Part 22 (1/2)

It was the wolf again.

She tried to blank her mind.

She was pa.s.sing Ed Proving's wagon when the line of palt feathers fluttering against the footbox caught her attention, and she reined in. Proving glanced at her, belched softly, pressed a hand to his stomach and closed his eyes for a moment, then gave his driver a nod. One For Brandy quietly handed over the reins and disappeared into the wagon.

Nori didn't speak for a few minutes. Without looking at him, she finally said, ”You have good eyes, Ed Proving Trail. Did you use them last night when you were up?”

Proving raised a scraggly eyebrow, then sloshed his flask. ”My sight's not so good by the end of the day.”

She slanted him a look. ”You don't sleep so well, either, but your ears are better than ever.”

He gave her a sharp glance, then looked away. His voice was flat. ”You know.”

She shrugged. ”My mother . . .” She let the word trail off.

He nodded shortly. Raised with a master healer and as a vet herself, Black Wolf would know enough to recognize the signs. He struggled with his humiliation. Bad enough folks thought him a drunk. Now he'd be pitied for the pain, for the splitting headaches the slightest sound caused, for dying like the withering husk of a weakening man who doesn't know how to let go. A palt flew out of the tree line, and almost viciously he jammed the reins in the wood grip, raised his bow, and shot. The arrow flew true, and the bird tumbled suddenly, then plunged over the barrier bushes.

Nori politely didn't look at him till he set the bow back in its holder and picked up the reins again. He looked at her grimly. His eyes were already slightly bloodshot, the skin around them tight as he tried to hang on to some shard of pride. She said quietly, ”A healer's silence is a patient's right.”

”You're not a healer.”

She gave him a lopsided grin. ”Animals, humans, what's the difference?”

He regarded her for a long moment. Then he snorted. ”To you, perhaps none,” he agreed. He stared down the road. Finally, he said, ”Aye, I was up. You'd left already with that brother of yours, probably to see that young wolf who's been hanging around.”

Nori winced.

He said dryly, ”It's not me to worry about, Black Wolf. But I'd be more careful next time I go out after dark. Someone was watching your wagon.”

To get at the scout book? She'd taken it with her, and her hand itched to check its pouch. Her voice was carefully expressionless. ”Did you see who it was?”

He smiled without humor. ”It was the end of the day, Black Wolf. My eyes . . .” He shrugged, took a small sip, belched, and tried not to reach for more. Take too much in the morning, and he'd not be able to keep the rest down in the evening to make it through the night. He kept his voice steady as he added, ”Whoever it was stayed smart. Disappeared before that uncle of yours got up and took his walk-by.

Didn't slip back into place till after.”

Nori nodded. Wakje often got up and walked the camp in the middle of the night. She wondered sometimes if his dreams were as bad as hers. ”The watcher, he was over by Rezuku's wagon?”

But Proving shook his head. ”He was eight wagons down from yours in my direction. And he was relieved by another man at the second watch, and by a woman just before dawn.” He caught the determination in her violet eyes. ”I wouldn't go looking for them, Black Wolf, not without a pa.s.sel of armed folk at my back. They all moved like your uncles, sure and quiet.”

”But you heard them.”

He chuckled without humor. ”I heard the rasp of their leathers every time they moved.”

And every snore, rustle, and murmur around him. No wonder the man couldn't sleep. But she said only ”My thanks” as she rode forward again.

Kettre was waiting with the message master. Nori shook her head almost imperceptibly as she greeted the old woman casually.

”Eight messages, prepaid,” the message master told her, handing over a bundle of message rings and a thin roll of paper. ”Your duty.”

Nori glanced at the three carved and painted sticks, then slid them into her pouch. Regardless of shape, the wooden messages were all called message rings. They weren't the most efficient way to communicate, but they were one of the most personal. The emotion and style of the carver went directly into the wood, the messages couldn't be accidentally changed in travel without the damage showing.

They'd been used since the sixth century for almost all formal agreements between merchants, Houses, guilds, and counties. They were like promises, she thought. Or like code. The nuances, implications and even hidden messages in the carvings were often invisible to any but the person who would receive them.

She checked the five paper slips, then rerolled them and slid them into their tube. Then she met the message master's pale eyes and said softly and deliberately, ”Nine messages, my duty.”

The old woman opened her mouth to correct her, then halted. ”Nine messages, aye.” She squinted at Nori. ”I can't quite remember who brought in that last one, though.”

”Ah, it came in with a ring-runner last night. Not the usual rider.”

”Of course.” The thin woman made a note in her tally book. ”I don't know what's getting into my brain these days. Bad tallies, messages astray.” She shook her head.

Kettre asked in a low voice, ”Did you ever find those missing rings?”

Nori gave her friend a sharp look, and the old cozar gazed at both of them for a moment. ”Not a hair of them,” she finally answered, equally softly. Twochovas trotted toward the wagon, and the message master said more loudly in a sour voice, ”That idiot Mato actually accused me of claiming they were missing just so I could still charge them for the sending. I'd have bitten his head off if I had your teeth, Black Wolf. My birds never come back empty-toed without me seeing it, you can bet the sixth moon on that.”

Nori and Kettre hid grins.

The old woman waved for thechovas to wait, and picked up a small stack of books with her thin hands.

”If you've got company on the ride, you can take this up also, if you're willing.”

Nori glanced at the three books. ”Ah, the monthly trade-off.” They were well worn, but they'd be welcome at the isolated tower. ”What t.i.tles?”

”Two cla.s.sics and one modern:Landfall, by Lurien,Who Hunts the Wolves, andOn the Edge of Aiueven, by Reveven.”

”I've been avoiding that last one,” she admitted as the cozar handed them up to Kettre.

The old message master grinned toothily. ”As have I.”

”I hear he still claims it's based on my mother.”

”I'd say he wishes hewere your mother, saving the world and all. But what does an old woman know?”

The message master shrugged her thin, bony shoulders. ”It's a fast way to silver to mention Dione. On your way now, Black Wolf.” As the waitingchovas took their place, the old woman called after them, ”And don't forget to bring back the other books they've finished.”

They waved over their shoulders.

They were well ahead of the caravan before Nori told Kettre about the watcher Ed Proving had seen the night before.

Kettre scowled. ”Watchers, kidnappings, and attacks on the road? Someone's got to be communicating constantly to put that all together.”

Nori nodded. ”We'll start watching the ring-runners and message master more closely. If messages are going missing, someone might be intercepting or stealing them so she can't keep a record. Uncle Wakje says they did that sometimes to make it harder to backtrack them later.”

Kettre slanted her a look. ”I don't see how you're going to be able to tell anything from that old spider.

She just added a nonexistent message to her tally simply because you asked. You might as well call her a tally ho.”

”Moons, Kettre.” Nori looked around quickly.

”Don't worry, she didn't hear me,” the woman returned sourly. ”Besides, it's true.”