Carefully, so as not to disturb him, she examined his limbs and his torso for wounds that needed mending. She found cuts and scraps, a black eye, a bite that would need careful observation, bumps and bruises, and two slashes that needed stitching, one on his forearm and a second on his ribs. He had been very lucky. Using warm water she had brought down from the campfire and a small healer’s kit, she washed the slashes and gently stitched them closed by torchlight. He did not move through either stitching, and she assumed he slept through the whole procedure. But when she finished the last knot on his side, his hand caught hers and pressed her fingers to his lips. She looked down in the dark planes of his face and saw his eyes watching her.
Mariana smiled.
“Thank you,” he whispered. “You’re a woman of many talents.”
She brushed her lips over his forehead. “Sleep now, Hugh. Morning is coming.”
He blinked at her, then his eyes slid closed and he dropped back into sleep, still holding her hand.
Mariana waited a little while before she slid her hand free. She snuffed out the torch in the water, and in the darkness she found the long sword and the rapier on the graveled bank and the poniard resting in a heap of dust. She placed them carefully by her friends’ sides. Satisfied, she sat down on the large rock nearby to keep watch.
The Grandfather Tree
19
Linsha awoke to sharp points digging into her skin and a small weight bouncing on her chest. She opened bleary eyes and looked directly into round, golden brown eyes surrounded by a ring of creamy feathers. A sharp beak clacked a greeting.
“Oh, good. You’re awake,” chirped the owl, bouncing up and down again for good measure.
“Varia,” Linsha croaked. “Where have you been?”
“Yes, I see you had a busy night.”
Linsha pushed herself up to a sitting position and looked around. The mists of night had vanished. The sun was shining brightly on the water. She was still lying on the bank, but there was no one else in sight.
“Where is everyone?”
“Getting ready to go,” Varia replied, hopping up onto Linsha’s shoulder. “Messengers arrived at dawn. Centaurs.” The owl bobbed again in excitement. “The tribes and clans of Duntollik are already meeting. They heard we were coming and wanted someone to come now to talk to the chiefs. If they agree, we’re supposed to go the Grandfather Tree for the gathering of the warriors.”
Linsha’s forehead wrinkled in thought. This was a great deal of information to force into a brain that was still trying to work out what time of day it was.
“The Grandfather Tree? What is that?”
Varia’s eyes glowed gold with delight. “I will not spoil the surprise. It is one of the true wonders of these Plains.”
Linsha felt too lousy to argue. “Fine. So where have you been?”
“Following the Tarmaks. They are about three days’ march behind.”
“Is Crucible …?”
“He is still alive and still a prisoner. They keep him in the center of the army and keep guards around him. I cannot get close.” She fluffed her feathers, a habit she had when something bothered her. “Someone else is following you now.”
Linsha rubbed her eyes and took a deep breath. Memories of the night before were coming back with painful clarity, and she remembered something one of the draconians had said, something about a bounty.
“Bounty hunters? Did the Tarmaks put a bounty on me?”
“It’s possible. I saw maybe twenty or thirty humans and draconians riding in the Tarmak army, and other small bands are roving along the trails in this area. But no, this is someone else. Sir Remmik.”
“What?” Linsha sat bolt upright and stared at the owl in astonishment.
“Sir Remmik and three Knights. I saw them last night. They are following your trail. I think they’re going to Duntollik, too.”
Linsha was too dumbfounded to speak. What was the Knight Commander doing free of the Tarmak army? Had Sir Remmik and some of his Knights escaped?
“I told Falaius about them,” Varia went on. “I said you might want to send someone back for them, but he refused. We don’t have time. We have to get the Grandfather Tree in two days’ time. They’ll just have to catch up.”
“You talked to Falaius already?” Linsha demanded. “How long have you been back? What time is it? How long was I sleeping?” She struggled to her feet, dislodging the owl from her shoulder.
Varia fluttered to the large rock and perched, waiting while Linsha found her sword and the poniard and shoved them into the scabbards at her belt. “It’s still morning,” she said. “You’ve only slept a few hours, according to Mariana.”
Linsha, balanced on one foot, glared around at the grassy bank. “Where is Sir Hugh?”
“Oh, he left a little while ago. He volunteered to go speak to the tribal leaders at the Grandfather Tree.”
“He left!” Linsha snapped. “Oh, for pity’s sake, wasn’t anyone going to tell me anything?” She struggled forward on one foot, sore and aching and annoyed with the whole world.
“I just told you,” Varia said.
“Stop it, right there,” Mariana called from the top of the riverbank. “You shouldn’t climb this without help. Your ankle has a bad sprain.” She jogged down the slope and put an arm around Linsha’s shoulder.
Linsha transferred her glare to her friend. “Why didn’t someone wake me up sooner?”
“You were on guard duty half the night, remember? There was nothing you needed to do. Now we have broken camp and are ready to go.”
“Sir Hugh managed to get up and be useful,” Linsha said, grumbling, but listening to herself, she had to admit she sounded rather petulant.
“Sir Hugh was just coming on guard duty when we were attacked. He’d already had some sleep. And he does not have an injured ankle. He can get there faster. Now stop sounding like a fretful child and be grateful you are still alive. Not everyone I know survives a fight with three draconians.”
Mariana hefted some of Linsha’s weight onto her shoulders and helped her up the steep bank to the grassy grove where they had pitched their camp the night before.
Linsha saw the horses were already saddled and the gear packed. Off to one side in the trees, she saw a pile of bodies-the bandits from the night attack. Everyone in her party was upright and alive. Thank the absent gods for that.
Varia winged past her and came to land on the pommel of the saddle on Linsha’s horse. While Falaius and the others mounted, Mariana gave Linsha a leg up then sprang onto her own mount.
Moments later they were gone, and the dust slowly settled over the dead.
Linsha had always found a way to feel at home wherever she went. Her family home was in Solace, to be sure, but she had traveled so much during her lifetime that she had learned to adapt. After all, one place was much like another in the background. Anywhere she stayed for more than a day or two she soon felt comfortable, even in Schallsea where her parents had forced her to go, or Palanthas, or Haven, or Sanction, or Missing City. Everywhere there were the same rocks and dirt and people and plants and animals. Only the trappings and the names were different.
Everywhere she could find something familiar.
Everywhere except the interior of the Plains of Dust. This drear, rugged land even she found difficult to embrace.
While her party had followed the Toranth River the past few days, she had been comfortable enough. Although she much preferred a city, here along the river there was abundant water and forage and prey for the hunters’ bows. She found peace in the voice of the swiftly rushing water and pleasure in the wind as it swept through the willows and cottonwoods lining the banks. There were colors to please the eye-green in the rushes and grasses, a touch of autumn gold in the leaves of the cottonwoods, soft reds and tans in the rocks, and the vivid blue of the vast sky.