Del and I rode abreast. I slid my hood back partway. “How long is this going to last?”
She didn’t look at me. “Until it stops.”
“Bascha—”
“I don’t know, Tiger. Truly.” The hood was aimed upward, as if she looked at the sky. “The clouds are still heavy.”
“I don’t like this,” I complained. “This is too much water.”
“Well, the South has too much heat and sand.”
“You could drown in this!”
Del pushed her hood back into place. We were practically shouting at one another because of the rainfall and the sounds of the horses. She said something.
“What?”
“I said, I don’t think so!”
“Well, it feels like it!”
“It’s more pleasant than a sandstorm.”
“I’m used to those. I know what to do.”
“You should know what to do in the rain, too: get out of it. And if you ask me, the South could stand a few rainstorms now and then. There would be streams and rivers, and everyone could eat fish.”
“I don’t need to eat fish.”
“You eat fish regularly, Tiger. You are being foolish.”
“Yeah, I know.” I pulled my hood up farther. “I wish Neesha were coming with us. It would be a help with Rashida and the horses.”
“He’s best staying there right now, to aid his mother. And if Harith dies, Neesha will be all Danika has. He knows horses. He could do the work Harith was doing.”
And so she said what I’d begun to fear in the back of my mind. Yes, Neesha wanted to rise through the seven levels of sword-dancer training, but he was a dutiful son. Danika and Rashida would both need his help.
“But Harith may not die,” Del said.
Sometimes she knew exactly what I was thinking. I was never certain how to take that. “No, he may not.”
“If he recovers, Neesha may come back home,” she said.
He might. He might not. But I didn’t want to talk about mights and maybes. “Is that the house?”
Del peered ahead. The rain was so heavy it was difficult to see much through it. “I think…yes. It is.”
“No more fire, no more hot areas,” I said. “We might be able to find shelter. This rain will stop the raiders, too. They’ll hole up under oilcloth, or, if they’re in Istamir, under a roof.”
The house was a massive pile of burned timbers and planks, most collapsed upon one another. Del and I rode to the corral we’d repaired for temporary use, untacked the horses, and turned them into it. Rain had already filled the water trough to the halfway point. We hauled saddles, bridles, supplies, bedding, to the remains of the house, where we set them in front of what had been the door. Then we made our way in, kicking wet wood aside, and hunted for some portion of the house that might keep off the rain.
“Ah,” I said. “Neesha’s sword. I forgot he’d dropped it when I threw him out of the house.” I bent, picked it up. Peered up through what remained of the framework, all wood charred. Rain hit me in the face.
Del was in another room. “Tiger—a little shelter here.”
I made my way to her through burned planking and fallen timbers. I discovered a section of wall not burned through. Del was wrestling with planks that had not succumbed entirely to the fire.
“Here.” I set down Neesha’s sword and grabbed one of the planks. “What are you doing?”
“Leaning them up against the wall. I think we have four that will stand. We’ll make a lean-to.” She heaved at a plank. “Such as it is.”
We did manage to lean four planks against the partial wall still standing, though they were of different lengths. As shelter it wasn’t much, but would still shed some of the rain.
I stripped off my coat. “Give me yours. I’ll go wrap the tack and our things in them, best as I can. Not perfect, but better than more rain getting to them.”
I picked up Neesha’s sword and crunched back through charred wood to the front of the house, where I wrapped saddles, pouches, bedrolls, and Neesha’s sword in the oilcloth. He’d need to clean and hone it, but at least he’d have a blade again.
With the sun occluded by the clouds, I couldn’t sort out what time it might be, but I thought probably late morning, not yet midday. That left a fair amount of time to make our way to Istamir by evening, if the rain stopped. I peered up at the sky, shielding my eyes against the rain as best I could. I had no experience with rain clouds, but I saw no promise that the rain might halt anytime soon. I thought for a moment, weighing crude shelter against riding in rain. And I wondered if Rashida were wet, wherever she was.
Ah, hoolies. I made my way back to Del, sandaled feet blackened by wet, charred wood. I leaned down beneath the slanted planks. “I don’t like it.”
She was seated, leaning against the wall. “The rain? Yes. You already said that.”
“No. Staying here while the raiders are doing who knows what, where they are doing it, and to whom they may be doing it.”
Del squinted against the fractured rain that made its way through the leaning planks. “I thought you wanted to stop. You said the raiders would look for shelter, too.”
“Well, I could be wrong.” I raised a finger. “Mind you, I said ‘could be.’”
Del rose, bent, ducked out from under the lean to. “Or they could be in Istamir.”
“They could.”
“Nothing to stop them keeping the horses some distance away from Istamir, then bringing them in for Marketday a few at a time, per man.”
“No, nothing,” I agreed. When Del picked her way past me, I followed. It was true I’d wanted shelter, but all I’d do is sit there twitching, wanting to be on my way. Rashida’s welfare depended on it. I did not want to imagine what she might be going through while Del and I sat under planks set against what could be the last standing portion of a wall in the house where she grew up.
Outside, Del said she would get the horses while I unwrapped our belongings. Neesha’s sword might present a slight problem, since there wasn’t room for two blades in a sheath—in the rain, we wore our swords as usual with hilts poking through a seam, but with a flap of oilcloth fastened over them—but I improvised. I dug out a roll of muslin bandages and wrapped it around and around the blade. Once Del was back with the horses, I readied the stud, held Neesha’s sword in one hand, and mounted. The wrapped sword I slid through the top leather strap of my stirrups, then settled my thigh over it. The hilt poked free of my leg.
Del, as she mounted, looked a little bedraggled. Her soaked braid hung out of the hood, and droplets ran down her face. While the rain wasn’t terribly cold, we were nonetheless wet and it robbed us of body heat. I could imagine I didn’t look much better than Del. She climbed into the saddle, cast me a glance that asked a question.
I shrugged. “Sooner there, sooner done.”
Once again, we galloped east toward Istamir.
As we approached the town, I felt somewhat relieved that it was raining, despite my complaints. No one would be out of doors, going about their business. Those free to escape the rain inside a tavern, house, or rented room, would stay put. Which meant it was unlikely any sword-dancers were out where they could see and recognize me.