Nightlord: Sunset (88 page)

We headed down stairs and then more stairs.  The sleepers didn’t stir.

Outside, Tort looked up at me.

“Are you an angel?”

The question was so utterly unexpected it took me a moment to process it.  An
angel?
  Who in their right mind would even think such a thing?

“What makes you ask that?” I asked.  She shifted against my hip, trying to get more comfortable; I cradled her in my arms and she settled down.  It didn’t feel like she weighed anything.

“You’re all pretty and bright.  You’re being nice to me.  Nobody ever did that but Riddle, and Grumpy beats him for it.”

“I’m not an angel,” I denied.  “Riddle is still being nice to you—by asking me to be.”  I kept on down the street at a fast walk.  The word we were using was
arhia
, meaning
a spirit in the service of light.

“Oh.”  She seemed to accept that.  “Where are we going?”

“To an inn.  There’s a nice lady there who will give you a bath and make sure you get something to eat.”

“Can Riddle have something to eat, too?” she asked.  She sounded worried.

“I’m sure he’s been fed already,” I assured her.

“Good.”  She closed her eyes and slept as I carried her.  I wish I could do that.  Not just the sleeping part, but the trusting part.  I guess I’m too old for that.

Back at the Pig & Pony, I found Tamara alone in our room.  She was dressed in a long gown and was waiting.  I saw no sign of Riddle.

“This is Tort?” she asked, quietly.  I nodded and laid Tort down on the bed.  Tamara touched her with one finger and the firefall glow of her hair started.  The glow spread through her body and flowed down her arm into Tort.  Tort took on a sort of glow as well.  A minute later, Tamara let the light fade. 

I watched the process with vampire eyes and saw the flow of life force.  Where it all came from, I can’t say.  It looked like it just appeared out of nowhere.  If Tamara ever took it upon herself to feed me at night, I would be stuffed like a Christmas goose—assuming I didn’t wind up cooked like one.  The energies she was channeling weren’t
exactly
like the life-stuff I consume, and she already mentioned that something in my blood reacts badly to Flame, now.

“She was ill.  She will recover.”

“Good.  Where’s Riddle?”

“I put him in the care of Caedwyl; there is a bath and a change of clothes in his future.”

“Even better.  Want to take over on Tort, here, too?”

Tamara smiled at me.  “Will you bring home puppies and kittens as well, my lord?”

I grumbled something about my better nature being abused.  She chuckled and kissed me.

“How could you have done anything else, my hero?  Yes, I will see to your latest pet.  Will you wait for me?”

“Okay.”

She laughed softly and kissed me again.  Then she picked up Tort and carried her out of the room.

I lay down on the bed and sighed.  I felt good about rescuing a little girl from neglect and possibly abuse, but it was darn inconvenient in regard to my love life.

I was trying to decide whether to be mostly pleased or mostly irritated when I fell asleep.

Sunrise
came and went.  I barely even felt it.  I felt great, alive and well and absolutely thrilled to be so.  Tamara stirred next to me and kissed me sleepily.  She hadn’t woken me in climbing into bed.  Maybe I’m not too old to trust people after all.

“Good morning, my lord.”

“And a good morning to you, you frolicsome wench.  I thought women with child are not supposed to be so frolicsome?”

“It is oft the case,” she admitted.  “Yet I know only my own desires.  Are you awake and alive?”  As she spoke, one hand slipped low on my body.  “Ah, I see you are.”

“Some of me, yes.  How are you feeling?”

“Please find out,” she asked.

Sometimes, once in a while, every so often, I wonder how much the Goddess had to do with Tamara and I being together.  Am I being manipulated?  Is Tamara?  Or is this just the way things are supposed to work?  Or do the desires of the gods just make reality lean the way they want?  Free will, yes or no?

In this one case, I decided, I didn’t care.  I should lighten up and just enjoy it.

We missed breakfast entirely, but I pried myself away well before lunch.  It wasn’t easy, but I lured her with the idea of food and she went for it.  While she worked on a quick wash and dressing, I popped downstairs to have something sent up—and to have a word with Raeth, Bouger, and the twins.

Raeth was supervising the wagon loading; we were packing up to leave.  Everyone seemed reasonably cheered at the idea of leaving after lunch.  Early-morning moves were wearing on us a bit, I think.  I headed his way across the yard and was intercepted by one of the twins.

I swear, I’m going to tattoo their names on their foreheads.  Or make them wear different colors, at least.

“My lord, the minstrels wish to speak with you at your convenience.”

“Sure.  Where are they?”

“They are in a room, my lord; Caeron is keeping them company.”

“Have they been fed?”

Caedwyl—had to be him if Caeron was inside—snorted.  “They are our guests, not so?”

“Good man.  Tell them I’ll be in directly.”

He saluted and hustled off.  I went over to Raeth—who saluted.

I returned it and stuck out my tongue at him.  “How’s the loading?”

“We shall be ready before lunch; we can pull out as soon as we finish eating.”

I nodded and looked over at a pile of chains.  “Bouger get those for me?”

Raeth glanced at the metal.  “Yes.  May I ask what for?”

“Another delay in departing.  I want the wagons rigged with eyebolts in the front before we leave.  Come here, I’ll show you.”

So I did.  I wanted an eyebolt mounted on the front of each wagon, embedded deep and strong.  I figured to let the chain drag behind Bronze and let wagons latch on to it.  I’ve thought Bronze would make a good locomotive.  She ought to hasten the whole works along.

Besides, I wanted to get everyone settled before I went off to my potential doom with Tobias and the Hand.  It strikes me as a good idea to have my lover and unborn children off in a place nobody goes and nobody really wants to go.

We have a few handy folks in our little community, as well as a professional carpenter.  We had to buy the eyebolts and they weren’t cheap; nobody had them in quantity.  But that was nothing compared to the extra carts I wanted.

The new ones would be low-slung, about ten feet long, maybe five wide, with minimal springs and thin, comparatively fragile sides; no roof was required.  I hired every cartwright in town for the day, paying top dollar, and they surprised me by knocking together the things I wanted well before dark.  These would be horse trailers.  A rather novel concept for the locals, so I didn’t explain what they were for—I only explained what I wanted.

More eyebolts for them.  I should have planned this better.  Next time, I explain everything to Raeth and let him do the organizing.  The man is a lot better at it than I am.

In between the lurching stages of my poorly-arranged plan, I found time for lunch.  After lunch, Tamara went to supervise some of the activities—taking care to be inconspicuous; a fire-witch is still something Church officials go ballistic over—while I dropped in on my minstrel guests. 

They were deep in discussion with the twins as I approached their door.  I confess I paused outside to listen.  The twins were demonstrating their superior grasp of number theory by going over multiplication.  I interrupted by just barging straight in.  Everyone stood up for me.

“Good afternoon, Pelom, Belis.  I trust you have been comfortable?”

“We want to go with you!” Belis declared.  Right to business.  Pelom looked hesitant, then sighed and nodded.  I looked from one to the other and back.

“I take it that there was some debate?”

“My wife wishes to travel with you,” Pelom agreed.  “I am not so fond of it, but will go.”

“Fair enough.  Is that all?”

“I want to learn magic,” Belis admitted.  “I watched your lieutenant light torches with a snap of his fingers!  And he is a knight, not a wizard!”

“Ah, that would be Raeth with Horzun’s Fabulous Firestarter,” I replied.  “It’s a useful spell.”

“Can we learn it?” she asked, eyes dancing.

“I don’t see why not,” I replied.  “It all depends on your talent for it.  Everyone has at least a little talent; maybe not enough to be useful, but a little.  We can try to teach you.  And do sit down, please.”

They both sat; the twins took up station by the door and waited, still standing.

“Sir,” Pelom began, “I am just a minstrel with a talent for making wood and gut give forth a pleasing noise.  I know little of numbers and less of magic.  I am not certain I
wish
to know so much.  But my wife has always been a bit mad—it is the blood of the fae within her, and I love her both for it and despite it.  If she wishes to travel with your people and learn more of such things, then I will go with her.”

I nodded.  “I understand.  All right.  Wait one second.”  I cast my curiosity radar spell again, already knowing what I was probably going to find.  Belis showed up on it quite well; Pelom didn’t even register.

Well, I guess it was bound to happen.

“All right.  I’ll take you both.  Pelom, if you don’t want to learn things, no one will force it on you.  If you do, no one will deny you.  Your amusement is entirely up to you—but if you would be so kind as to teach these rascals behind me to sing, I would appreciate it.”  I shuddered in mock horror.  “They call cadence and it’s like listening to a bunch of panicked cattle.”

Pelom smiled slightly.  “I will do what I may… my lord.”

“Does that mean I may study wizardry?” Belis asked, just to nail that down.

“Yes, you may,” I answered.  “And thank you, Pelom.  Moreover, now that we have that settled, I am going to trust you.  Caedwyl, Caeron—that will be all.  Unless you’d care to show our two latest friends down to the common room and introduce them to everyone as such?”

“Our pleasure, lord,” they replied, in unison.  Eerie, that.

“Good.  Once that’s done, report to Raeth; he’ll need the help with the cartwrights, I’m sure.  These two,” I looked at Pelom and Belis, “will just have to make do on their own for a while.”

“We’re not to guard them, lord?” one of the twins asked.

“Why should you?” I asked, eyeing the two in question.  “They say they want to hang around with us.  I believe them.  I trust them.”  I headed back out the door and paused to look at Pelom; he seemed a trifle amazed.  “I trust you’ll keep us entertained while we are delayed here?” I asked.

He paused for a long second… and slowly saluted.  “We shall honor your trust, my lord.”

SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 25
TH

I
t was well after dark before we rolled out of town.  Fortunately, we were already outside the main walls, so we weren’t locked in for the night.  We set out normally, in column, and got out on the road.  Then we paused, closed up our column, and led all the horses around back.  About half of them would fit in the new carts; the other half would walk along behind.  By keeping everyone aboard the wagons—moderately crowded, but I’ve been on car trips that were a lot worse—and by switching the horses in and out of the trailers at every rest stop, I figured we could keep going pretty much solid all day and night.  Since an unladen horse goes faster than one hauling a wagon, we’d make more distance per unit of time, too.  In theory.  We’d see if it worked in practice.

I got Bronze harnessed up in front.  Four chains ran back from the custom-built iron-and-leather horsecollar; these connected to the main drag chain.  We used four smaller chains so the horsecollar would seat itself properly against her shoulders.  While I got her ready, the others made sure the wagons were ready.  We still needed a driver on each wagon—well, a brakeman—just in case we had to stop suddenly.

“Ready, girl?” I asked, patting her neck.  She tossed her head and pawed at the ground.

She loves a challenge, boss.

“You can hear her, can’t you?”

You made us both.  Yes, I can hear her.

“Why can’t she speak to me like you can?”

I used to be a dragon.  She used to be a bunch of horses.  Dragons can talk, boss.  Dragons can also hear the feelings in a beating heart.  Horses can’t.  I’ve been filled with the spirit of a dragon; you’ve consumed the blood of it.  We have a strong affinity.  Bronze was just shaped by your will.  It’s not as strong a connection.

“Oh.  That makes a weird sort of sense, I suppose.  So how do you know all that?”

Boss… I used to be a dragon.  Hello?  Remember?

“Ah.  All right, I’ll take it as truth.  Wagons… HO!”

Bronze leaned into the collar.  Slack was taken up.  Wagons started to roll, one by one.  Creaking and squealing and groaning, but they rolled.  They picked up speed as Bronze dug in and started a slow, steady march forward.  Hoofprints a handspan deep marked the hard-packed road.  She picked up speed slowly but definitely, finally topping out at what was, for a horse, a fast walk.  Any faster and she would have to change gaits.

I think she could have slowly rumbled up from a walk to a full run, but I already told her not to go
too
fast.  We didn’t want to lose anybody to a busted wheel or a broken axle.

I wonder if it’s worth the effort to install seat belts?

I rode Bronze all night to watch over everything.  The chains looked like they were in good shape, the wagons were rolling along easily, Bronze wasn’t even straining, and everyone except the brakemen were apparently snoozing comfortably.

We made a lot of miles before dawn.  Then we paused for breakfast and to change out the horses to and from the horse-trailers.  The ones now in the trailers also got sacks of oats and a few carrots; they had a long night.

Once we had ourselves sorted out from the early-morning wake-up, we hit the road again.  A cheer went up as Bronze started us down the road.  She took us up to a fast walk again and I could see her stepping a little higher than before, almost prancing, even under the load she was hauling. 

I haven’t told her, but there’s a chest full of coal and her favorite metal scraps in my wagon.  Every so often, I store a little magic in a nugget or scrap; I hope to have a little bit in each before the trip is over.  When we get to Eastgate I’m going to surprise her with it.  But I think the cheering is what she’ll appreciate the most.

Everyone was up and awake now.  I jumped down and waited for my wagon to go past.  With a little jogging and a small jump, I swung aboard the back step and opened the door.  I’d forgotten we were so strapped for space; Raeth was awake for the day shift and Bouger was sacked out, snoring.  Tamara was lounging—she got the lion’s share of the space—while Hellas and Muldo were wrapped in each other’s arms and dozing.

“Was the delay worth it, Raeth?” I asked.

He smiled ruefully.  “I am sorry that I ever doubted you, my lord.”

“Stop it.”

“Okay, Halar.  Yes, I am impressed.  We have made excellent time, and will surpass the best I have ever seen cavalry accomplish—all because of one tireless steed.  Your legend will grow because of it.”

I glared at him.  “You always find some way to rub it in, don’t you?”

He laughed, but quietly.  “I cannot help but find it amusing.”

“I’ll make the bards sing about you, too, if yo
u keep it up,” I threatened.  “‘Noble Sir Raeth, sidekick to the Wall of Blades, poniard of Honor and Justice!’  Don’t make me do it.”

He bit his lips and shook his head.  “I would not dream of it.”  But there was laughter in his eyes.

“Oh, nuts to you,” I said, and crawled carefully through the rocking wagon to lie down with Tamara.  She shifted over to make room for me and was in no hurry to get up.

“Shall we stop for lunch?” Raeth asked.

“I’ll leave that up to you; how hard do we want to push everyone?  I’d suggest it, though.  I doubt anyone is used to being cramped into wagons like this for long.  We’re the ones with space.  The others are much more crowded.”

“Rank hath its privileges,” Raeth noted.  “Shall we obtain more wagons as we go?”

“Later, maybe.  I intend to blow most of our wealth on equipment and supplies in Eastgate; money won’t do much for us beyond there.”

He nodded.  “Well thought.  I will bear it in mind.  Now, if I may be excused, I wish to review our procession.”

“As you will,” I said, waving him off.  He stepped out the back, rode the rear step while he shut the door, and the wagon jounced a little as he dismounted.

Tamara and I snuggled closer.  We had a space about the size of the back of a station wagon and a bunch of cushions.  And company.  Still, I can think of worse ways to spend a day traveling than cuddling with a pretty lady.

Pretty much anything, actually.