Progeny (The Children of the White Lions) (83 page)

A lack of basic supplies had forced the company to move into Fernsford rather than around it. Sergeant Trell had offered to take the soldiers through the city and meet the rest of them on the other side but, remarkably, Broedi had said no, he wished to move through the city together. Kenders and her brothers had been surprised. Broedi had avoided Lakeborough. They expected the same here.

Taking a deep breath, she turned to Nikalys and murmured, “What if this doesn’t work?”

Nikalys glanced over at her, scratched his chin, and said, “It will work.” He sounded less confident than she would have liked.

“How can you be sure?”

On the other side of Nikalys, Jak leaned forward, his saddle leather creaking, and answered for his brother.

“Be ready if it doesn’t, though. We might need you to do to the whole city what you did to the Southern Arms.”

Kenders blinked twice before saying, “Are you mad? I can’t do that to a whole…” She trailed off as a smile spread over both her brothers’ faces. “You are a lout, Jak.” As they exchanged a quick look and a quiet chuckle, she glared Jak and said, “Perhaps you’d like to walk through the city naked? I bet I could manage one Weave of Will…”

Jak looked back to her. Seeing the humorless expression on her face, his smile quickly faded.

“You wouldn’t.”

“Are you sure?”

“That would be unwise, uora,” rumbled Broedi. The hillman strode next to Smoke, holding the horse’s halter as he walked. “There are Constables here.”

Turning to her right, she begged, “Please, Broedi?”

The hillman turned to meet her gaze.

“No.”

Before leaving this morning, he ordered both her and Nundle to forget they knew anything about magic until he told them otherwise. Jak had not been there for that discussion, however.

She gave Broedi a quick wink, pleading, “Just one Weave? I promise to keep it small.”

After a moment, Broedi rumbled, “Perhaps one, then.”

Jak leaned forward in his saddle to peer around Kenders.

“You’re jesting!”

The hillman shifted his gaze to Jak. After a long moment, a slight smile spread over his lips. Facing forward again, he said, “Yes, uori. I am.”

Jak let out a sigh of relief and sat back in his saddle.

“Not funny.”

Enjoying her brother’s momentary unease, Kenders looked at the hillman and said, “I would like to point out that you once told me you don’t mock.”

Broedi shook his head.

“I do not mock.”

“Then what was that?”

“That was jesting,” said Broedi with a slight grin. “There is a difference.”

Smiling, Kenders shook her head and directed her gaze to the column’s front. Her grin fell away as he worries came rushing back.

“Broedi, is this safe?”

“It is what we must do.” He turned to eye the siblings. “And as long as you look less guilty than you do now, we should be fine.” He looked past them to where Nundle and Sabine rode behind the trio of Isaacs. Helene sat in Sabine’s lap. “The same goes for you three as well.”

To a man, woman, child, and tomble, they all nodded.

“Now, please remain quiet as the sergeant gets us past the guards.”

Emerging from the dip in the road, Kenders stared at the three men riding at the head of the column. Sergeant Trell was to the far left, still wearing the uniform of a footman. In the center, the soldier she knew only as Blainwood appeared to be in command of the company as he wore the uniform of a Southern Arms’ Master Sergeant. No one had taken the uniform of the lieutenant, figuring it would draw too much scrutiny. The final member of the front trio was Cero, sitting stiffly in his saddle, his back bound tight with rags beneath his Constable grays. He was well enough to travel, but he was going to need a few more Weaves of Life. The knife wound had been deep.

Frowning, Kenders whispered, “Are you sure we can we trust Cero, Broedi?”

“As much as we can any of these men.” He stared at her. “Now,
please
remain quiet. I am trying to listen.”

Kenders nodded, praying that he was right.

Cero had been quite surprised when they shook him awake this morning by the river, as he believed he had perished on the Fernsford Bridge. She and her siblings, Broedi, Nundle, and Sergeant Trell sat with him as he repeatedly apologized for his behavior, professing his desire to help and swearing he would do whatever he could to prove himself. Sergeant Trell announced his immediate belief in the man and Broedi liked the idea of having another person able to sense magic. Nundle and Nikalys had their reservations, but they lost the short debate as she and Jak cast their lot with Cero.

After binding Cero’s wound as best they could, they struck camp and headed for Fernsford, their pace quick. Without knowing how far away Jhaell Myrr was, it was impossible to determine exactly when the Soulwraith would reach the saeljul. Everyone expected that once it did, Jhaell would follow, using the same manner to travel to the region that had brought Zecus to the Southlands.

Kenders shuddered and looked over her shoulder to the northern horizon. Only twenty of the soldiers were behind them, lining the dirt road that ran up the hill before disappearing into the forest. For all she knew, the saeljul could be just over that rise.

As she stared back, her gaze fell on Zecus. The Borderlander had volunteered to ride with the rear guard this morning, anxious to help in any manner he could. She thought it very brave of him. He had been spending a lot of time with them as he and Jak had struck up a friendship. Some evenings, he would sit with them and Sabine, sharing stories about his home and life in the Borderlands.

He caught her eye, nodded his head, and smiled. Her cheeks and neck suddenly felt warm. Smiling back, she started to turn around when her gaze met Sabine’s. Something in her friend’s eyes made her stop.

A coy smile on her lips, Sabine asked, “What were you looking at?”

The flush in Kenders’ cheeks deepened.

“The road.”

Sabine lifted an eyebrow.

“Ah…The road. Of course.”

Kenders glared at her friend.

“I was.”

Sabine shook her head, saying, “I didn’t say weren’t.”

Broedi rumbled, “You two seem to have a different understanding of ‘quiet’ than I do.”

Staring back at the hillman, Kenders murmured, “Sorry.”

Broedi said nothing in response, his gaze on the guards. As Sabine muttered a quiet apology as well, Kenders shot one last terse look toward her friend. Sabine winked back. Nundle, riding on his small horse beside her, was smiling at her, too.

Feeling her brothers’ eyes on her, she turned to them and raised her eyebrows, daring them to say something. After a moment, the pair faced forward, amused grins affixed to their faces. With a huff, Kenders joined them in staring at Fernsford.

‘Sergeant’ Blainwood was speaking with the guards now. Using the story Broedi gave the man last night, he was to explain that they were a company of Arms from Prince’s Port on their way to Fargrove, a city on the western coast of the Southlands. Kenders and the rest of the non-soldiers were travelers on their way to Fargrove as well, and were moving with the soldiers simply for safety’s sake.

Assuming the guards accepted the story, the group would move into the city at which point the soldiers and Nundle would head to the marketplace while everyone else was to find a quiet tavern and wait—out of sight—until the soldiers had replenished their supplies. There had been a brief moment of consternation last night regarding how the company was to pay for their purchases when Nundle had jumped up and run to his saddlebags. He returned, stunning everyone as he brought with him a large sack of gold. The tomble offered to pay for everything.

Thankfully, the city guards did not appear overly interested in the column and waved them past without much pause. As the horses in front of her moved, Broedi glanced at them all and said, “Smile, please.”

Kenders forced a tiny grin on her face as they passed the guards, and managed to say, “Good days ahead.”

One of the men smiled wide at her and said, “And good memories behind, miss.” The wink accompanying the greeting earned the man a hard look from her brothers.

The guards examined Nundle and Broedi closer than the rest of them, but let the odd pair pass without a verbal challenge. Kenders thought that if this truly were part of a joint infiltration exercise between the two duchies, the Southlands would be failing miserably.

Once past the guards, Kenders relaxed and studied the city ahead, still a half-mile down the road. The buildings here were much different from the tiny homes of Yellow Mud or the flat-topped structures in Smithshill. The houses and shops had sharp-angled roofs, some rising into peaks while others were but a single, graceful slope on one side. Every building here was at least two stories tall—with some reaching as many as five floors—and constructed almost entirely of wood. In most cases, the first floor of a building was a few feet smaller all around than the floors above it, giving the appearance that the houses were carefully balanced, poised to fall over. The wood and plaster walls were a mix of creamy whites or tans, crisscrossed with wide beams of black wood.

The place was certainly foreign, but overall, Kenders liked it much better than Fallsbottom. The fact that she was not dripping wet had a lot to do with that.

Curious what the Moiléne sisters thought of their first city, Kenders swiveled in her saddle and looked back. Helene’s grip on her sister’s forearms was tight and her eyes wide. Sabine’s lips were parted as she stared. Kenders imagined she had looked the same when she had first stared at Smithshill.

As they moved into the city proper, Nikalys and Jak fell back to ride on opposite sides of Sabine, leaving Kenders alone with Broedi. Nikalys would occasionally lean over and whisper to Helene, trying to get the little girl to smile and relax and, after a while, it began to work. Soon, both sisters had settled down and even seemed to be enjoying the strangeness of the city.

The people of Fernsford were friendly, nodding and wishing them all ‘Good days ahead’ as the column rode past. Besides the beards on the men and a slight difference in fashion, the Southlanders were refreshingly similar to Great Lakes citizens. Broedi and Nundle continued to draw more than a few long stares.

As the company headed for the market district, they passed through a section of the city where the style of architecture was slightly different. The buildings were taller and wider on average and appeared to have less wear.

Upon noticing the differences, Kenders felt a flicker of excitement. Staring at Broedi, she asked, “There was a fire here, wasn’t there?”

The hillman glanced at her and, with a hint of surprise in his voice, said, “Yes, there was. A few decades ago. How did you know?”

Peering around her, she said, “Our parents said they met here, but they left after a great fire.” She quickly clarified, “And I do not mean Aryn and Eliza.”

Smiling, Broedi rumbled, “I understand your meaning.” He peered at her closely. “It is interesting that they were here during the fire. Gamin, the head of the…ah…instructors at the enclave—” Kenders knew he meant mages “—was here as well. He and his brother, Sevan. Sons of a baker, I believe.”

“Will Gamin be one of my teachers, Broedi?”

The hillman nodded and rumbled, “He will, uora. Although not your first.” A smile touched his lips. “I have someone else in mind for that.”

“Who?”

He looked over and said, “I believe I will keep that secret, uora.”

With a frown and a sigh, Kenders asked, “Why?”

His grin spread wider than normal.

“Some surprises are worth the wait.”

She shook her head, mildly frustrated, and turned her attention back to the newer buildings. After a few moments, she mused, “It’s hard to learn that so much of your history was a lie.”

“Take comfort in knowing that at least some of it is true.”

“Where does truth end and playman’s tale begin?”

“Does it matter?” rumbled the hillman. “Your parents loved you. And
I
mean all of them. That is what is important.”

Overcome by a sudden burst of melancholy, she sighed and looked back to her brothers, both of whom were looking around at the bustling city, pointing out things to one another and the Moiléne sisters. A few heartbeats passed before she faced forward. Neither she nor Broedi said another word until they reached the open-air market.

The soldiers tied their horses to one of the numerous hitching posts flanking the long rows of vendor stalls and gathered in a group. Nundle, the former merchant and the soul with the coin, was to go with them. As they were assembling, Kenders asked the tomble to purchase a new cord to bind her hair. Her last one had snapped and she was tired of having hair in her face.

While Sergeant Trell talked with the soldiers, discussing what they were to look for and purchase, Broedi turned to the remaining group.

“Come with me.”

The Isaacs, Moilénes, and Zecus followed the hillman through several streets, past all sorts of tradesmen and odd shops. Broedi turned from the congested ways, led them down an almost deserted side alley, and stopped beneath a wide sign hanging low over the street. Tilting her head back, Kenders saw the faded painting of a man dressed in green robes, sitting on a stool and resting his arm on the back of a deer.

The hillman faced them and said, “Tie your horses and go inside. Find a corner table, order something to eat if you like, but say nothing to anyone. Do you understand?”

Alarmed, Kenders shared a worried look with her brothers.

Sabine voiced the question they were all thinking.

“You aren’t coming in with us?”

Shaking his head, Broedi rumbled, “I am not.”

“Why?” asked Nikalys.

“Because I am not.

“That’s not an answer, Broedi,” said Jak.

“I know.”

Frowning, Nikalys sighed and muttered, “Ever the secret-keeper, aren’t you?”

“I have reasons, uori.”

“When will you be back?” asked Kenders worriedly.

“I will not be gone long. I promise.”

Zecus asked politely, “Do you require assistance, great lion?” Yet again, the Borderlander had not called Broedi by his name.