Part 9 (1/2)

”You're not the Weaver's girl anymore, that's certain. But remember that n.o.bility can insulate as well as expose.”

Mar looked down, nodding. She knew what the Wolfshead said was true. But, like so many things lately, it didn't make her feel any better.

”Come,” Wolfshead said, her voice soft and kind. ”There's no harm in being a weaver's girl for a little while longer.”

”All ready, then?” he said, turning toward them with a smile.

The innkeeper shook his head, grinning. ”If I'd known you had a cousin of the Tenebros with you, I'd have charged you more for your room.”

”Why do you think we didn't tell you?”

The man was still chuckling when Mar followed Lionsmane through the inn's gated entrance out into a wide city street. The Wolfshead, for once, was bringing up the rear, with Mar safely tucked between them.

”It's a long walk, as walking goes, from this quarter to Tenebro House. You're sure you don't want us to get you a horse?” Lionsmane looked back at her over his left shoulder.

Mar shook her head. ”I'd rather walk,” she said. ”I'd like to see something of the city.” They wouldn't push her, she knew. They would realize that she was making delays out of nervousness. The Lionsmane was humming and whistling as if there was something about cities that brought out a spirit of fun in him.

As they walked, the narrow street crossed others and widened into squares every now and then, some with public fountains and others with neighborhood ovens. The business of the day had already started for many of the people, and setting aside the difference that sheer numbers meant, Mar saw much that was familiar to her. Shops, homes, and taverns being swept out, stalls being set up in the squares, and merchants laying out their wares. These were not like the large farmers' market she'd known in Navra, but neighborhood places, where people came to do their marketing every day.

”Oh, look,” Mar said, as she turned aside to watch two women pulling strands of ever thinner dough from hand to hand, doubling and twisting the strands until they were almost as fine as hairs before hanging them to dry on racks made of thin wooden dowels.

”Noodle makers,” Lionsmane said, stopping beside her. ”Much more popular than rice or potatoes here. They say you eventually get tired of eating noodles, but it's never happened to me.”

After a while the streets got wider, the market squares larger and noisier, and Mar began to wish for a horse after all. Lionsmane and Wolfshead moved through the crowd as if they were alone on the trail. Light glinted off the little beads and bits of metal woven into Wolfshead's narrow blood-red braids. Mar glanced ahead at Lionsmane. They both seemed so relaxed, striding along bareheaded and empty-handed. Both had put away their traveling leathers and were dressed once more as Mar had seen them when they had first met. Both in loose-fitting trousers tucked into half boots, the Lionsmane in a light brown tunic embroidered with gold threads that caught and reflected the gold in his hair, the Wolfshead in her quilted vest, bright with beading and ribbons, her arms bare, her skin white in the chill morning air. For the most part the two Brothers smiled as they spoke to each other and to Mar, pointing out here a spotted horse like Wolfshead's Bloodbone, there a seller of spiced rolls that Lionsmane insisted on buying, and pausing at one point to watch a group of children play a skipping game. But Mar noticed that the Wolfshead in particular scanned the people around them, as though she were looking for something or someone in particular, not just checking for possible danger. Mar followed one especially narrow glance at a redheaded man before she realized what it was the Wolfshead looked for.

Red Hors.e.m.e.n, Mar thought. Mar thought. She's looking for other Red Hors.e.m.e.n. She's looking for other Red Hors.e.m.e.n.

The streets became more crowded as businesses opened and serious marketing began. Still, Mar noticed that people seemed to clear a path for the Mercenaries without being aware of it.

At one point she saw three people dressed in the dark green of the Marked. There were a few stony looks, but most of the pa.s.sersby ignored them. With the crowds, entertainers appeared, and after so many days on horseback Mar was grateful for the rest stops, once to watch a particularly good juggler, and once a person who seemed to be swallowing swords. Mar turned for one last look as they continued on their way.

”How does she do that?”

”Sword's dull,” Wolfshead said, as if that explained everything.

”Oh, and another thing . . .” Lionsmane was imparting a steady commentary on manners and protocol over his shoulder as they walked. Mar swallowed, her head was starting to spin.

”Parno, for Sun and Moon's sake, leave the Dove alone. You told her all this on the trail, and she's asked you all the questions she can think of. If she hasn't memorized the eating tools by now, she's not going to the next few spans.”

Mar flashed the older woman a grateful smile, hoping it didn't look as stiff as it felt. Now that she was on the point of putting Lionsmane's instructions to use, Mar was finding it vastly less entertaining than it had seemed on the road. And perhaps less to be wished for than it had seemed in Navra.

”Have we much farther to go?” Her feet hurt, and her legs weren't used to walking. Part of her wanted to get there, to get it over with. Part of her hoped that this walk would never end.

Dhulyn was enjoying herself as much as she could in a city-fine places to visit, she'd always thought, but you wouldn't want to live in one. They crossed a broad avenue and turned uphill, entering a sizable square where three streets met, and the corner of a warehouse b.u.t.ted up against a half-ruined garden wall. Here, such a crowd had gathered that it almost blocked the pa.s.sage through the area entirely. A man in red-and-brown robes was standing on what was left of the wall, raised above the crowd to about the height of a person sitting on a horse. Dhulyn wondered if this particular bit of wall had been chosen for just that reason. Get the people to see you as an authority, either n.o.ble or military.

And the man was was a Jaldean priest, no doubt about it, though certainly the youngest one Dhulyn had ever seen. Hair and beard close-cropped. High forehead and a spot showing where he would be bald in a few years. A much older man in robes of the same colors stood on the ground near the speaker's feet. Dhulyn slowed to let some of the people coming the other way pa.s.s by on her left side. She'd thought she'd seen a flash of green as the older man's head had turned away, but she couldn't be sure unless he turned back again. The crowd closest to the priests certainly looked slack-jawed and blank-faced, but they did not display any of the destructive behavior she and Parno had seen in the mob in Navra. a Jaldean priest, no doubt about it, though certainly the youngest one Dhulyn had ever seen. Hair and beard close-cropped. High forehead and a spot showing where he would be bald in a few years. A much older man in robes of the same colors stood on the ground near the speaker's feet. Dhulyn slowed to let some of the people coming the other way pa.s.s by on her left side. She'd thought she'd seen a flash of green as the older man's head had turned away, but she couldn't be sure unless he turned back again. The crowd closest to the priests certainly looked slack-jawed and blank-faced, but they did not display any of the destructive behavior she and Parno had seen in the mob in Navra.

Mar's hand tugged slightly on the front of Dhulyn's vest as the press of people moved them farther apart, recalling Dhulyn to her charge.

”Just keep moving,” Dhulyn told her. ”Keep your hand on Parno, don't worry about me.” She smiled when Mar took hold of Parno's sword belt before letting go of Dhulyn's vest. Smart girl. It was hard to navigate in this big a crowd if you didn't know how. Easy to lose your nerve.

”Now there's no doubt,” the young Jaldean was saying, ”that the Caids knew how to awaken the Sleeping G.o.d. And there's no one who has seen the Dead Spots, where the land is blackened and sterile, melted and fused like gla.s.s, who doesn't know what happens when the Sleeping G.o.d awakes.”

Dhulyn raised her eyebrows, but kept her grimace from moving so far as her lips. She remembered, years before, walking through a market square with Dorian the Black, and stopping to listen to an old man, a Jaldean priest. All that that old man had talked about was how the Sleeping G.o.d kept watch always in his dreams, ready to awaken and protect everyone from harm. She'd still been a child then-at least in some ways-with a child's way of looking at things, and she'd wondered just how blooded bad things had to get for the blooded G.o.d to wake up and help people. old man had talked about was how the Sleeping G.o.d kept watch always in his dreams, ready to awaken and protect everyone from harm. She'd still been a child then-at least in some ways-with a child's way of looking at things, and she'd wondered just how blooded bad things had to get for the blooded G.o.d to wake up and help people.

Today's priest seemed to have come a long way from that.

”And we think-we hope hope-that knowledge has died with the Caids, but has it? I ask you, my friends, has it?” Several voices called out ”no,” but the man continued as if he hadn't been answered. ”We can't know for certain, and that's the fact. But we can can take precautions, we take precautions, we can can take care. take care.

”We don't know know that there are snakes in the gra.s.s, but we that there are snakes in the gra.s.s, but we can can thump the ground with our walking sticks as we go, to be safe. We don't thump the ground with our walking sticks as we go, to be safe. We don't know know that the Cloud People are going to rob the caravan, they say they won't . . .” Here the man smiled and shook his head as if he could say a thing or two about that, and smiles and winks pa.s.sed through the listening crowd as if they, too, knew something about the real behavior of Cloud People. ”But we that the Cloud People are going to rob the caravan, they say they won't . . .” Here the man smiled and shook his head as if he could say a thing or two about that, and smiles and winks pa.s.sed through the listening crowd as if they, too, knew something about the real behavior of Cloud People. ”But we can can hire guards to keep ourselves safe. hire guards to keep ourselves safe.

”Now, the Marked say they're not trying to awaken the Sleeping G.o.d, that they don't even know how. And many of you have Marked among your neighbors, kind, helpful people and they tell you they don't know how to awaken the Sleeping G.o.d, and you think it must be true. You don't see how they can be so dangerous and so wicked.” The Jaldean pursed his lips and nodded, as if conceding the point. ”But we know, know,” his voice fell like a hammer, ”that the Marked are the descendants of the Caids. Where else would their special talents come from, remember, talents that can't be taught to all or any-talents that draw on the Sleeping G.o.d's power, draining it, bringing him ever closer to wakefulness. No my friends, however kind and helpful they might be as individuals, as your neighbors, as your friends, the Marked are a danger to you, and a danger to themselves. They must must stop. We stop. We must must learn to do without their aid, their learn to do without their aid, their deceptive deceptive aid, in order to preserve the world. We must take steps to save ourselves. And to save them too! All they have to do is come to the shrine to be blessed. All they have to do is come to the shrine to be cleansed, to be purified. Let us help them to keep us all safe . . .” aid, in order to preserve the world. We must take steps to save ourselves. And to save them too! All they have to do is come to the shrine to be blessed. All they have to do is come to the shrine to be cleansed, to be purified. Let us help them to keep us all safe . . .”

The Jaldean's comfortable tone, the throaty murmurs of the crowd, died away as Parno led them slowly out of the square.

”Sometimes,” Mar murmured to Dhulyn, ”they seem to make sense.”

”Yes,” Dhulyn's tone was carefully neutral. ”Yes, they do.” In public they were all tolerance and forgiveness, Alkoryn Pantherclaw had said, and Dhulyn saw what he meant. That's what makes them so dangerous, That's what makes them so dangerous, she thought. Much of what was said seemed so logical, people tended not to question the rest. Dorian had always said to be careful of logic. While one was using logic on you, another was stealing your purse. Or slitting your throat. She met the eye of a man behind her, also trying to leave the square, who murmured something under his breath and shook his head, holding Dhulyn's eye. She kept her face impa.s.sive, but did not turn away. she thought. Much of what was said seemed so logical, people tended not to question the rest. Dorian had always said to be careful of logic. While one was using logic on you, another was stealing your purse. Or slitting your throat. She met the eye of a man behind her, also trying to leave the square, who murmured something under his breath and shook his head, holding Dhulyn's eye. She kept her face impa.s.sive, but did not turn away.

The streets became wider still, and better paved, with fewer people on them and no one, now, in the dark green of the Marked. Walls of undressed stone lined with the doorways of shops and workplaces gradually turned into unbroken whitewashed stucco. At one point bells started ringing the midmorning watch.

”Do you recognize that tune, my heart?” Dhulyn called out.

”I've heard it, certainly,” Parno said. ”But I don't place it.

Dhulyn began to sing.

Halfway through a second verse, their voices faltered as a burly man running to fat went past on a roan horse being led by a servant. He turned his head to watch them as he pa.s.sed. The servant and the horse didn't look. Dhulyn laughed and began to whistle the tune.

When they were still a street away from Tenebro House, Dhulyn called to Parno and drew her companions to one side.

”Well, little Dove,” Dhulyn said, the corner of her mouth lifting. ”This is your last chance. Do we go on?”

The girl looked from one to the other. Parno raised his eyebrows but said nothing. Dhulyn hadn't consulted him, knowing he would be with her on this. Better the girl should freely choose.

Mar nodded absently, her eyes focused somewhere between the two Mercenaries. She parted her lips, thought better of what she was about to say, and shut her mouth again. ”What about your pay?” she asked finally.

”We'd want to be paid, rightly enough,” Dhulyn told her. ”But in this case we're not particular by whom. Plenty of work to be found in this city now that we're here. For you and and us.” Dhulyn smiled, no need for the Dove to know what Alkoryn had told them. ”We could wait to be paid if you decide so. Or simply,” she said, her voice more gentle, ”we can wait if you need time to be certain.” us.” Dhulyn smiled, no need for the Dove to know what Alkoryn had told them. ”We could wait to be paid if you decide so. Or simply,” she said, her voice more gentle, ”we can wait if you need time to be certain.”

Mar nodded again. She looked up, meeting Dhulyn's eyes directly. ”Suppose I go to my House, I might still change my mind,” Mar said.