Here, at this propitious meeting of river, land, and sea, the people of Calah built their capital and nourished it into the richest and most powerful maritime city on the Tannis. Their fleet controlled the northern and western coasts and roved the sea to its farthest reaches. The merchants of Pra Desh traded everything in the known world from raw materials such as grain, timber, and ore to livestock, slaves, and finely wrought crafts. They shipped silk, wool, and cotton, jewelry, spices, wines, pottery, weapons, and carpets. They brought anything that could be bought to the marketplaces of Pra Desh and filled their coffers with the gold coins of many realms.
After a moment, Khan’di pointed to the right, and the travelers saw where their path wound down out of the hills to the valley and joined the caravan route as it paralleled the river to the city. They rode on to the last heavily wooded hill before the path dipped down to the open farmlands. There, Khan’di led the party into the shadows of the trees.
He turned his horse around and addressed the others. “Pra Desh is only three leagues away, and I want to get you into the city unnoticed. The Fon’s spies are on every street of Pra Desh and at every gate. They have orders to report anything unusual.”
Gabria sadly ran her hand down Nara’s neck. She knew what she was about to say would be painful, but she had thought about it for days and there was no other way to maintain the party’s anonymity. “We will have to leave the Hunnuli,” she said quietly.
Khan’di bowed his head to her in mixed respect and relief. “Lady Gabria, you have saved me the pain of asking that favor. Unfortunately, there are no other Hunnuli in my country, and as far as anyone knows the only one in the clans belongs to the great Corin sorceress. You would not be safe for long on the streets of Pra Desh.”
The young woman nodded unhappily. Although she had made the suggestion, the thought of leaving Nara behind made her very uncomfortable. “Do you mind?” she asked the black mare.
Of course I do, Nara answered. Leaving you goes against everything I am. But you are right. It must be done.
If you really need us, we will come, Eurus added.
“Thank you,” Gabria replied.
“All right,” Khan’di said. “Listen. We will separate here. I should not be seen with clansmen. It might also be best if you split up and enter the city in small groups.” He dismounted, found a stick, and drew a detailed map in the ditto
“This is the Serentine River,” he explained to his listeners, pointing to the relevant marks with his stick. “This is the harbor; this, the Redstone Hills. Here is the old city wall on the west side of the river. It extends around the Fon’s palace here on Second Hill, the temple of Elaja on First Hill, and the older residential districts, warehouses, and merchant offices. This is the arsenal where the Fon’s guards live and the weaponry is stored.
“The city, of course, has long outgrown these walls, and you will find the markets, the auction houses, and the shipwrights’ yards here, here, and here.” He pointed to each spot on his map. “The rest of the city spreads out this way to the north along the river and up the slopes of the hills. The land to the east is swampy and often floods. Only the poorer peasants, criminals, and runaway slaves live there. Do you understand so far?”
The fascinated clanspeople nodded in unison.
“Good. Now, there is a row of warehouses here in the old city. Follow this caravan road through the gate called the Sun Door. If you look for the tall buildings with the different colored flags on their towers, you will find the warehouses. Go to the fifth one in the row. It is a wool house and will be flying an orange flag. There is a wooden sheep hanging above the doors. Go there and wait for me. Do not wander around. Do not ask questions.”
“What will you be doing?” Athlone demanded.
“Seeking information.” Khan’di’s heavy face broke into a scheming grin. “I have spies on every street, too.”
“Whose warehouse is it?” Piers asked coldly.
“My cousin’s. He pretends to be a supporter of the Fon, but he has been helping me.” The Pra Deshian actually rubbed his hands together and chuckled. It was obvious he was delighted to be back in the midst of the intrigue and political scheming.
“What do we say if we meet anyone at the warehouse?” Gabria asked.
“Say nothing.” He glanced at the sun through the tree branches. “By the time all of you get there, the warehouse will be empty except for my cousin. He usually works late. He will know who you are.”
Athlone grunted. “Do you trust this man?”
“Totally. His daughter is my son’s wife. He knows what I will do to her if he betrays me.”
The travelers were quiet for a time as they studied Khan’di’s map. The Pra Deshian mounted his horse. “Remember. The fifth warehouse.” He spurred his horse back to the path.
“Be careful, Khan’di Kadoa,” Gabria called after him.
He glanced back, hiding his pleasure at the concern in her voice. “You, too, Sorceress.” Reluctantly Athlone, Gabria, and Tam dismounted from Eurus and Nara. The chieftain wiped out Khan’di’s map with a leafy branch while the others unloaded one of the packhorses and secreted most of the traveling gear and tents in a dense thicket.
Gabria was wearing her riding skirts that afternoon, so she brought out a long, cotton scarf and wrapped it like a veil over her head and across her mouth and nose. In her travel-stained garments, she would pass as a simple clanswoman. While she gathered a few belongings out of the packs for herself and Tam, someone bumped into her. Gabria turned and came face to face with Athlone.
The chief was as dirty and travel-worn as she and still bore the evidence of his recent battle. His face had lost its swelling and he could see out of both eyes, but the bruises were colorful shades of blue, green, and yellow.
Gabria decided his bruises and his newly sprouted beard gave him a raffish look. Hesitantly she touched his arm. “You look like a border ruffian,” she teased.
For a moment, he almost gathered her in his arms. He turned toward her, lifting his hands to caress her face, then he saw Sayyed standing close behind her with a strange glint in his black eyes. Athlone’s impulse faltered in a rush of renewed doubts. His hands fell back to his sides.
To hide his confusion, he patted Eurus, then swung up on his gray stallion. “Mount up, you motley plains rats. Let’s ride.” His warriors grinned at him and sprang to obey.
“Bregan, you and I will ride with Lady Gabria. Piers, you go with Tam, Sayyed, and Secen. You two,” Athlone said to the last warriors, “are on your own. Go first. Don’t get lost and don’t stop to chase the women.” The two warriors saluted and trotted out of the woods.
Gabria threw her arms around Nara’s neck. The world suddenly shimmered through the blur of her tears. “By Amara, I am going to miss you,” she whispered to the mare.
Nara gently pressed her head against Gabria’s back, enfolding the woman in the curve of her neck. And I you.
“I don’t want to do this. It doesn’t feel right.”
I will be close. You only have to call.
Gabria sniffed and smiled lopsidedly. “Like in the marshes?” she asked, remembering that awful day she’d been forced to leave Nara behind to seek the Woman of the Marsh alone.
Yes, but this time you have friends with you. Trust them. They love you. I will be waiting when you are ready for me.
Gabria nodded. Lovingly she traced the white lightning mark on Nara’s shoulder before she patted her again and stepped away. A sharp nudge almost knocked her over. She twisted around and found the foal nearly stepping on her feet, Tam hanging onto his wispy mane. Treader sat beside her, his ears drooping.