Artemis Awakening (15 page)

Adara wasn’t so certain, but she nodded thanks.

“Terrell isn’t asleep, is he?”

Laura gave a fluting laugh. “Well, if he is, then Nancy, Brittany, and Sashi are all watching over his dreams.”

Adara swallowed a sigh. The girls in question were sisters. The youngest, Sashi, could hardly be considered of courting age, but Brittany was well known to be among Terrell’s most ardent suitors. Before Terrell’s coming, Brittany hadn’t found a man who could measure up to a horse in either strength or grace. When Terrell arrived, she had declared him perfection. Only the fact that she had been barely twelve at the time had kept her from proposing then and there. Now she was said to be counting down to her fifteenth birthday with indecent avidity—especially since she could hardly claim the ability to support a partner and family that was legally required before a formal proposal could be offered by either side in the match.

Adara reminded herself that she’d faced down a war machine that spat fire. Surely she could face three rather silly girls. With that thought, she gave a casual wave to Laura and the others, then continued toward the front door.

A note tacked to the door said that visitors should let themselves in to spare Terrell getting up, so she knocked to announce herself, then lifted the latch and eased the door open.

Terrell was half reclined against a heap of pillows on a narrow bed set near the main hearth. He wore a loose shirt made from pearl-pale lamb’s wool and was quite literally surrounded by gifts brought by his admirers.

There’s cookies, loaves, and muffins to keep him for a week,
Adara thought.
Not to mention jars of jam, small cheeses, and enough flowers to blanket him from head to foot.

Little Sashi sat on the floor, the line of jam on her upper lip showing that Terrell had been sharing his bounty. Nancy sat on a chair near the head of the bed. Brittany had somehow managed to find room to perch near Terrell’s feet. All three girls had apparently been talking at once, but they fell to glowering silence when Adara entered.

“How are you feeling?” Adara asked awkwardly.

“Bruised and battered,” Terrell replied with a chuckle that made light of his injuries, “but well enough to be up and about if Helena hadn’t promised to hand me my head if I moved. How are you? That spider was flinging you about pretty hard.”

Adara noticed that Brittany’s eyes had narrowed at this reminder of how Adara had shared Terrell’s peril.

“Well enough. I wrenched my left shoulder. Annie Greengrass sent something along that’s eased it. I expect I got off light.”

Nancy and Brittany both looked as if they wanted to agree. Terrell indicated the jug that Adara carried.

“That wouldn’t be some of Bruin’s cherry cider, would it?”

“It would. Not the hard stuff. Annie Greengrass advised against that, but some that’s nicely aged. Would you like a mug full?”

Terrell agreed he would and indicated a tray that held a pitcher and several clean mugs. When he had his drink in hand, he gave the three sisters a winning smile.

“Now, much as it sours me to admit it, I need to have words with Adara the Huntress. Then I think I’ll sleep. If you don’t mind…”

His tone made these words a dismissal. Sashi was happy enough to go, but the elder two were distinctly resentful. Adara swallowed a sigh as she imagined what they’d say when they joined the gossipy flock outside. No helping it, though … She wondered how many ears would be pressed to the door, how many pairs of eyes would peek in at the windows. Never mind, if they hoped to learn something more to fuel their malice, they’d be disappointed.

When the three sisters had left, Terrell patted the chair Nancy had vacated.

“Take a seat. I’ve heard some about how the battle ended, but most of it secondhand. You truly are not injured?”

“Truly.”

“And Bruin … He is well?”

“His hair got a little scorched by the blast that caught you and Coal. He makes light of it, saying he needed to have his hair cropped anyhow.”

“Good, then…” Terrell sipped his cider. “Helena tells me—reluctantly and with a great deal of bitterness—that this newcomer, Griffin Dane, was the one who pulled me clear both of the fire and of Coal.”

“Yes. Griffin did. He’s been worried he hurt you by dragging you so fast.”

“Not at all,” Terrell said. “If I collected a few more bruises, well, I would have more if Coal had stepped—or fallen—on me.”

This last was self-evident, so Adara didn’t comment. Nor did she ask why Helena was bitter. Clearly, like Mistress Cheesemaker, she blamed Griffin for the arrival of the spider.

“Adara.” Terrell swallowed hard. “Adara … Helena tells me that Bruin told Mistress Cheesemaker that Griffin Dane will be leaving Shepherd’s Call in a few days.”

“Yes,” Adara confirmed. “Bruin and I—and of course Sand Shadow and Honeychild—will be escorting him. Bruin wants Griffin to speak with Bruin’s own teacher, the Old One Who Is Young, in Spirit Bay.”

Terrell frowned. Factotums trained with the loremasters. He was clearly putting Bruin’s plan together with the metal spider and drawing conclusions of his own.

“That one?” Terrell looked interested, but also apprehensive. “The one who knows more lore than the loremasters—although the loremasters often question his conclusions. That one. You’ll be asking Helena for horses?”

“I will,” Adara agreed. “Only horses trained by such as her will tolerate Sand Shadow and Honeychild without a great deal of adjustment. Even if we were to walk as far as Blue Meadow, we could not hope to find steeds with such training. And—well, there are reasons for our moving more quickly than walking pace.”

“On a long journey,” Terrell reminded her, “a horse does not go much faster than a human. You cannot gallop all day—not even canter or trot without alternating with a slower gait.”

“True,” Adara said. “But a walking horse can carry a great deal more than a walking human. With horses we can bring our own supplies and not need to worry about stopping in every town.”

Terrell nodded. “Good point. I have lived enough months in Shepherd’s Call to forget that Honeychild and Sand Shadow would not be welcomed in some places.”

There was a note in his voice that told Adara that Terrell had something in mind, but she had learned from Bruin’s example to hold her peace. At the fringes of her mind, she could just feel Sand Shadow. The distance was too great for her to get any solid impression, but she sensed that the great cat was frustrated. Doubtless backtracking the spider’s trail had been as disappointing as they had dreaded.

“Adara,” Terrell said at last, “when I first heard the rumors that Griffin Dane was no longer welcome here in Shepherd’s Call, I knew that I must go with him. I owe him some return on the risk he took to get me to safety.”

Adara blinked. “You would go with us?”

“Rather, I will go with
him
,” Terrell stated, “whether you go or not. I can’t say I like the man—even that I have much of a sense of him—but he ran into fire and beneath the hooves of a pain-maddened horse to pull me to safety. I cannot ignore the debt.”

“Have you told Helena?”

“I have. She is … less than happy. I believe she has gone up to the sheepfolds to ride herself calm and seek Bert’s counsel. However, although I came here to learn from her, there is no contract between us as between apprentice and master. Helena is anything but unfair. She may rage and trumpet, but she will come around. In the end, she will loan the horses you need, all the more willingly because I am going with you. Like many of the village elders, she wants Griffin Dane gone.”

Adara fought down an unexpected rush of anger. “Griffin Dane did nothing. Is a rabbit to blame when the puma hunts it?”

“Not to blame,” Terrell replied. “I agree, but is this Griffin Dane innocent of the threat he offered?”

“I think he was innocent,” Adara answered, “though now he blames himself. If Bruin and I were not delaying him so we can we make preparations, I think Griffin would have left here alone without so much as a loaf of bread or a bottle of water.”

“You admire him?”

Given Terrell’s interest in Adara, the question was fraught with hidden meanings, but Adara chose to reply only to what had been said.

“I see qualities in him to admire.”

“As do I…” Terrell gave a gusty sigh. “Then you will accept my coming with you?”

“Gladly,” Adara said. She hated how Terrell’s blue eyes brightened, but she only spoke the truth. Factotums had been trained in the days of the seegnur to act as guides and facilitators for the visitors from afar. Those who still followed the profession were skilled in every aspect of comfortable travel. She would be an idiot not to welcome Terrell’s help. “Very gladly indeed.”

*   *   *

When they left Shepherd’s Call on the third day following the coming of the spider, once again Griffin Dane couldn’t help but think how much tougher the people of Artemis were than those he knew. Certainly, genetic modifications would help, but there was a philosophical acceptance that pain and injury were part of life that was rare on Sierra.

Does this date to their lore? Perhaps because “seegnur” on holiday would not have liked to listen to whining? Or is it because they lack the pain-controlling drugs and nerve blocks that are routinely used at home? The training my parents insisted we all have—much as I hated that horrible school—did set our family apart.

Terrell the Factotum remained stiff and sore from his injuries, but he insisted that he was beyond the point where idleness would speed his healing. Without any of the pain control or other medications Griffin had taken for granted, Terrell had been up and about by the second day. Today he was riding with relative ease.

Griffin had been astonished by the man’s offer to come along with them. He’s asked Bruin’s advice and Bruin had pressed him to accept.

“Adara and I are good enough on the trail—none better—but a factotum’s training is broader based. Terrell will be useful to you both when you come into contact with other settlements and after you arrive in Spirit Bay.”

Griffin nodded. “I’ll take your word for that. How does a factotum make a living these days, now that there aren’t any seegnur to wait on?”

“Many act as guides for merchant caravans or groups of travelers. They also work with the loremasters, spreading the lore to isolated regions, searching out promising children and nominating them for further education.” Bruin chuckled and scratched his belly. “Really, if the seegnur returned, they might need to book a factotum’s services in advance. The profession calls for physical endurance, and a willingness to absorb both practical skills and a great amount of knowledge. There aren’t many qualified.”

The sincerity in Terrell’s clear blue eyes had left no doubt that his gratitude toward Griffin was genuine. However, noting how Terrell watched Adara when he thought the huntress wouldn’t notice, remembering Adara’s scream of grief and rage when Terrell had been thrown, Griffin wondered if there wasn’t more to Terrell’s offer than archaic chivalry.

Adara did not give Terrell much encouragement. She treated him and Griffin alike. Griffin didn’t know what to think of this. He knew he found Adara attractive. Those nights spent sleeping close came back to him at very inopportune times, but he was too aware of his dependence on her and Bruin—and even Terrell—to risk doing anything to offend her.

But whatever the true reason for Terrell’s offer to accompany them, he was too valuable an asset to turn away. Even so, Griffin would only agree to let Terrell come along if the factotum was filled in on the truth regarding how Griffin had come to Artemis—and why he might be a magnet for further trouble.

Terrell accepted the news with more ease than he might have if the metal spider had not made its attack. In a strange way, Griffin’s extraplanetary origins made recent events extraordinary rather than inexplicable. Terrell also agreed with Adara and Bruin that this information should be shared only when absolutely necessary.

When they left Shepherd’s Call, their company was eleven: four humans, four horses, a bear, a puma, and a singularly ornery mule to carry the heavier baggage. The mule—who was called Sam—was a difficult beast and would permit no one but Terrell to work with him.

That an animal should be allowed an opinion was a new way of thinking for Griffin. He hadn’t had much difficulty stretching his mind around the idea that Sand Shadow was a person. Adara’s attitude toward the puma had made this clear from the start. Then, too, an enormous predator demanded a certain amount of respect. Once they struck out on the road and Honeychild was not a more or less drowsy heap of fur and appetite, Griffin found himself easily extending to the bear the attitude he had formed toward the puma.

But that Sam the Mule and the four horses should be thought of in the same way took a little effort—perhaps because their assigned role was basically servile. Griffin’s horse was an aging chestnut mare named Molly. Molly was graced with a flaxen mane and tail. A wide white blaze went from beneath her forelock to between her nostrils.

Even with only theoretical knowledge of how to ride a horse—Griffin had brainloaded a course on the subject on Sierra, since his research had indicated that horses had been common transportation on Artemis—Griffin could sit Molly with hardly more effort than he might his favorite reading chair. Molly obediently followed whatever lead the other horses set, leaving Griffin plenty of time to daydream.

It wasn’t until their second day on the trail, when a sudden wind sent both Adara and Bruin’s mounts to dancing and crow-hopping, that Griffin accepted the truth. Molly wasn’t docile and obedient; she was a skilled professional who realized her rider was a complete incompetent. She maintained her poise in order to care for him, even when she would have preferred to act up. Humbled, that night Griffin gathered a bunch of young grass and sweet herbs for Molly by way of thanks.

Terrell rode Midnight, a full brother to the late Coal, although gelded. One thing Griffin gathered early on was that stallions were not usual riding animals—they were too inclined to flirt with the mares and fight with other stallions. Most male horses were gelded, unless they showed promise as studs.