Unguilded (17 page)

“Can you?” Rorik asked.

“With your advice,” Arabella said. “Yes. You know my fellow council members far better than I do—I expect that you would know
how
I should manage them in order to get the result that
you
want.”

“Why?”

Arabella paused and considered the Primus. He was suspicious, as she’d expected, but she also thought that he would appreciate honesty.

“Being a woman in Mage Guild is difficult,” she said. “But worse, I found my power late and did not start training until I was the age when my peers were becoming full Mages.” She met Rorik’s eyes. She saw understanding there, and a little pity, and she knew she would convince him. “I need allies—strong allies—if I am to survive. Who better than the Primus?”

“Why would I need
your
help?” Rorik asked. “I already have allies of my own.”

“Yes,” Arabella said. “But they are all known to each other. Sides were chosen years ago.” Rorik nodded, and Arabella smoothed a hand across her skirt. “I’m new to council. Most of them barely know me, and since I’m a woman, they will
all
underestimate me.” She gave him a half-smile. “What has always been a burden will now be an advantage. Don’t you wonder which of your allies you can truly trust? Who is secretly aligned against you? I can help you find out.”

“Because you’re a woman?” Rorik asked.

“Yes.” She nodded. “And new to council and from a small villa in the country. No one will see me as a threat. No one will suspect that I already have formidable alliances.”

“They will be circling you,” Rorik replied. “Trying to make you an ally.”

“They’ve already started,” Arabella said. “I’ve had lunch and dinner invitations, as well as invitations for more . . . intimate meetings.”

“Yet you come to me.”

“Yes. You are the Primus,” Arabella said simply. “You have more political importance than any of the council members. And we are both allied with Valerio, in our own ways.”

“Valerio,” Rorik repeated. “Finally you mention his name. Did he ask you to do this? Perhaps he’s using you to test my loyalty.”

“He’s not,” Arabella replied. “I approached you of my own accord, but I can’t imagine he would be unhappy that two of his allies are getting better acquainted.”

“No, of course not,” Rorik agreed.

Arabella met his gaze and nodded. Valerio
wouldn’t
like it, of course. She had to trust that Rorik wouldn’t tell Valerio—just as he had to trust that she wouldn’t either.

“Then it’s settled,” Arabella said. “We are friends. You will let me know when you can use my help?”

Arabella closed the door after Rorik left and took a deep breath. She hoped the Primus wasn’t in a rush to task her with anything—she did not want Valerio to suspect she was allied with Rorik. But after only a few weeks, she knew how deeply some council members hated Valerio. She may be carrying his child, but she could not afford to have him be her only ally. If he fell, so would she. She
would not
allow that.

“
GET UP.”

Something tugged at her hair, and sleepily Kara swiped at it.

“I said get up.”

A sharper tug.

“Hey.” She clutched the hand that was grabbing her hair. “That hurts.” She opened her eyes and twisted the hand.

“Ow! You whore.”

The hand reared up as if to strike her, and Kara glared at the boy behind the hand.

“Don’t you dare,” she snapped. She scrambled to her feet, still glaring at him. He was her height and only a few pounds heavier. He shuffled a little and mumbled something.

“Harb, stop that.” Vook put his smaller body between them. “This here’s Kara. She’s a friend of Mika’s. And my guest.”

Kara couldn’t see the look in Vook’s eyes, but from his body language
she
wouldn’t assume the younger boy would back down. Or that he would be easily bested. Harb must have thought so as well because he scowled at her and then turned on his heels, stumbling as he walked away. Drunk and mad at the world. It was a dangerous combination.

“Don’t know what’s gotten into him,” Vook said, more to himself than to Kara. “It’s like he can’t live in his own skin anymore.” He turned to her. “You all right?”

“Yes. He just startled me,” she said. She rubbed a hand over her hair. Would she be the same in a few years? So angry and hopeless that she wouldn’t be able to stand her mean, miserable life? Because that’s what she’d seen in Harb—the knowledge that he had nothing ahead but a hard life and no chance to make it better.

She shivered. Vook nodded to her and settled under the glowing blanket with the other, smaller children. Four heads there now—Pilo had joined them. Kara slid down to her pack. It was morning, there was light in the upside down boat, but she was still tired from her long day yesterday.

KARA WOKE SUDDENLY
and found herself staring into the eyes of a boy about the same age as Osten. A pang of loneliness washed over her, and she drew in a ragged breath.

“You sad?” the boy asked. He reached out a grubby hand and awkwardly patted her hair.

Kara smiled, and he smiled back at her.

“I’m Kara,” she said.

He repeated her name a few times, nodding. “Good name,” he said. “I’m Mole. That’s a good name too.”

“It is?”

“Yep. ’Cause I see real good in the dark.” He gestured around the dim structure. “Like in here. Don’t like outside too much. Least not until night.”

“But a sunny day is a gift from Gyda,” Kara said.

“Hurts my eyes,” Mole said. “You hungry? Vook said to come get you. Pilo’s made soup.” Mole turned and shuffled a few steps. “Come on.” He looked back at her. “Lowell will eat it all if you don’t come now.”

She rose and slung her pack over her shoulder, not daring to leave any of her things.

Mole ducked out of the boat, and she followed. It was dusk. The sun had just set, and the sky was streaked with pinks and golds. Vook, Pilo, and a younger girl sat around a small fire. A pot, its bottom blackened from countless fires, sat in the middle of the flames. Pilo stirred the pot with a branch stripped of bark.

“Here she is,” Mole said. He sat down on a flat rock by the fire while Kara stood awkwardly a few paces away.

“Kara,” Vook said. “This here’s Sidra, and you met Pilo last night. We’re just about to eat. Find a mug and get some soup.”

Grateful, Kara retrieved her mug from her pack. She waited until all the others had their own mugs of soup before she dipped into it. She smelled fish, onions, and garlic.

She took a sip. It was good, and she was hungry. Her mug was empty very quickly. Not knowing if there was enough for another helping, she put her mug down and picked up her pack. She had some travel rations still. Her hand closed on the hard edges of a book. She peeked into the bag. Her book! The one Chal had stolen. He’d returned it after all.

“What are you smiling about?” Mole asked.

He tried to look into her pack, but Kara held it closed.

She looked up to see four sets of eyes trained on her. She hesitated, just for a moment, then she drew the book out of her pack. Mika had trusted these children so she would too.

“What is that?” Mole reached a hand out and stroked the cover of the book. “Can you eat it?”

“It’s book,” Pilo said. Her eyes were wide with interest. “I’ve seen one before. Why do you have a book?”

“Mika gave it to me,” Kara said. “It belonged to a friend of his.”

“Mika don’t read so it makes sense he’d let you have it,” Vook said, nodding.

“Mika reads now,” Kara said. She stopped. What if Mika didn’t want anyone to know she could read?

“Mika reads?” Pilo asked. “How?”

“I taught him to read,” Kara said. “On the way here. That was our trade. Reading for a safe trip to Rillidi.”

“Sounds like him,” Vook said. “He don’t do things for nothing. Mika helped us get set up here, where we’re safe. Our part of the trade is to let him stay with us whenever he comes and to take in his friends.” Vook looked at her. “Which is why I brung you here.”

“And I’m grateful,” Kara said, and meant it. If she hadn’t met Vook, who knows what would have happened to her? “I’d like to stay.” She didn’t have anywhere else to go. “I’ll do chores, whatever I can.”

“Can you teach me to read?” Pilo asked. “If I could read, I might be able to get work. It wouldn’t matter so much how I looked.”

“Yes, I’ll teach all of you to read, if you want,” Kara said. She paused. “I might be able to help you with your scars.”

Pilo glared at her, her lips drawn tight. “You can’t, no one can, so don’t say that. I’m ugly, and I’m gonna stay ugly.”

“I can’t make them go away,” Kara agreed. “Only a powerful Mage could do that for scars this old. But I can make a salve that will soften them so they don’t feel so tight.”

“I suppose I’d let you do that,” Pilo said. “What else can you do?”

“I’m good at foraging for food,” Kara said. “I know a lot of plants that are good to eat—I know where to find them and how to cook them.”

Pilo glared at her fiercely. Ah, that was Pilo’s job. Kara needed a different task.

“I’m healer trained,” she said at last.

“Healer!” Vook said. “Then you’re a mager!” He stood up and backed away from her. “What do you want with us?”

“I grew up in the Mage Guild, yes,” Kara said. “I have
all the training any Mage Guildsman would have prior to finding their talent—but I have no magic. Which means that I’m almost useless to the guild.”

“Almost?” Pilo asked quietly. “What use did they have for you?”

“They wanted me to have children—to breed me,” Kara said.

She met Pilo’s eyes and saw understanding there—a girl whose mother was forced to become a whore would know what
that
meant.

“So I ran away. Mage Guild thinks I’m dead.”

“Why come here?” Pilo asked.

Vook sat down, but kept a wary eye on her.

“I met Mika on the road,” Kara replied. “He said if I taught him how to read he’d take me to a place on Old Rillidi where I’d be safe.”

“Your trade,” Pilo said. “All right. Mika’s the best judge of people I’ve ever known.” Pilo looked around at the other three children. “I vote she stays.”

The others all nodded their heads.

“What about Harb?” Sidra asked. She sounded afraid.

“Harb and Lowel will just have to get used to her,” Pilo said. “It’s us four against them two.”

Kara relaxed—she’d been clutching her pack. Thank Gyda she had a place to stay. She glanced at Vook and smiled. He didn’t smile back.

She opened her pack. Ah, there it was. She pulled out an oiled cloth and unwrapped it.

“It’s not a lot,” she said as she held the contents out. “But it won’t keep so we should eat it now.”

“You have bread?” Vook asked. He scooted over to her, any qualms about her being a mager forgotten in the face of a treat.

“Baked fresh yesterday morning,” Kara said. “Mika had a whole loaf in his pack. I think he was bringing it for you.”

She broke off the crust and handed it to Vook, who snatched it up and scrambled to his place by the fire. In moments the bread was divided up, with two pieces left for the absent Lowel and Harb. Kara rewrapped those, wishing she’d brought more bread along with some cheese. But she hadn’t expected to be separated from Mika.

“Real bread,” Sidra said. “I’ve hardly ever had it in my whole life.” She was pulling off little pieces and popping them into her mouth one at a time.

“Mika always brings us some,” Pilo said. “He’s real good like that.” She put the last of her bread into her mouth and closed her eyes while she chewed.

Only Mole seemed unimpressed by the bread. He ate it, but quickly, with none of the reverence of the other children.

Pilo served more soup, and Kara took another half a mug. She was just finishing hers when the other children tensed.

“Are you still here?”

Kara looked up. It was the youth from earlier, the one who’d woken her. His dark eyes glared at her, and his hands twitched into fists. Slowly, she set her mug down beside her pack and stood.

“Yes, still here. I’m Kara,” she said. “You must be Harb.” He looked younger and a lot meaner than she remembered. A second youth, older and bigger, stood behind him. “And you’re Lowel?”

She smiled, and the second youth, Lowel, smiled back. Harb continued to glare at her.

“What do you want?” Harb asked.

“Kara’s going to stay with us,” Pilo said.

Harb’s angry gaze slid from Kara to Pilo.

“Who says?”

“I say,” Pilo replied. “We voted, and all four of us want her to stay.”

“Who put you in charge, you scarred whore?”

Kara couldn’t see Pilo’s face, but she heard her sharp intake of breath.

“What’s it to you?” Kara asked. “I can pull my own weight, find my own food. I have other skills that might be useful.”