Two Queens (Seven Heavens Book 1) (19 page)

He fell into her when she arrived. Twigs, green muck, dirt—nothing took away the softness and warmth of throwing his arms around her neck again.

“Fool,” Simon yelled. “I said cobble the animal.” He rode his horse at Kerry and she shied away. A thought blinked through Orion like lightning—jump on her back, flee, be done with them. Wisdom, or fear, shushed this.

A second later it was too late. He calmed Kerry from bolting, reaching for her halter. Simon grabbed it a moment before him. Burly or not, the man was an able horseman. Orion breathed heavy, hoping this would give him some credibility.

Simon paid little attention to him. He barked orders at his men, already scrambling, as the red beards watched the show. Theo cringed from both the verbal lashing and Kerry's quick-moving hooves until Orion took the braces from him.

He stroked Kerry again. “I'm sorry girl.” He snapped the rough metal fingers around her forelegs. She immediately reared, despite Simon's hold on her head. Her legs kicked against the bonds and she lost her balance, crashing to the earth. Orion tackled her, trying to make her forget them.

It took some minutes for her to stop thrashing, and not until Simon gave up his hold. Orion calmly handed the key to the white-faced Theo. “Get me a brush,” he said, and turned to Kerry once more. The man didn't refuse and soon returned, taking care to stay out of Kerry's hobbled reach, and handed him the brush.

Orion went slowly. He brushed her everywhere, speaking in low tones and stroking her all the while. The red in her eyes slowly faded and her breathing calmed. He worked away, forgetting what lay behind him.

Simon called for camp despite the early hour. All went about their business but with eyes on the boy and his animal, curious as to how it would play out. Theo wagered Aeneas the coat was brown, not white, but the man would have none of it. “No way. The only thing white about it is the lie, and even that will leave some marks on the fool.”

This passed above Orion's thoughts like squirrel chatter. He wasn't interrupted until Desdemona gave him a cup of food. He ate quickly then finished on her coat. He looked it over. Still looking brown but he didn't mind.

He threw down the brush and stepped back. Kerry looked at him and hopped forward, nose sniffing at the bonds. “It's okay, girl, they won't hurt you.” But his heart broke. He'd never seen a kardja chained before.

He led her to the fire. “Time for her to be free.” He took a key from Theo before he was able to react and unlocked her feet, immediately snapping the braces back on his own wrists. He held the key out to the enraged men.

Simon froze, then slowly took the key. His wide eyes followed the boy back to the wagon. He looked from him to the kardja and back again. Kerry, not minding it in the least, had started grazing after a few frolics with her freed legs.

“She's brown,” his open mouth finally found something to close with.

“First brush, then wash. Let me know when we get to the next stream.” He sat down on the grass, cuffed hands behind his neck, and watched the sky redden. He sighed.

His father stood, arms behind his back, a dozen merchants standing around them. Devlin paused, deep in thought, then whistled. The merchants' laughed around him. “Is that a prayer?” one asked. “He's calling for his witch wife,” another said. They didn't see Myra take a few lazy steps until she had her nose buried in his hands.

The merchants quieted down. Devlin raised his hands and gestured for the money. “It's a fair bet. No knife, no rock, no twisting out of it. Only my teeth,” and he strokes the tall white kardja's chin.

He had told Orion later. “You know why it works?”

“Because Myra's so smart.”

“Well, that too. But the merchants don't expect it. Why would herders practice a clown's tricks? Hard labor consumes us from dawn to dusk. Why would I train a kardja? Do the unexpected and they don't know how to act.”

His eyes flicked to the fireside. Was his father right? He wished he were here.

Sixteen

“You asked for a stream?” Simon called out as he rode back past the wagon.

Orion looked up, wondering how to reply. Soon all he saw was Simon's back. He looked forward, not seeing much in front of the press of bodies and wagon. A few more minutes walk, however, changed the view.

The wagon was drawn up on a low hill. Out in front a plain stretched out, fading into the horizon. It was not much different than what Orion had seen since the desert. But his eyes were not looking at it.

Right in front of them, assaulting his ears while it grabbed his eyes, a rush of waters intoxicated him. It was far larger than any stream he had seen: broader than a pool, it flowed like liquid thunder. His eyes bounced along the wavelets glimmering in the morning sun. “A river,” he breathed.

Fear and wonder washed over him. He imagined himself breaking his chains like a corn cob and running, racing, flying to the water. Two steps, three steps, a running leap and then splash! Into its blue madness. Sinking, floating, motionlessly moving with the current.

But no. He was still chained. And fearful. Coldness, loss of breath. Monstrous fish and water snakes hiding in the murky depths.

The rattle of chains surprised him. He looked up. Theo was unlocking not his but those of the man next to him. Aeneas stood by, his most unforgivable face speaking volumes. The man stood calmly by, not trying anything.

They led him to the water and he shook. Aeneas moved in, grabbing his other side. The men at the wagon started wailing and thrashing about. Orion was thrown to his feet. The horses shied away, pulling the wagon forward. The men got louder, trying to stop as the horses plunged toward the river.

The man fought against his two captors. Simon rode to help, shoving the man forward. They started fording the river amid his resistance. A few steps in the current caught them and the man started sinking. Shouting joined the splashing.

The men at the wagon quieted down. A restless quiet. Every eye was on the three in the river. Orion looked about, wondering where Kerry was. He saw the girl holding the horses at the wagon. He couldn't see Kerry.

The men gasped as if sharing one breath. Orion looked back to the river: he could see two heads, neither red haired. Simon made a third catching up with them. A long moment later the missing head reappeared. The men breathed again, and agonized murmuring started.

Theo chained the man to a tree on the other side. He spoke with the other two then they called for the girl. A rope was set up, tied from the wagon to a tree on the far side. They tried the next man but the rope proved of little help. They then let the wagon end loose, binding the men to its end and launching them into the current. After the first two the rest caught on, rushing into the river and floating, the rope and the current working to cross them.

Aeneas refused to cross again so Theo kept on swimming the rope back. When the last man crossed he just lay there on the bank, a quivering wet heap.

The wagon was stuck in the mud. Simon unhitched the horses then tied them to the rear. He got no help from Theo. He had chained Orion to Desdemona, a fact neither of them appreciated.

Orion whistled for Kerry, leaving Simon to his struggles and Theo still half unconscious. She came loping down to him from where she'd been grazing on the hillside.

He started talking to her and petting her with his free hand. Desdemona watched him then started with her off hand. It irked him. Soon, however, he found himself telling her about Kerry, or rather about kardja. Nothing personal, just about size and weights of male and female, old and young kardja. Well, he couldn't help but point out the signs of the pregnancy.

After a while he didn't mind her so much. Her face didn't seem as gruesome as his memory told him. But her hair still disturbed him. The only other he knew with hair so black was his mother. A river to a bird's nest.

He heard a yell. Looking toward the river he saw the wagon and Simon on the far side. They were waving them over.

A mad thought dashed into his head. “Escape with me.”

She looked at him like he'd gone crazy.

“The river will slow them down. Kerry can bear us both. Flee to the forest. Hide.”

She pushed away from him. “Leave the wagon? Without food? Alone?”

“I can find food. We'll make it.” He churned at saying we. If only he was chained to Kerry instead of her!

“I can't. I belong with Simon.”

“But he beats you! You said it yourself.”

She looked down, ashamed. “What else is there? My bruises heal. He feeds me. He doesn't touch me.”

Orion looked at her. Such a fear had never entered his mind. He flashed back to the horror on Enda's face at the lawless Anatolian lords and Kerdae's cold anger. Pity broke upon his heart. But how could she prefer this? “ I'll protect you. There's food everywhere in the forest.”

Except in winter. And the trees here were different.

Her eyes flashed fear. He'd seen that look before. He was thirteen, on his first long trip with his father. Hunters.

He stumbled upon a doe and fawn through no skill of his own. He couldn't raise his bow. He looked at the doe and she looked back. Then the instant passed and she was gone, with a flash of her white tail.

He knew his response was the same. He couldn't force her. He felt ashamed of himself. Why not force her? Take her to a better place? He was sure this, this—his eyes took in Simon on his horse fording back across the river—was where he was stuck.

Again.

He looked at her and nodded. Great breaths racked his lungs, sobs in disguise. He petted Kerry and looked at her intelligent eyes. If only she were as brave as you, he thought.

Simon joined them.

They crossed the river and Orion was chained to the wagon once more. He had no joy in seeing the whiteness of Kerry's coat. He stared glumly at his hands, fingers running over the metal holding him fast.

He thought of his mother again. The girl's dark hair did that sometimes, especially when in his periphery. He thought of the curse she rarely spoke of. He wondered if that was what it was like for his father: seeing freedom just a moment away but his mother's bonds holding him back. Until death came and ended it.

He looked up at the noise of the wagon moving forward. Rising to his feet he walked along. He watched Simon riding. Hatred for him coursed through his veins. He was not a merchant. He was a prison-maker. The girl could not choose freedom over his roughshod treatment. The red beards had no spirit left at all. Come to think of it, Theo and Aeneas lived in fear of him too.

The iron bracelets holding him were smooth and, in a way, artistic in their fashioning. Yet his heart was free. He find it hard to pity the red men with their strange ways. But he felt sorry for the girl.

The next day Orion waited to be let loose but Theo never came by. His hatred for Simon fed his courage until noon where he yelled at them.

“We had a deal.”

“Shut up,” Theo said.

“I'm not done yet.”

Simon arrived. “No more escape plans. The kardja is ready. The deal is off.”

Orion's stomach felt full of cold rocks. Come on. “I guess I was wrong.”

“You were.” Simon grinned. The evil in the grin almost made Orion quit.

He pressed on. “I thought you weren't a fool.”

Simon hit him.

He fell to the ground, then stood up. “Theo, do you know anything of history?”

“Yes. Why, are you educated? Do you,” he could not hide his excitement, “know how to read?”

“Yes,” Orion answered, though “barely” was closer to the truth. “Have you read of Liam the Anatolian king?”

Simon was about to hit both of them but was too distracted by the turn of the conversation. Theo shook his head. “No, but I've heard of him.”

“Then tell Simon, if he has ears, that he almost made the mistake of trying to sell the direct descendant of his mount
as an overgrown
sheep.”

He did not tell them that by this many generations later it was hard to find a decent kardja that was not descended from Liam's own.

Theo jumped, bliss all over his face. Simon pulled back his arm to hit Orion again then paused.

“You lose at your own game. Now I know.” He laughed.

“Good for you.” Orion smiled.

Simon's laugh staggered and halted. He smiled and punched Orion in the jaw. “Good for me.” He stomped away.

Theo remained. “Is it really true?”

“Is what true?”

“That the animal of the white cloud that dances about us is the descendant of Liam's own?”

“Yes.” A descendant, but whatever.

Theo's eyes widened, then turned to drink in the kardja. Kerry belched as she ate. Dancing would come later.

Orion rubbed his sore jaw.

Theo whirled on him. “What's her name? Can you recite her lineage? How old is she? Has she been in battle?”

Orion looked at him. Maybe the plan wasn't so wild after all. “Unchain me and I'll answer.”

Fear clouded his eyes. “I can't do that.”

“He made a deal with me. So long as I or Kerry—that's her name —cannot escape he doesn't care how free the other is. Besides, I should brush her again.”

He hesitated.

“Do you want to pet her?” he offered.

His excitement built and wrestled with his nervousness. “I guess if Simon said so.”