."
"Yes, and it's not every girl who comes with a navy attached," added Melletin.
"Or so we hope," said Ramil, placing the skewer he had prepared for Tashi over the flames.
They fell silent, listening to the delighted shrieks and laughter of the girls splashing in the water
downstream. Melletin had a thoughtful expression at all this talk of marriage.
Suddenly, Gordoc nudged Ramil. "Look sharp, Ram, we've got company."
The three friends reached for their weapons and turned to face the road. A cart drew up, driven
by a dark-skinned man wearing the loose robes of the south. Eight others of all nations jumped
out of the back; the only thing they had in common was that they were heavily armed.
"Here they are!" called the man. "I told you I saw them ride this way."
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The newcomers swarmed down the bank, making straight for the fire. Ramil stepped forward.
"Peace, friends," he said. "How may we help you?"
The cart driver returned the gesture. "If you would like to put down that shiny blade of yours
and come with us, that would be a start."
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"The start of what?" Ramil held the sword in guard position, shifting his weight, ready for an attack.
There was another round of laughter from the river. The stranger nodded to three of his men.
"That's the girls. Go get them."
"No!" shouted Melletin and Ramil together, springing forward to block the path, but the other men were upon them, forcing them back with spears and swords.
"Tashi, Yelena, run!" boomed Gordoc. He lashed out with his fists at the men dancing around
him using whips and chains to hamper him.
Frightened, the horses pulled on their pickets, scattering from the flailing swords.
Ramil cursed. The slaver had planned this well. He let his men engage the three travellers in
battle but only so as to keep them from going to the assistance of the girls. He must have
gauged their strengths earlier and knew he would lose fighters if they went to disarm the giant
and his two companions.
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Bursting with fury, Ramil fought, desperate to reach Tashi. Every time he tried to break through,
a man would attack from behind, forcing him to turn and defend himself. Once he had the
advantage over that assailant, another would step in, starting the fight all over again. These
were no novice soldiers like those at Nerul's camp; these were hardened overseers, disciplined
and used to controlling those who were stronger than them. He gritted his teeth and fought on.
He had to reach her, he had to.
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On the riverbank, Tashi had just finished dressing when she heard Gordoc's shout. Nearer to the
camp, Yelena was bent double, tying her shoes.
Immediately, the warrior-girl sprang up, casting round for something to use as a weapon, but
three men burst out of the trees and knocked her flat before she had a chance.
"Run!" Yelena screamed, fighting like a wild cat with the man who grappled for her arms.
Terrified, Tashi fled. The river was swifter here, channelled between two high banks. Water
foamed around rocks. She had nowhere to go but along the river's edge, crashing through
bushes, stumbling over stones, her breath tearing at her lungs in harsh gasps. Feet pounded
behind her. Men cursed as the brambles snatched at their hands and legs, but Tashi was
unaware of the scratches. The ground rose under her feet; she ran up the incline and emerged
into the open, finding herself right on the very edge of a curving river bluff. The brown water
flowed rapidly some ten feet below. Her two pursuers divided to approach her from either side,
like dogs rounding up a stubborn sheep. The biggest one, who had a shock of matted black hair
and a gap-toothed grin, held out his hand and beckoned her.
"That's right, sweetheart. Nowhere to run now. Come along and you'll not get hurt. We don't
mark the pretty ones, do we, Garth?"
"No, Mol, we don't. Treat them fine, we do." The
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smaller man, no more than a boy really, slipped a rope from his belt and made a loop.
Tashi took a step closer to the edge. They stopped moving.
"That'll do you no good, girl. The river'll mash you up and spit you out drowned dead," Mol said.
"But with us, we'll find you a nice kind master who'll look after you. You'll live very comfortably–
better than most."
Tashi called silently on the Goddess. I can't get taken now – I'll never reach my people in time to
save Gerfal, she pleaded.
Then don't get taken, came the answer.
There was no choice. She knew what she had to do, but she wasn't sure if her faith was strong
enough to believe she could.
"As the Goddess wills," Tashi muttered, knowing there was only one way to find out.
She slowly raised her hands. The men relaxed, thinking she was about to come to them.
"All right, I surrender," she whispered. "I'm sorry, Ram."
Giving up her life to the Mother, Tashi turned and jumped. She heard a snatch of a cry behind
her, but then she plunged into the water and went down, whirled away on the current.
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Ramil fought on until he saw Yelena hustled into the camp, a knife at her throat. Her attacker
had a black
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eye, but he'd managed to rope her wrists. The leader of the slaving party whistled and the other
men fell back.
"Now, my friends, you have a choice. If you fight on, I'll have to kill this girl.
Surrender your weapons and we'll treat you all fairly."
Melletin was the first to drop his sword. Ramil followed and Gordoc let his hands fall to his sides.
"Excellent. A slave that sees reason is worth his weight in gold." The leader turned to the man still holding Yelena. "Where are the others?"
"Gone after the other one."
"You two, round up the horses. Kinto, shackle our newest acquisitions."
Ramil watched the path from the river with sick apprehension. He barely noticed the iron collar
being bolted to his neck and manacles clamped to his wrists.
Finally, two men emerged from the bushes. They were alone.
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"Where is she?" barked the leader.
"She jumped," Mol said with a shrug. "Straight into the river and never came up again. Rather die than be a slave, even though I told her we'd treat her nice."
Ramil felt something snap inside him. It was as if all the strength had gone from his body. He
collapsed to his knees, empty.
The southerner sighed with regret. "Well, you can't catch them all. Never mind. Let's get these
back to the barn. We deserve a drink. I'm paying!"
The slavers cheered and herded their captives onto the cart. Five horses followed in a string.
Thunder had
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not been caught; last seen streaking away to the south, sparks flying from his hooves on the
flinty ground.
No one dared say anything to Ramil. Gordoc was moaning softly to himself, clenching and
unclenching his hands. Melletin hugged Yelena, who was weeping on his shoulder.
Disaster had come upon them so quickly. One moment he had been joking about the future and
cooking Tashi's supper, the next he was a slave and she was . . . Ramil could only think of what
