“Dushik, take care of him!” she ordered. If deaf men could tell tales, dead men would not. Dushik obliged her, as always.
5: Igen and Lemos Holds, PP 12
THELLA WAS NOT pleased when she and Giron arrived at the labyrinthine Igen caverns to find that their usual discreet entrance had been blocked up again. She was angry enough to help Giron destroy the barrier.
“Someone didn’t do a good job,” Giron said as the hardset that sealed the stones crumbled at the touch of his steel.
“I’d skin a stoneman who did such shoddy work,” Thella said through gritted teeth. She was tired, and she had counted on getting safely inside without being caught by the Igen patrol they had seen in the distance.
The site had been excellent for her purposes. A tangle of young sky-broom saplings partially concealed an opening just high enough to permit runners to enter. Inside, the ceiling was sufficient for tall men to stand erect. A small chamber to the right of the entrance made an excellent beast shelter, with water oozing into a pool. There were four other tunnels leading from the entrance, two of them falling into dangerous shafts; the widest led deep into the bowels of the cave system; the fourth and narrowest seemed to end within a dragonlength but, in fact, turned abruptly right and came out at one of the intersecting main passages of the inhabited portions of the cave system.
It was easy enough to get into the vaulted chambers where people congregated during the day without encountering any of Lord Laudey’s guards. Although Thella contacted one of her regular informers, it took all morning before she caught a glimpse of her quarry. She was not impressed.
Aramina was a slender brown girl, her pants rolled to her knees, and traces of mud on her legs and arms. Her clothing was muddy, as well, and as she passed by Thella’s vantage point, the odor of the mudflats lingered about her, along with the stench of the net full of shellfish she carried. A small, muddier boy tagged along, calling, “Aramina, wait for me!” —and Thella had the positive identification she needed.
She saw Giron’s cold eyes following the pair, and the ominous expression on his face made her uncomfortable.
“I’ll want some proof of her abilities,” she said. “She’s of an age to be difficult. Too old to be malleable, and too young to be reasoned with. Find out what you can about her. I’ll see where she squats.” She caught his arm as he turned away. “And be sure you eat before you come back. It looks like some scavenger smelled out the supplies we left here.”
“Snake, more likely,” Giron said unexpectedly, his gaze following the girl as she made her way among those sitting about the wide, low-ceilinged cavern.
Thella went in search of her most reliable source of information. As she made her way to a largish side chamber, not far from the main entrance, she realized that there were more folk living in the caverns than ever before. The place stank of its throng. Thella estimated that there must have been hundreds sitting or standing about. From snatches of conversation she overheard, she understood them to be waiting for the arrival of Lady Holder Doris, who came every morning with three healers to examine the injured or ailing and distribute the day’s ration of flour and root vegetables. The ablebodied apparently added to those supplies, to judge by Aramina’s net. Shellfish from Igen’s tidal flats were very tasty. Those holdless drifters were living better than she, of Telgar’s Bloodline, had in her first Turn of the Pass. Well, if the Igen Lord Holder and his Lady had food to give to beggars, then she would not mind lifting more of their goods in the future, Thella decided, skirting the crowd deftly. No one seemed to take note of her as she ducked down the passageway to Brare’s squat.
“It’s tough times,” the footless seaman told her, and expected her to believe it as he dipped out a bowl of thick fish chowder for her, rich with roots, a variety of fish meats, and even some shellfish. “Laudey’s men search now at odd times—you couldn’t be sure when it’s safe.”
Thella gave a quick glance to position the exits from Brare’s cave. “How recent a custom is this search? What can they expect to find in here?” Brare had been one of her first and most useful contacts. He despised Craftsmen and had few good words for Holders, despite the fact that he was living fairly well off the softhearted Igenish.
“Aye, last few weeks.” He cocked his head and regarded her through slitted eyes, a sly smile on his face. “Aye, since all of Kadross Hold’s grain was lifted one morning during Threadfall. Up Lemos way.”
Thella did not change expression as she thanked him for the chowder and blew on the surface to cool it. “You make a great chowder, Brare,” she said.
“I’d lay low were I the ones who cleaned out Kadross. I’d find a new shore to cast my nets. Lotta questions being asked, casual like.”
“About me?”
“About likely souls who’d turn renegade. They seem to want to catch a good-sized, well-disciplined band. They’d pay high for a proper lead.”
She smiled to herself, pleased that her skill had been noticed but irritated that the search had fanned out as far as Igen’s caverns. Maybe she should not raid Igen, after all.
“You been real clever, Lady Thella.”
He timed his casual use of her name well—she had just taken a mouthful of chowder, still too hot to swallow quickly. He grinned at her discomfort, but they were alone, and Brare was not fool enough to let her name drop where others could hear it. He had known who she was for the past few Turns and she wondered how much she would have to hand over before he would “forget” that he knew it.
“No fear, lady.” Brare chuckled. “It’s my secret!” He chuckled again. “I like a good secret. I know to keep it close, too. Here!” He patted his belt pouch.
Fair enough, and curiously she did trust Brare. She had paid him well over the last Turns. She took his hint and slipped him thirty quartermarks, coins he could most easily change without question. Readis had confirmed that the old fisherman had never been known to betray anyone. The old man, who moved only between his sunny place outside the main entrance and his cave, probably knew anything of interest that occurred throughout the eastern rank of Holds. She had used his information to advantage in the past.
His sharp gray eyes sparkled as his hand confirmed the new size of his pouch. “That’s a tidy price for a cup of chowder, lady.” He gave her a wide smug grin without opening his lips, screwing up the sun-scored wrinkles about his eyes.
“Not just chowder, Brare,” she said, putting an edge on her voice. “What do you know about this girl who can hear dragons?”
Brare regarded her with widened eyes and an appreciative stare, pulling the corners of his mouth down knowingly. “Thought you’d hear about her. Who tol’ja?”
“A deaf man.”
Brare nodded. “He was bound and determined he’d get to you. I told him to wait. Too many looking to find you. He could lead ‘em to your door.”
“He didn’t. I’ve rewarded him well. Gave him a hold all his own for the winter.” Brare accepted her lie with an amiable nod, and Thella pursued the information she needed. “About the girl?”
“Is that why you brought the dragonless man with you?” It was Thella’s turn to grin. He did have ears in the walls and eyes on every ceiling!
“He’s improved in health since you told Readis he was here. The girl?” She did not intend to spend the whole morning chatting with a coy old man in a smelly inner cave, even if he did make a fine chowder.
“Aye, that’s true enough. Our Aramina, daughter to Dowell and Barla. She hears dragons, right enough. Or so the hunters say, for they take her with them if there’s any fear of Fall.”