Daughter of Prophecy (25 page)

Beyond the bridge, the battle for the wool raged full force. The front two wagons had been set ablaze. They burned busily, billowing black greasy smoke. Harred could smell the lamp oil that had been used to set them afire. Those wagons' mules brayed in panic while Ard and a handful of his drivers struggled to cut the rigging loose. The next three wagons bore burned patches amid the top-most bales, but the flames had not taken hold. Unmanned horses milled about, dragging reins. Three trappers and one Tarenester lay unmoving on the trail.

Elmar and the rest of the warriors swirled among the trappers in the narrow confines between the wagons and the rocky cliffs. Guiding his mare with his knees, Elmar fought with a grace that belied his bulk as he met an attacker. Swords rang, and the man slumped on his saddle, blood pouring from his side. Following Elmar's lead, the other Tarenester warriors surged forward.

Before Harred could mount Coal and join them, a shrill horn blast came from the bridge. Turning back, Harred saw the daughter standing on the wagon seat blowing a small horn that gave out a surprising loud sound. Another man had ridden up with two saddled horses. He had dismounted and was helping Da climb painfully on the back of one. The daughter blew two more blasts, then jumped down and vaulted nimbly on the back of her horse. All three wheeled and galloped away with Da in the middle being braced by the other two.

Down the line of wool wagons, the din faded as the attackers heeded the signal and withdrew.

That night, after wounds were tended and the mules rubbed down and fed, all gathered around a huge campfire and assessed the damage. Three Tarenesters had given their lives protecting their kinsmen lord's wool; four others had sustained wounds severe enough to prevent them from continuing the journey. Two of Ard's drivers were dead, and two were wounded. Two wagons had been lost with all their wool. Eight more bales on other wagons were burned beyond redemption. One panicked mule had broken a leg in the rigging and had had to be put out of its misery. A bad enough state of affairs, but not nearly as bad as it could have been.

After the others bedded down, Harred, Elmar, and Ard remained by the campfire.

“We were very, very lucky,” Harred said.

Ard threw more branches on the fire. “Luck had its part. But you did yours by having Elmar check them trappers.” He looked at Elmar. “What tipped you?”

Harred's brother-in-law shrugged. “They didn't feel right. Their faces be not winter-worn nor showing even a touch of frostbite. The horses not shaggy-haired enough after a winter in these mountains. The furs be cheap, not worth selling. When I smelled lamp oil and saw a torch sticking out from a bedroll, it all came together.”

Harred told them about Da and the daughter.

“Rosada tribesmen,” Ard pronounced.

“I thought those days long gone,” Harred said.

“Some still cling to the old ways.” As the wood crackled and popped, Ard chewed tabac and recounted tales of his family's experiences from the days before the treaty and the Rosada princess who had married into the Faber dynasty.

Harred listened and learned. During warrior training the Tarenester loreteller had told of the Rosada and their tactics. Harred had listened with half an ear then. Tonight, he determined that upon returning from the mountains and making his report to Lord Gillaon, the old loreteller would be the first person he'd seek out.

A rhyfelwr could learn much from these people and their well-thought-out preparations: the trappers; the beaten circle of hoof prints on the other side of the bridge where the mule had been galloped round and round; Da and the daughter's rehearsed antics to allay any suspicion; the excellent location for an ambush.

Finally, Ard rose stiffly to his feet and turned in. Elmar remained, quiet and waiting.

Harred stared into the campfire as the flames turned to red coals. “I had no idea being rhyfelwr would be this demanding.”

Elmar smiled softly. “It be like the first days of training. Muscles be mighty sore, but they toughen and strengthen.”

“Six months ago, my biggest concern was the sword bouts at the next Gathering. Now Rosada, and dealing face-to-face with Broken Stone merchants. Pagans.” Harred sighed. “Gran must be turning in her Albane grave.”

Elmar picked up a stick and poked the coals. “Last year, when she be on her deathbed, she called me to her side. We talked about you.”

Harred straightened. “You never told me that.”

“Time not be right. Tonight seems to be. She say, ‘You take care of my Harred.' I tell her it probably be the other way around. She say, ‘He is destined for great things, only the Eternal knows what. He is preparing Harred, training him.' Then she raise up and grab my arm, fierce-like. ‘You stay with him, Elmar. Help him. Guard his back. Bigger things are coming for you both. Bigger than you can know.'” Elmar stared into the fire. “The next morning, she be gone.”

They sat silent, remembering a great woman. The coals went from red to gray.

“Gillaon be having his eye on you for a while,” Elmar said. “Remember traveling to our last Gathering? He be talking to you about the swords bouts and the men you be facing and what you think be their strengths and weakness. Then casual like, he'd ask if you think Duncan's courtship of Katharine be successful?”

“Anyone could see they were not suited for each other. You and I talked about that more than once.”

“Aye. But most be surprised when he started calling on Donia instead.” Elmar stirred the ashes. “Remember Gillaon asking you about that trader from Ancylar and if you thought he be honest?”

“The moment I saw that one, I knew he was wrong. You did, too.”

“Aye. But Gillaon defended him and kept demanding reasons why you be feeling that way.”

“I had no reason, only what my gut was telling me.” Harred shifted to look full at his brother-in-law. “And the next time the trader came, he was caught with rigged scales.”

“I'll bet my next three meals Lord Gillaon already knew. He be wanting to see what you thought.” Elmar rose to his feet and brushed off his pants. “I don't know how your Gran knew, but this rhyfelwr be coming for a while.”

“Gillaon asked you plenty of questions, too.”

“He be testing me, same as you.” Elmar yawned as he headed to his blankets. “And here I be, saving your hide.”

Harred chuckled, feeling better. He remained by the dying fire a while longer, alone with his thoughts.

Overreact to anything that happens. Ninety-ninety times out of a hundred, it will be just that: overreaction. But when the hundredth time comes, you and your men will be ready.

Remembering the burning fire in Da's dark eyes, Harred tucked the day's lessons away and vowed never to be caught like that again.

Hours to the east and many lengths off the road in a sheltered cove of trees, those same dark eyes also stared into a campfire. Around him, wrapped in blankets on the cold grass, shivered the surviving raiders that had come from his family group. More than half were wounded. One had given his spirit to the Wind Giver during the ride here and now lay buried a stone's throw from the fire. At least one more seemed likely to join him in the morning. The others would live. Decart had washed their wounds, packed them with salve, and then wrapped them in boiled linen strips. Nattily had brewed a draught for pain that allowed most to sleep, although some still moaned softly.

Larbow refused the draught, preferring the sharp pain of torn and bruised stomach muscles to remind him of his failure. The Arshessa wagons had appeared much sooner than anyone had thought possible—days before all the raiders needed had arrived. But lying hidden along the trail with Decart and seeing how the stupid clan warriors were not even wearing their swords, Larbow had decided the ambush would work. It should have. Why had they suddenly donned swords? And what had tipped the one who had talked to Ren, who next to Decart was their most experienced raider? Ren could not say because he had been among the first to fall. Thankfully, Decart had not fallen as well. Ancient Rosada tactics demanded either the chwaer, the leader, or the second in command, as Decart had been today, to stay removed from the fray and thus be able to gather the broken strands of failure and reweave them into a new rope. Decart had done that by appearing with horses for Larbow and Nattily and telling her to sound the withdrawal before total disaster had occurred.

Eleven Rosada—eleven!—remained at the bridge. Six alone by the big rhyfelwr the fat Sabinis wanted killed. The warning of the bird signal should not have mattered. Larbow's knifepoint had been almost at his shirt when he had
moved
. Never had he faced such quickness! Three of his best blades had cornered him on the bridge, yet it had been like a wolf among little lambs.

Larbow shifted in anger—and gasped as white-hot pain shot through his belly. He stared into the flames, welcoming the agony, allowing it to deepen his vow for revenge.

One fine tomorrow, warrior,
he thought.
One fine tomorrow, we will meet again.

Chapter Twenty

L
AKENNA

“O
F COURSE, DOING
more than your sums is important,”

Lakenna told them matter-of-factly. “Say that you want to increase the size of your flocks. You borrow thirty gold coins from a moneylender for three years at 18 percent interest. How much new wool must you produce to make the first year's payment?”

Five students were arrayed before her on stools. A long plank served as a makeshift writing surface. They met under a felt awning stretched from one side of the foaling stable. A temporary arrangement, as were many things until the hlaford was finished.

Although her contract called for her to teach no more than five children besides Rhiannon and her two brothers, at Lakenna's urging Lord Tellan had agreed to triple that number in the fall. The current five had lessons in the morning. Most of the older youth Lakenna taught rose well before dawn to do morning chores before making the trek to the hlaford for their two hours with Lakenna. More than once, Lakenna had pointed out their sacrifice to learn as a stern rebuke to Rhiannon about her lack of interest.

It was pleasant in the open air, the morning bright and sunny, almost hot. Birds chattered, and the roses around the hlaford were in full glory. Surprised at the variety of the roses the Dinari highlands produced, Lakenna had begun making plans for a large garden. Rhiannon, Creag, Phelan, and the other students had brought a cartload of river rocks to enclose the area.

Waiting for a response, Lakenna absently waved a fly from her face. Three of the four boys' faces wrinkled in confusion, grappling to understand the question, much less the answer. But the fourth, an older lad named Rahl Digon, was with her, as was the lone girl, Vanora Garbhach.

Rahl had a strong build and an unruly mass of dark hair. He was undergoing warrior training with Llyr. Rahl's father had died, and his mother scrimped out a living with her sewing and Rahl's herding. His inclusion with the five was due to Lord Tellan's direct order. After the first day of lessons and seeing the lad's potential, Lakenna had raised her already high opinion of her employer.

“Let's see,” Rahl said slowly as he worked the problem in his head. “That will be five and a half gold for interest, then ten coins to repay one-third of the loan. Fifteen and a half gold due the first year.”

“Which is too much.” Vanora folded her arms. “The moneylender takes the profit needed to live on. My father does not like moneylenders and says that is why it is best to work through Lord Tellan to increase our flocks.”

Lakenna suppressed a pleased smile. At Tellan's request, she had spent a session with Bowyn Garbhach, Vanora's father, and the other family heads to demonstrate the harsh math of interest rates.

“Better to buy more ewes with money you have saved,” Vanora said. She was Bowyn's youngest child and only daughter. She had waist-length, mahogany-colored hair and sparkling brown eyes to go along with the ripening curves of young womanhood. As Lakenna had learned of clan custom, the maiden's unbound hair signified that her parents deemed her not ready for courtship. Still, it was plain as the nose on a face that she and Rahl were besotted with each other.