‘You could walk away. Or ride away, with the wagon and team. You’re Reeth Caldason, after all. I would have thought an outlaw capable of such a thing.’
Caldason stiffened, his neck and arm muscles visibly knotting. ‘Ready?’ Without waiting for an answer he slapped the reins smartly across the horses’ hinds.
They rattled down the slope in silence.
When they reached the settlement, people came out to meet them. They were dressed plainly in homespun greys and browns. There were roughly equal numbers of men and women, upwards of two score perhaps, and around a dozen children. A small menagerie of unfettered dogs, goats and fowl accompanied them.
Karr’s claim that he knew the communards was borne out by the warm welcome they gave him. There was much in the way of hand-shaking, back-slapping and hugs. Reeth and Kutch were introduced only as friends; Karr withheld their names. The greeting they got was naturally less demonstrative than his, but seemed as open. And although Reeth’s light olive cast and slightly angular facial bone structure testified to his birthright, no one showed any hostility at having a Qalochian in their midst.
Having handed over his pair of daggers, Karr turned to Reeth. ‘You must give up your weapons,’ he told him.
Caldason bit down and unbuckled his swords, then took a sheathed knife from his belt. He dumped them into the outstretched arms of a waiting Disobedient. The man went off with them, smiling. Caldason glowered.
‘I have business to discuss with our hosts,’ Karr announced, nodding towards a particular group of communards. They were dressed as humbly as the others, and beyond the fact that they stood apart there was nothing to indicate they might have any authority. ‘It shouldn’t take long. In the meantime, they say you’re welcome to go where you please in the commune. Rest, eat, refresh yourselves. I’ll join you later.’
Reeth and Kutch watched him go with the communards into one of the round houses. Excitement over, the rest of the crowd melted away.
‘Well, that’s us dismissed,’ Caldason said.
Karr’s meeting proved much longer than promised. The morning stretched into afternoon, the afternoon into early evening, without sign of him.
Kutch and Reeth killed time by exploring the settlement. Their first impression was confirmed; the buildings were in a dilapidated state. Doors were off their hinges, corral fences were broken, the pigment used to stain woodwork was blistered and peeling. The animals, both livestock and domestic, looked undernourished. There was a general air of decline.
The communards, who appeared no less gaunt than their stock, left them to their own devices. People occasionally stared, but didn’t trouble them.
Given the impoverished state of things, Reeth, and Kutch in particular, felt uncomfortable about asking to be fed. After being led to a refectory, where all the tables save theirs were empty, they were served watery soup, black bread and tart apples. Adequate, if bland fare.
Now, as the evening shadows lengthened, they made their way back to the round house Karr had entered. Its door remained fenced off.
Caldason grew impatient. ‘This delay’s starting to irk me. How much longer’s the man going to be?’
‘I suppose they have a lot to discuss,’ Kutch replied, shrugging. He’d noticed how his companion’s mood had darkened.
‘I’ll hurry them.’
‘That might be thought uncivil, Reeth. Best to wait.’
‘Until when? Morning? I’m no man’s servant.’ He broke away and strode towards the building.
‘Reeth, no. Wait!’
Ten paces short, Caldason stopped. The door had opened, a square of light in the gathering gloom. Chattering people disgorged. There was some good-natured laughter. Karr emerged, saw Caldason and hurried to him, cloak flowing, arms outstretched apologetically.
‘I’m sorry, truly. It proved much more drawn out than expected.’
‘That’s all right,’ Kutch assured him.
Caldason was less forgiving, and a little sarcastic. ‘Part of your grand project, was it?’
‘It was important. More than that I can’t say at the moment.’ He ushered them away from the round house. ‘Walk with me, my friends.’
Bunched together, they steered clear of the communards.
‘What do you think of the place?’ Karr asked.
‘We certainly had long enough to form an opinion,’ Caldason replied.
‘Yes, I said I was sorry. But what do you
think
?’
‘The people seem decent enough. As to the set-up here, I’m not too impressed.’
‘Kutch?’
‘I think the same as Reeth, I suppose. Things don’t seem too efficient, and you’d imagine they would be after… What is it? Ten years?’
Karr smiled. ‘I agree.’
‘You do?’
‘Yes. I don’t think this place works either. I never thought it would. Right motivation, wrong approach.’
‘So why come here?’ Caldason said.
‘I promised them I would. Besides, I don’t say everything they do is wrong. But this isn’t the time to discuss it.’ He glanced at several passing communards. ‘Look, the day’s well advanced and none of us got a great deal of sleep last night. We’ve been invited to stay until morning, and I suggest we accept. Tomorrow we can make an early start.’
Kutch had no objection. They took Caldason’s silence as assent.
‘We have a choice of places to bed down,’ Karr explained. ‘There are dormitories, which most of the communards use, or one or two quieter places if you want privacy.’
‘I’d prefer something private,’ Kutch decided, ‘if nobody minds.’
‘No problem. But remember the embargo on magic. We don’t want our hosts offended by any late night spell-casting.’
‘I promise. What about you?’
‘I’ll take a dormitory.’
‘I wouldn’t have thought that was what you were used to.’
‘Because I’m a patrician?’ Karr grinned. ‘Don’t look embarrassed; you’re right. But it’s politic for me to enter into the co-operative spirit.’ He looked to Caldason. ‘You’re quiet, Reeth.’
‘Just tired.’
‘Where do you want to sleep?’
‘Out here.’
Karr was perplexed. ‘When you have a warm bed on offer? And a roof over your head?’
‘I’m accustomed to sleeping outdoors. Stars are the only roof I need.’ He indicated a small stand of trees, just beyond the commune’s outermost buildings. ‘I’ll be there.’
The patrician’s eyebrows rose a smidgen. ‘As you please. Come on, Kutch.’
Kutch bade Caldason goodnight, and felt a little wounded when there was no response. They left him standing in front of the round house.
Karr led the boy to a shack, run-down outside but clean, if spartan, within. It had a reasonably sized cot and a good supply of blankets. The patrician let Kutch know where he was sleeping, closed the door and left.
There were candles on an upended crate, but Kutch didn’t bother with them. He realised how tired he was, and took to the bed fully clothed. It was comfortable. In truth, now that a wave of fatigue had hit him, a stone floor would have seemed inviting.
He thought he should at least get out of his jerkin. But he didn’t really want to move. And his boots. He should definitely take those off. In a minute he would, when he’d relaxed a bit. He’d just lie here for a while, then undress properly. In a minute or two.
He slipped into a velvety, dreamless sleep.
An immeasurable slab of time passed.
Then somebody was shaking him awake. A figure in the dark he couldn’t see properly, looming over him. He tried to cry out and a hand clamped against his mouth.
The figure leaned closer.
‘Help me,’
it whispered hoarsely.
12
Kutch’s night visitor must have left the hut’s door ajar, because a gust of wind made it creak open a fraction. A sliver of light entered, dispelling the shadows concealing the intruder’s face.
Caldason, wild-eyed, dishevelled.
He took his hand away from Kutch’s mouth. The boy relaxed a little, though his friend’s crazed appearance still made him nervous.
‘What is it?’ he said. ‘What’s wrong?’
Reeth put a finger to his lips in a hushing gesture. His movements were uncertain, like a drunk’s. But he hadn’t been drinking.