Kel could not argue with that. “There’s a gate,” he said. “It isn’t always open, though.”
“I didn’t know Ethshar of the Sands had more than one gate,” Dorna said. “Everyone uses Grandgate. Or arrives by sea.”
“The highway only goes to Grandgate,” Kel said.
Dorna considered this, looked at the towers ahead, and then at the talisman in her hand. “So how many gates are there?” she asked.
“Four.”
“Grandgate, Smallgate-what are the others, Mediumgate and Tinygate?”
“Beachgate and Northgate,” Kel said. He pointed to the west. “They’re over that way.”
Dorna looked in that direction, then shook her head. “We need to go south,” she said. “I guess we’re bound for Smallgate.” She chirruped to the oxen and tugged on the reins, urging them off the highway onto one of the ill-defined lanes that led through the maze of huts and market stalls that lined the approaches to Grandgate.
Kel looked around worriedly. In particular, he looked back at the wagon, and at Irien’s wagon behind Dorna’s. He saw the locals watching as the wagons passed by, and saw that some of them were inching nearer. He turned and glanced ahead, and saw groups of children muttering among themselves.
“Stop,” he said. “Stop right now.”
“What?” Dorna had already been dividing her attention between the reins and her tracking talisman, and this new distraction seemed to be confusing her.
“Stop!” Kel shouted. “Stop here, and get your weapon out!” He drew his own belt-knife, wishing he had a club or a sword, or anything with more reach.
Dorna yanked on the reins, then turned and demanded, “What’s wrong?”
“Get out your weapon now,” Kel ordered, as he got to his feet. He saw Irien stop her own wagon, her oxen’s noses only a foot or so from the back of Dorna’s wagon, and he saw half a dozen men and women closing in behind.
“Get away!” Kel shouted. He pointed at Dorna. “She’s a sorcerer, and if you touch either of these wagons, or anything in them, she’ll blow your head off!”
Finally grasping the situation, Dorna stood as well, brandishing the black weapon that had destroyed the Northern sentry talisman. She did not speak.
“Blast anyone who gets too close,” Kel said, as he sat down and grabbed the reins. He called over his shoulder, “Irien! Stay close!” Then he shook the reins and urged the oxen forward. Dorna swayed as the wagon started moving, but stayed upright and vigilant.
“It’s almost two miles to Smallgate,” Kel said. “We could double back to the highway.”
“Is it like this the entire way?” Dorna asked, not looking down at him.
“I don’t know,” Kel said. “I never came outside the walls. When Ezak and I left we went out through Grandgate, and anyway, we didn’t have anything worth stealing.”
“Turn back,” she said.
Kel nodded, and tugged at the reins, turning the oxen to the right, into the gap between a ragged blue tent and a rough wooden stall displaying old tools for sale. People who had been watching the whole thing reluctantly made way.
“Hai!” Dorna called, pointing her weapon at something behind them. Kel did not look, but urged the oxen forward, trying to coax more speed from the lumbering beasts.
A moment later they were back on the highway, and bound for Grandgate. The people who had been crowding close to the wagons had vanished, and after a final wary glance Dorna sat down-though Kel noticed she kept the weapon ready in her hand. Sweat gleamed on her brow, and while the weather was warm, Kel doubted it was entirely due to the heat.
“What was that about?” she asked.
“The city guard doesn’t go there,” Kel said. “They keep the highway clear, and everything inside the walls is under their protection, but that’s all.”
“So-what would have happened? Who are those people?”
Kel turned up an empty palm. “They’re just people. Some of them don’t have anywhere else to stay, so they live here. Some live in the city, or other places, but they come here to sell things. Sometimes it’s things the guards wouldn’t let them sell in the city markets. But they all steal things, if you give them a chance. They’ll come up to the back of a wagon and grab whatever they can, then run with it. Usually it isn’t anything valuable, so no one bothers to go after them.”
Dorna considered this for a moment, then said, “Threatening to kill them seems excessive.”
“They wouldn’t listen to less,” Kel said. “And if one of them got something from your wagon, and the others found out you have an entire wagon full of magic, they would have mobbed us and stolen everything.”
“You seem very sure of this,” Dorna said. “I thought you said you’d never been out here.”
“I heard about what it was like out here,” Kel said.
“You believed it?”
“It happens some places inside the walls, too.”
“Where?”
“Smallgate.”
“So you’ve seen people do that? Grab things off wagons?”
“I was one of them,” Kel said.
Dorna did not say anything for a moment, but sat silently, the weapon in her hand, as they rode into the shadow of Grandgate’s towers.
“I thought you said the guard protected people inside the walls,” she said.
“They do,” Kel said. “But they can’t be everywhere at once, and I knew where to hide from them.”
There were half a dozen soldiers in red and gold standing in front of the immense open gates, watching as civilians hurried in and out of the city; one of them waved to Kel, and he brought the wagon to a halt. The guardsman ambled toward them, spear in hand, sun glinting from his breastplate.
“So you stole things off wagons?” Dorna asked quietly.
“Yes,” Kel said, hoping she would not say anything too incriminating once the soldier was in earshot.
“Ever get anything good?”
“Not really. This tunic I’m wearing is probably the best thing I ever stole that way.”
She turned to stare at the old red tunic just as the guardsman trotted the last few steps and said, “Hai! What’s in the wagon?”
Startled, Dorna looked from Kel to the guard. “What?”
Kel jerked his head toward Dorna. “It’s hers,” he said. “I’m just helping.”
The soldier nodded. “So what have you got there?” he asked Dorna. He set the butt of his spear on the ground by his foot, and gestured at the wagon with his free hand.
Dorna looked helplessly at Kel.
“He just wants to know whether you’re bringing anything illegal,” Kel said, trying to sound reassuring. “They stop any wagon they don’t recognize.”
“How am I supposed to know what’s illegal here?” Dorna asked uneasily.
Kel sighed. He turned to the guard. “She’s a sorcerer’s widow,” he explained. “She’s brought her husband’s magic to sell.”
The guard frowned. “Is any of it dangerous?”
“Yes,” Kel said, before Dorna could react. She glared at him.
The soldier just nodded, then turned his head and bellowed over his shoulder, “Amdis! Get over here!”
“What are you doing?” Dorna hissed to Kel. “Why did you say that?”
“You don’t want to lie,” Kel said quietly. “Sometimes they have magic that can tell.”
“So you just tell him that I have dangerous magic?”
“Yes,” Kel answered, slightly puzzled at Dorna’s obvious annoyance. “That’s not illegal. Ethshar is full of dangerous magic.”
“Oh,” Dorna said. She straightened up and looked at the soldier, who smiled cheerfully at her. “Then what is illegal?”
“Swords, if you don’t have a permit,” Kel answered. “Unlicensed oushka in anything bigger than a bottle. Baby dragons. Poisonous fruit. Things like that.”
“Listen to your friend,” the guardsman said, grinning and shifting his weight to lean on his spear. “Sounds like he knows the rules.”
“Oh,” Dorna said again.