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Authors: David Sherman

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“Doli, can’t you finish that and get dressed so the men can bathe?”

Reluctantly, Doli stood. Facing half into the forest, she wrung out her clothes then crossed the brook, swinging her hips slightly as she went. After all, there was still a chance that Spinner was looking. She might yet distract him from that Golden Girl.

Dressed, she joined the other women and flushed when Zweepee said with a sparkle in her eyes, “One might think you were an entertainer with an audience the way you did your laundry.”

Alyline simply looked away.

The men bathed downstream. One stayed at the campsite to guard the women, and a second went farther down the brook, while the third cleaned himself and his clothes. Thanks to Doli, the women had taken so long bathing that it was dark by the time the men were dressed again.

 

CHAPTER
TWENTY-ONE

“No,” Alyline snapped. “That’s wrong, it’s not fair.”

The sun was long down, and little starlight filtered through the treetops. A faint glow from the embers left alive in the makeshift hearth to keep water warm for tea picked out highlights on the six people who sat in a circle around the fire’s remnants.

Spinner looked at her, confused. “What’s not fair? Fletcher, Haft, and I will each take two hours. I’m only asking two of you to take one hour each. One hour can’t be too much to ask of you. You’ll get more sleep than we will.”

The Golden Girl spat into the embers of the small fire, just missing the teapot. “You are a fool, Spinner! You look at us and you think because our skin is soft to the touch that we are weak and unable. The six of us have been traveling for more than a week. Our pace has been hard at times. We have not stopped for longer than overnight. We have been going as hard as you, and not once did one of us say she needed extra rest, not once has one of us slowed you down. This place is the first we’ve seen where we could even bathe, and not one word of complaint from any of us. What’s more, when we stop at the end of the day to make camp for the night, it is we three who make the fire and cook our meal, while the three of you gather firewood and then take your ease in standing guard.” She spat again. “You don’t seem to understand that this shows we are as strong as you. We are capable. We can stand watch as well as you. And if we all take turns, then sometimes one of you will get a complete night’s sleep instead of losing sleep in guard duty every night.”

“She’s right, it’s not fair to you,” Zweepee said quietly. As always, she sat next to her husband.

Spinner started to object, but he didn’t know what to say. Alyline was right that he thought the women were too delicate to share in night watch. And the women were standing up to the rigors of travel as well as the men. He looked to Doli, but no help was coming from her.

Silent at first, Doli stared back at him. She didn’t want to agree with Alyline on anything, but the Golden Girl was right. “It is wrong for you to always take the watch and have no help from us,” she finally said.

Spinner looked at the other men for support. Haft was carefully studying the darkness under the trees as though already on watch, and avoided eye contact with him. Fletcher looked like he wanted to say something else, but nodded in agreement with Alyline. “They can hear as well as we can,” he said. “If one hears someone coming, she can wake us.”

Defeated, Spinner sagged. But he was not yet willing to admit it. Like all young men, he had an almost overwhelming urge to protect young women in his circle, especially the better looking ones, even when they didn’t particularly need protection. It had never created a problem for him in the past, as nearly all young women he met were more than willing to accept the help and protection of young men when there was something heavy to lift or the faintest hint of danger. That was the way of nature, he assumed, and it was a young man’s opportunity to prove to a young woman that he could take care of her and their children before there were children to worry about, as it was her chance to see to it that she was pairing off with a man who could care for her and her children when they needed him.

Alyline stood. “I’ll take first watch,” she announced. “My hearing is sharp.” She smiled grimly at Haft. “I’ll stay near Haft, and if anything approaches, I’ll wake him to deal with it.”

Haft returned her smile with a sickly one of his own; he didn’t like the idea of the Golden Girl hovering over him while he slept.

“Who wants second watch?”

“I’ll take it,” Haft said before anyone else could volunteer. If Alyline had to wake him to relieve her, he thought it was unlikely that she would do anything to injure him during his sleep.

Fletcher and Zweepee took the second half of the night.

Doli looked both disappointed and relieved that the four quarters of the night were divided up and no watch was left for her. Her expression changed when she looked at Spinner; she gave every appearance of thinking that she would now have the entire night to entice him.

“Wake me well before dawn,” Spinner said gruffly. “I will stand the last watch.”

Alyline gave him a smile. “See? With more people sharing watch, we will all get enough sleep tonight.”

Spinner stifled a groan as he turned away from her and curled up next to the fire, where he could sleep alone. “Go away,” he said in a low, annoyed voice.

Doli started. She hadn’t thought she was close enough for him to hear her approach. She turned away with an expression of chagrin and found a space to lay down alone.

 

During his time with the Frangerian Marines, Spinner had always hated being assigned last watch; the man who pulled last watch was woken too early to have had a full night’s sleep and wouldn’t have a chance to return to sleep after the watch. And the quiet darkness before the sun rose was a difficult time to stay awake. But last watch was also the most dangerous time of the night, the time when raiders were most likely to strike. Fate had put him in charge, made him responsible for the safety of the people in their small group. It was a responsibility he hadn’t sought, one he didn’t want. But everyone seemed willing to take his lead—at least no one had stepped forward to challenge his leadership. Since he seemed to be in charge, Spinner felt he should be the one to guard his sleeping companions when they were at their most vulnerable. But that night he also thought last watch would be the best time for him to think about what might lay ahead of them and to plan.

Spinner was glad that Doli hadn’t drawn one of the watches; she would have wanted to stay awake talking with him, perhaps even attempting to do things other than talk. Either way, her attentions made him uncomfortable. He wished Alyline had the watch before his, then he could . . . No, that was the same thought he’d had about Doli. It was just as well it was Zweepee who woke him; had it been Alyline, he knew he would have wanted to pay attention to her. He couldn’t afford that distraction any more than he could Doli’s attention.

So Zweepee woke him, stayed close long enough for him to stand up and assure her he was fully awake, then went back to the bedding she shared with her husband.

Spinner stretched a bit to loosen muscles that had stiffened in sleep, then walked softly around the small campsite. As soon as he knew precisely where everybody lay sleeping, he slowly walked in a circle around the group, stopping frequently to listen to the night. Few sounds disturbed the quiet. A hunting owl hooted in a tree, a bat squeed, a prey animal screamed briefly when a hunter caught it. The distant noises of restless people to the east told him where the highway was. Otherwise all was quiet.

So he thought. Where were they going? To Zobra. Why? To catch a ship home—at least one going to Frangeria, which might be the same thing as going home. What was happening between where they were and the port of Zobra City? That was the big question. The Jokapcul obviously had not ended their invasion of southwestern Nunimar with the occupation of New Bally and the conquest of the Duchy of Bostia; they had invaded Skragland and Zobra as well. But where in Zobra were they? Except for the dead Zobran warders they’d run across two days earlier, the travelers hadn’t seen any sign of fighting. There were the faint sounds they’d heard yesterday, and there was the unnatural silence in this area when they arrived the previous evening, but nothing else to tell him where fighting might be.

What kind of planning could he do? He had no idea what to do, except to continue south. What would they do if Zobra City was in the hands of the Jokapcul? That possibility was something he didn’t want to think about. If Zobra City was taken, he suspected the way to the Princedons, on the large peninsula southeast of Zobra, would be blocked. He didn’t think they could turn and go back the way they’d come; of the many rumors they had heard when they first reached the highway, the one he most believed was that the Jokapcul had invaded Skragland from Bostia. If Zobra City was in Jokapcul hands, the way to the Princedons blocked, and Skragland invaded, perhaps fully occupied, then the Low Desert would be their only route to freedom. Maps he had seen told him the Low Desert led only to the High Desert. He knew nothing of how to survive in the desert, high or low, and he didn’t think any of the people with him did either. So he had no idea what to do if Zobra City was taken.

But before thinking of what to do in that case, they had to get to the port. That meant continuing south. Toward where they had heard the distant sounds of fighting. How to avoid Jokapcul patrols—that was what he needed to think about and plan for.

He was still thinking and coming to no conclusions when the rising sun woke the forest birds, whose greeting cries woke the other people.

Spinner feared what the morning would lead them to.

 

They made little conversation when they ate the cooked venison and half-cooked tubers left over from the previous day. The men kept looking warily to the south, and the women looked in that direction nervously. They all wondered what the day would bring: the men, how many enemies they might have to fight; the women, whether any of them would live to see another sunrise. Except for the Golden Girl; to Spinner, Alyline seemed confident. Perhaps she was looking forward to the chance for revenge against slavers or Jokapcul.

The morning mist wasn’t completely burned off by the time they saddled their horses and tied their small amount of gear on them. Without a word, Haft led the way on foot. Spinner followed, also afoot, not far behind him. Fletcher brought up the rear on horseback. Alyline, mounted on the stallion, took the gelding by its reins and led him. The early morning forest was alive with bird song, the chitterings of tree dwellers, the buzz of insects, the triumphant cry of a hunting cat over its kill. The normal forest sounds did nothing to ease anyone’s tension. Spinner looked carefully, but no flash of gray told him the wolf was still traveling with them. He wondered if the wolf had merely been escorting them through its range. Perhaps they were beyond its territory.

As they proceeded south, the normal forest sounds diminished. At midmorning the caws of buzzards sounded ahead of them.

 

The caws suddenly became angry screams, and a great flapping of wings resounded through the forest. Spinner and Haft dropped to their knees behind bushes and readied their crossbows. They looked forward intently. Thirty or so paces ahead the light filtering through the treetops seemed brighter; there was probably a clearing just beyond view. Spinner turned and signaled the others to hold and be ready for whatever came next. Then, in a low crouch, Haft ran softly ahead fifteen paces, lowered himself to the ground, and rapidly crawled to where he could see into the clearing. Spinner covered him, then dashed forward when Haft stopped behind a tree at the edge of the clearing.

There had been a battle. Bodies were strewn about the clearing. From the uniforms on the corpses, it was obvious it hadn’t been as one-sided a fight as the earlier one. Nearly half of these dead were Jokapcul. There were two barely seen bodies just inside the trees at the far side of the clearing; perhaps the fight had turned into a running battle.

The wolf that had been pacing the small party was already in the clearing, chasing away the last of the vultures. Then it sat in the middle of the clearing, looked straight at where Spinner and Haft lay hiding behind bushes and said,
“Ulgh!”

“It’s coincidence,” Haft said softly. “Tell me it’s coincidence. Tell me it’s not the same wolf that’s been following us. Tell me it’s not the same wolf that chased the vultures away before.” He aimed his crossbow at the wolf.

Spinner put out a hand and shook his head. “That’s the same wolf. I think he’s trying to tell us he’s on our side.” He stood, took his fingers off the trigger of his crossbow and walked into the clearing. It seemed to him that the wolf behaved more like a very well-trained hunting dog than any wild animal he’d ever seen. It must be sorcery, he thought. But good sorcery or bad?

He stopped two paces from the wolf. “You’re not an ordinary wolf, are you?” He made a show of pointing his crossbow down and to the side. The wolf sat on its haunches. Spinner watched it closely; if he wasn’t prepared, the wolf could easily be at his throat before he had time to react. Instead of leaping, the animal flopped onto its side then rolled onto its back with its legs splayed: it was indisputably male. Its tongue lolled out of its mouth, and its remarkably intelligent eyes looked directly into Spinner’s.

Spinner stared back. Finally he said, “No wild wolf would look a man in the eye the way you do. No wild wolf would feel secure with a man looking him in the eye. To a wild wolf, when you look in the eye it means you’re about to attack. Right?”

The wolf said,
“Ulgh!”
and swished its tail from side to side on the ground.

Moving slowly, Spinner halved his distance to the wolf, lowered himself to one knee and stretched out a hand to rub the wolf’s belly. “And no wild wolf would expose its belly to a man either.”

The wolf arched his back to press its belly into Spinner’s hand and growled softly, almost a purr.

Spinner thumped the animal once on the chest and stood up. “All right, fellow, you can travel with us.”

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