They were back at Tom’s shop. And marching towards them was a troop of Grey Guards.
The carts creaked as the drivers climbed from their seats and jumped to the ground. “You are late!” growled the leader of the Grey Guards.
“It could not be helped,” said one of the Ra-Kacharz calmly. Lief heard a jingling sound, and guessed that the muddlets were being freed from their harness.
There was the sound of hooves, as though horses were being led towards the carts. The grey horses from the field behind the shop, Lief thought.
“Good morrow, my lords and my lady Ra-Kacharz!” shouted Tom’s voice. “A fine day!”
“A fine day to be late!” the Guard grumbled.
“Leave this to me, my friend,” said Tom heartily. “I will see to the changing of the beasts. Go and finish your ale. It is a long, dry way back to Del.”
Lief’s heart lurched. He heard Barda and Jasmine draw quick, horrified breaths.
The food was not to be dumped. The carts were going on to Del!
Lief lay motionless, his mind whirling. He hardly heard the sounds of the Guards’ feet marching back to the shop. Suddenly, everything had fallen into place. For centuries carts had trundled up the hill to the palace in Del, loaded with luxurious foods. However scarce food was in the city, the favored people of the palace never went hungry.
No one had ever known where the food came from. But now Lief did.
The food came from Noradz. The people of Noradz labored to grow and gather food in their fertile fields. The cooks of Noradz worked night and day to produce delicious dishes. But only a little of what they made was enjoyed by their people. The rest was taken all the way to the palace in Del. Once it had kept the kings and queens of Deltora in ignorance of their people’s misery. Now it fed the servants of the Shadow Lord.
The Ra-Kacharz were traitors to their people. Tom, who had pretended to be against the Shadow Lord, was in fact a friend to the Grey Guards.
A hot wave of anger flooded Lief. But Barda had his mind on more pressing matters.
“We must get out of this cart!” he hissed. “Now, while the Guards are gone. Lief, can you see —?”
“I can see nothing!” Lief whispered back.
Harness jingled. Kree screeched from somewhere nearby.
“It is strange. That black bird has followed us all the way from Noradz,” said a Ra-Kachar’s voice.
“Indeed,” said Tom thoughtfully.
Lief, Barda, and Jasmine stiffened under their covering of straw. Tom had seen Kree before. Would he guess …?
Tom cleared his throat. “By the by, I must give you bad news. You will have to return to Noradz on foot. The fresh beasts kept here for your journey home have been stolen — by some crafty travellers.”
“We know it!” said one of the Ra-Kacharz angrily. “You should have taken more care. We found the beasts trying to get back into their field behind the hill late yesterday. They had bolted for home, and thrown the strangers from their backs outside our front gate.”
“The strangers brought evil to our halls,” another Ra-Kachar droned. “They escaped death by a breath, and even now lie in our dungeons.”
“Indeed,” said Tom again, very softly. Then his voice became more cheerful. “There! These poor, tired muddlets are free from their bonds. If you will take them to the field, I will finish harnessing the horses. Then, perhaps, you will share a mug of ale with me before you begin your march.”
The Ra-Kacharz agreed, and soon Lief, Barda, and Jasmine heard the sound of the muddlets being led away.
Moments later, Tom spoke again. It seemed he was talking to the horses. “Should anyone wish to leave a cart unobserved, and run to the trees at the side of the shop, this would be the time to do it. Poor Tom is alone here, now.”
The message was clear. Clumsily, the three companions wriggled out of the straw and ran, feeling stiff and bruised, to the shelter of the trees. Tom did not look up. He just went on harnessing the horses, whistling softly to himself.
Lief, Barda, and Jasmine lay watching as the shopkeeper walked casually to the back of the cart where they had been hiding and picked up the straw that had fallen to the ground. He pushed it back into place, then strolled towards the trees, his hands in his pockets. He bent down and began pulling grass, as though he was gathering it for the horses.
“You sold us muddlets that did not belong to you!” Barda hissed at him furiously.
“Ah well,” murmured Tom, without looking up. “Poor Tom finds it hard to resist gold. He admits it. But what happened was your fault, not mine, my friend. If you had taken the left-hand path, as I advised, the beasts would never have caught the scent of home and bolted. You have only yourselves to blame for your present trouble.”
“Perhaps we do,” said Lief bitterly. “But at least our only crime is foolishness. You, however, are a liar. You pretend to be on the side of those who would resist the Shadow Lord, and all the time you help to feed his servants. You deal with Grey Guards as friends.”
Tom straightened, a clump of sweet grass in his hand, and turned to look at the sign that rose so proudly upon his roof.
“Have you not noticed, my friend?” he said. “Tom’s name looks the same, whichever side you are on. It is the same whether you approach from the west or the east. It is the same whether you are inside his shop, or outside it, whether you see it in a mirror, or with your own eyes. And Tom himself is like his name. It is a matter of business.”
“Business?” spat Lief.
“Certainly. I am the same Tom to all. I do not take sides. I do not interest myself in things that are not my affair. This is wise, in these hard times. And there is far more money in it.”
He smiled, the edges of his wide mouth curving up, creasing his thin face. “Now, I suggest you make haste to leave this place. I will keep my good friends the Ra-Kacharz here for as long as I can, to give you a good start. Take off those glaring red garments first, but do not leave them here, I beg you. I want no trouble.”
He turned away and began strolling back towards the carts.
“You are a deceiver!” Lief hissed after him.
Tom paused. “Perhaps,” he drawled, without looking back. “But I am a live, rich one. And because of me, you live to fight another day.”
He walked on, holding out the grass and clicking his tongue to the horses.
The three friends began pulling off the red garments and boots, and stuffing them into their packs. Lief was simmering with rage. Jasmine glanced at him curiously.
“Tom helped us,” she pointed out. “Why should you ask any more of him? Many creatures believe in nothing but themselves. He is one of those.”
“Tom is not a creature, but a man,” Lief snapped. “He should know what is right!”
“Are you so sure you know?” Jasmine answered sharply.
Lief stared at her. “What do you mean by that?” he demanded.
“Do not argue,” said Barda wearily. “Save your strength for walking. It is a long way to Broad River.” He fastened his pack, slung it over his shoulder, and tramped off through the trees.
“We must go back to Noradz first,” said Lief, hurrying after him. “We must tell the people that they are being lied to!”
“Indeed?” said Barda wearily. “And if we survived long enough to tell them, which we probably would not, and if they believed us, which I do not think they would, and if by some miracle they broke the pattern of centuries, rebelled against the Ra-Kacharz, and refused to send their food away any longer … what do you think would happen?”
“The Shadow Lord’s food supply would dry up,” said Lief promptly.