The Unfinished Song: Taboo (20 page)

She jumped. She would recognize the disapproval in that voice anywhere.

Brena loomed over her. Dindi scrambled to her feet, trying to guess what she had done wrong this time, to make Brena hunt her down and glower at her like that.

“Dindi, you have been chosen to be a serving maiden for the peace party,” said Brena. “Come with me now, please. I’ll tell you what to pack. We leave at once.”

He did it
, thought Dindi.
He found a way for us to be together
.

Brena strode away without looking back, forcing Dindi to run to catch up.

“We?” she asked belatedly.

“Gwenika and I will be going as well,” said Brena. She stopped so abruptly that Dindi bumped into her back. Brena glared at her.

“Sorry,” said Dindi.

“Please understand,” said Brena. “My daughter will be going because Zavaedi Danumoro thinks highly of her healing skills, and Gwenika needs a handmaiden to help her carry her things. But you are there to
serve
her, not get her into mischief. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” said Dindi.

“I will be watching you as keenly as a hunting owl watches a mouse on the rooftop,” added Brena. “If I catch you in any kind of misbehavior, lies, tomfoolery,
anything
askew
at all
, I will find out. It will not be pleasant for you. Do you understand?”

“Owl. Mouse. Got it,” said Dindi. She tried to smile ingratiatingly, but Brena just snorted in disgust and began to walk rapidly away again, as if what she really wanted to do was leave Dindi behind. Dindi didn’t care. Inside, she wanted to sing. She skipped after Brena happily. Kavio had found a way. Nothing could go wrong now. She wouldn’t let it.

Dindi reminded herself, again, not to look at Kavio. She gathered with the others of the peace party in the plaza on the Tor of the Sun. It was nearly impossible to drag her gaze away, for he looked particularly striking in his Zavaedi regalia of tight leather legwals, dyed animal teeth, feathers and war paint. The wind swept the short, loose strands of his hair back in tousled waves. His gorgeous eyes gleamed with excitement, and his energy was infectious. He held the Staff of Peace like a spear. Though he gave a speech all about caution and restraint, he looked as proud as a warrior about to rush into battle.

“We’ll be traveling slowly,” Kavio told the peace party, “because we must pass holdings of clans that fear us.
We will go first by land, then by river. We will travel half the day, and keep camp the other half.
Along the way, we must treat with the clan elders of the holds we pass. Our warriors and Tavaedies will also hunt and keep fit for battle. Not all the Blue Waters clans will necessarily honor the Peace Stick.”

She studied the other members of the peace party. It was an odd bunch, and some of them made her nervous. Brena was bad enough. S
everal Yellow Bear Tavaedies, cousins of Hertio, were going too, including one named Vultho who did
not
look proud to be on a peace quest instead of a blood raid. He looked sullen and resentful, and flashed ugly scowls in Kavio’s direction when Kavio’s back was turned.

Vultho wasn’t the only one who kept watching Kavio.

Gremo, the man tied to the boulder, there apparently as Kavio’s bodyguard or slave (it wasn’t really clear),
watched Kavio as well, though not with hate like Vultho
. In fact, if Gremo had been a woman, Dindi would have guessed he was in love with Kavio.

“Dindi,” snapped Brena. “Come here.”

Gwenika shuffled uncomfortably.

“Gwenika, she’s here as your handmaid, not you friend,” said Brena. “Give her your pack.”

“Yes, mother. Um, here.” Gwenika flushed as she handed Dindi a huge rucksack. “Sorry it’s so heavy, but it has ointment jars and stuff in it.” She whispered, “This wasn’t my idea!”

Dindi tied her own small roll—Brena had been ruthless in what she’d allowed—to the top of the rucksack and struggled to strap it onto her back. To be fair, Gwenika had a rather large rucksack herself, and so did Brena. So did the hulk standing behind Brena, the slave, Rthan.

Gwenika was the only female Tavaedi there besides Brena. Kavio explained to everyone that the mother and daughter had been invited to represent the victims of the attack on the Initiation ceremony, and also because they could serve as healers in case of any “unfortunate incidents.” No one explained why Dindi had been invited; presumably her position as Gwenika’s handmaid was self-evident. The other non-Tavaedies in the party were all ordinary Yellow Bear warriors, except for Brena’s slave, Rthan. Finally, the fifteenth member of their party was their Blue Waters guide, the gorgeous and exotic Olani. His name was Svego.

Just as they were about to set off, Zumo sauntered into the plaza. He was dressed for travel, which raised the horrifying possibility he might accompany them. Dindi shrank behind Gwenika, so he would not notice her. The effort was unnecessary. He spoke directly to his cousin and completely ignored the rest of the party.

“Good luck on your journey, Kavio.” Zumo smirked. “I suspect you’ll need it.”

“I take the wish in the spirit it was given,” Kavio said dryly. “So you will be returning to the Rainbow Labyrinth tribehold?”

“Yes. Visiting other tribelands is interesting, certainly, but I find there is no better rest than in the hold of one’s birth. Oh…
forgive
me. I should not have reminded you that
you
can
never return to your homeland.”

“Perhaps I am less timid than you,” retorted Kavio. “I’ve always wanted to see the Blue Vast. Take care nothing ill befalls you on your journey. Most people would not attempt a trip over the mountains in the grip of winter.”

Kavio strode away before Zumo could fire another volley in the exchange. The peace party scampered after their leader, Dindi with a sigh of relief. At least Zumo would not accompany them. When they were almost out of the plaza, she risked a peek back over her shoulder.

It was a mistake. Zumo was still standing in the middle of the plaza, and he looked directly at her. She was certain he recognized her; a jolt seemed to jerk him forward a step, as if he wanted to follow. He did not, but the furious look on his face chilled her. Why was he so obsessed with her? Why did he insist she had stolen something from him? She was glad he would not be accompanying them. The sooner he returned to his own tribehold, the better she would feel.

Dindi expected the party to travel due west, toward the sea, but the Blue Waters tribehold was actually northwest of the Tors, so instead, for the first days, they trod a circuitous route north, against the current of the river. Early on in the journey, they crossed their journey omen, a river crab.

“It means we will journey by river,” said Brena. “Simple enough.”

“Maybe it means we will feast on tasty seafood,” suggested Gwenika hopefully.

Rthan said, “Our people have a legend that the fae Crab Lord once asked the Salmon Lord for a ride across the whitewater. The Salmon fae first refused, saying, ‘You will pinch my head off,’ but the Crab Lord argued, ‘Why would I do that, if it would mean my death too?’ So the Salmon took the crab on its back, and halfway across the river, the Crab Lord pinched him and they both died.”

“But why?” asked Brena. “Your story makes no sense.”

“Exactly,” said Rthan, with a sidelong glance at Kavio. “Because they were fae.”

“I liked my interpretation better,” Gwenika told no one in particular.

Though the party tried to stay fairly close together, as always during long treks, faster walkers pulled ahead, and slower walkers lagged behind. They each walked with a partner, for safety. Dindi walked beside Gwenika, who looked miserable at having to endure her company.

“I’m not going to talk to you,” Gwenika announced right away. “
Not
because my mother told me to avoid you. I’m a grown woman now, a Tavaedi, and I don’t need to be bossed around by my mother. I wish someone would explain that to her! It’s so unfair, she doesn’t boss Gwena around like she does me. She treats me like I’m a baby.” She kicked a rock on the dirt trail. “What was I saying?”

“You aren’t going to talk to me.”

“Right.” Gwenika thrust out her chin. “Because you deceived me, and my mother was right about you using hexcraft. Even though she’s wrong about me being a baby
,  she’s
right about some things, and she said you tried to cheat during the Test. I didn’t believe her until I saw you playing with that horrid doll, which is
obviously
hexed, you
must
have known it, even if you have no magic,
especially
if you have no magic! How
could
you? Have you gotten rid of it yet?”

In fact, Dindi wore the doll on a leather cord around her neck, hidden under her breast wraps and sheath. Instead of answering the question, she parried with one of her own.

“Why haven’t you told your mother about the doll?”

Gwenika flushed bright pink. “She would have done something awful to you. Had you whipped or something. Maybe even stoned! To death!”

“So what?” asked Dindi. “I thought you hated me and thought I was a hexer.”

“If you think I hate you, it’s because you secretly hate me,” accused Gwenika.

“No, I don’t hate you.”

“Yes, you do! People always accuse other people of the feelings they feel. Nice people assume other people are nice, while nasty people assume other people are nasty. If you think I hate you, the only reason can be that
you
hate
me
.”

“But…”

“And who could blame you?” Gwenika blurted, dramatically and unexpectedly. “After all, you were the only one who believed me when I said I was hexed by illness. Everyone else said I was faking it. You believed me. True, you also helped me see that I was hexing myself, but that’s still not the same as faking it, is it? And how did I repay you? When you asked me to believe you that you weren’t a hexer, I refused. Oh, that was horrid of me. No wonder you refuse to talk to me!”

“
You
were the one who said you would not talk to
me
!”

“See, you are accusing me of your own behavior again. What have I been doing, except talking and talking? But you’ve hardly said a thing.”

Dindi laughed. “Gwenika, who could squeeze a word in when you talk
?
”

Gwenika looked affronted for a moment, then she too burst into laughter. “I do have a mouth like a river, don’t I? Dindi, the truth is I
wanted
to talk to you, but I thought… well, I didn’t know what to think. But I realize now, I should have given you the benefit of the doubt. You believed in me. I will believe in you. If you say you were innocent of hexcraft, then I believe you. But I hope you will take my advice. We should destroy that corncob doll at once.”

It was all Dindi could do to not clutch the doll protectively. She made a noncommittal sound at the back of her throat, a noise that could be construed as agreement by the imaginatively inclined but defended as a negative after the fact.

The peace party held to a brisk pace, though not everyone kept up. “Not everyone” being Gremo. No wonder, Dindi thought, considering he was dragging a rock the size of an aurochs. It struck her as cruel and out of character for Kavio to have imposed such a punishment on his slave, or indeed, for him even to have a slave. But Kavio seemed to collect odd and contrary individuals about him the way a little boy collected odd shaped rocks. Dindi supposed she was one of his
collection
, just another oddity he had picked up in a moment of idle curiosity. Perhaps he would put her down again when he grew bored. The thought depressed her and she tried to push it away, but as she tired under the weight of the heavy pack and the bright morning light shifted to a gloomy afternoon drizzle, her skip turned into a trudge.