A crack splintered the silence. A shout rose from the last third of the cavalcade. Anji turned around at once and pressed his mount forward with Mai following close behind. Men's voices rose in tones of anger, sharp and ugly. Staffs cracked against wood and steel as blows were traded.
"Chief!" called Anji.
Qin soldiers peeled off to follow their captain. Some lengths back, the steady current had broken into an eddy. A wagon listed to one side. Two barrels had tumbled off. One had caught in the wheels of a handcart. A man sat on the ground holding his foot. Men scuffled like wrestlers, arms to shoulders, straining and kicking, and a length of green silk was twisted in the dust.
The chief drove his horse into the middle of this, and the size and weight of the beast was enough to send men scrambling. A youth grabbed the arm of an older man just before he could punch a retreating merchant. Here were men only; as far as she had seen, no women traveled in the caravans that went down to Sirniaka.
"What! What!" cried Tuvi as Anji waited at an intimidating distance with ten soldiers fanned out to support their chief. "What trouble is this?"
They cursed at each other, shaking fists as they called out their grievances.
The first man was fat, energetic, and ready to throw blows again. "This man's wagon has rammed into my cart and damaged my goods and my cart. He should be fined for not keeping his wagon in good repair."
A lean man, puffing and panting, answered him in a breathless voice. "My axle pin-gone missing-you see how the other is double-looped so it won't slip free. I've been sabotaged!"
Both were overtaken by a merchant splendid in gold and brown robes who clutched a supple leather pouch the size of two fists and shook it furiously. "Look here! This is my pouch of saffron. The jewel of spices and most valuable! Where do I find it? In the cart of this thief! He's lifted it right out of my wagon, the criminal!"
The man accused of thievery was young. He gaped like a fish tossed out of the water, too dumbfounded to respond to this charge. But others were eager to voice their protests; and many more crowded forward to watch as Anji commanded a boy to run, run, and fetch the caravan master.
"My best bolt of silk, ruined by these blind oafs! Could you not watch where you are going?"
"Aui! The vessel is broken! That is finest oil of naya. Water-white. How am I to be repaid for my loss?"
"What about-my wheel-can't fix-here on the road."
"I want this thief taken before the assizes. This is an outrage! My saffron!"
The forward portion of the caravan rolled on, heading for Olossi. A gap opened between the forward wagons and this last third held up by the damaged wagon and the gathering crowd. Those stuck behind the breakdown were beginning to raise a clamor, and it seemed some of the merchants were ready to branch off the main road onto the secondary paths and tracks but were hesitant to move because of the presence of the dour Qin soldiers.
She felt cold, and then hot, and not only because of the cloudless sky and glaring sun. She pushed her mount through the soldiers, who reined aside to allow her to move up beside Anji. He had dismounted beside the man transporting the oil. Wiping his fingers along the crack in the sealed clay vessel, he sniffed at the oily liquid, then licked his fingers to taste it.
"Where does this come from?" he asked the merchant.
"The best seeps rise along the west shore of the Olo'o Sea, ver. Right up against the mountains, where the land cracks into fissures and ravines. In the empire, they call it 'king's oil.' "
"So they do." Seeing Mai, Anji walked to her horse. "What disturbs you?" he asked.
She bent, to speak softly. "There is something amiss here, but I can't explain it. It's only a feeling I have. I'm uneasy."
He nodded, and whistled to get Tuvi's attention. "Take Mai and these soldiers and return to the prisoner. Send Tam to bring up the rear guard to support me. I'll remain here until the caravan master arrives." He walked back to the merchant.
Mai knew an order when she heard it. She had long since learned when there is a crack and when the gate is firmly shut. She rode away with Chief Tuvi, but after all no further altercations disrupted the journey. They had almost reached the outer wall and a wide gate where all the traffic converged when Anji and the caravan master returned.
"Crow's Gate is for merchants and goods and laborers," the caravan master was saying. "Because you have a prisoner bound for the assizes, you'll have to enter at Harrier's Gate. They'll want to quarter your soldiers outside the town as well."
"I see," said Anji. "Do the council members fear we'll cause them trouble?"
Tuvi coughed.
The caravan master shrugged. "I'll speak in your favor, certainly. You've met your obligation, and been true to your promise. But you have to look at it from their way of seeing. You've a strong force, over two hundred armed men. That's always a threat. And you admit that you spun us a false tale, to get out of Sarida."
"After all this, I would hate to find my faithful men taken as enemies," said Anji.
"I'll escort you. My journeyman can shepherd the caravan through, and I'll meet him once you are settled."
"I thank you for the courtesy," said Anji gravely.
The caravan master nodded with equal solemnity.
This, Mai saw, would be the first test. They would soon learn whether foreigners like themselves had any hope of a future in the Hundred, or whether they would have to turn tail and run, knowing there was nowhere to run. But because Anji appeared collected and calm, she found her market manners and her market face, and gathered her wagon and her slaves and followed as the Qin company and their prisoner split off from the caravan now filtering wagon by wagon through Crow's Gate.
Shai turned his mount in beside hers, since Anji had ridden ahead. "Do you think after all we'll find no sanctuary here?" he asked nervously.
"We must wait and see."
"You've a cold heart, Mai, not to be sweating!"
"Anji will pull us through."
That made him fall silent, thank goodness!
A secondary road ran parallel to the outer walls, which were to Mai's eye an unimpressive collection of log palisades and barriers crudely stitched together. They rode in the direction of the sea and came at length to the river's shore. Here stood a closed gate, framed by stone and capped by a thick black beam. Two guard towers rose, one on either side, manned by archers who leaned on the rail and examined them with the intense and easygoing interest of men who have been bored beyond measure.
"What's this?" asked the younger.
"Call Captain Waras!" called the older to unseen men behind the wall.
"I'm Master Iad," called the caravan master. "Well known here, although my family home lies in Olo Crossing. I lodge at the Seven Chukars in town, here. Any of your merchants along Stone Field will vouch for me."
"You must speak to Captain Waras," said the older.
The younger nudged him and pointed at Mai, and the older pursed his lips as if to whistle, thought better of it, and looked away.
They waited.
"I don't like this," Shai muttered.
"Hush."
He gave her a bitter look, dismounted, and led his horse toward the river. She followed his progress with her gaze.
The field before Harrier's Gate had most recently been used, it appeared, as pasture, cropped short and still sprinkled here and there with sheep pellets although no sheep grazed within view. Reeds and tall grass marked the course of the river, now a broad gray-blue flow spreading and slowing as it frayed into the dozen estuarine channels of the delta. Huts stood on the far bank, and a woman in bright blue silk poled a skiff into those distant reeds. The sun baked them; in patches, where bare earth showed through heavily cropped grass, the soil showed fine cracks.