The Windsingers (2 page)

Vandien's face fell as Ki leaned against his shoulder and shook with helpless laughter. Several of the T'cherian diners swiveled eye stalks in their direction and regarded them with disgust. Rude and raucous Humans, profaning the art of consumption with their noisy chattering, while good food grew cold in the sand before them.

'What's funny?' he demanded, his face twisting as he tried not to join in Ki's laughter. 'Ki, you should have heard the tale she told me. How since the land beneath the temple sank, folk can hear the ringing of the temple's great bronze bell, under the sea, swung by the tides. During storms it swells to such a clamor that even animals stabled safe in barns are moved to panic by its tolling.'

'Deep within that sunken temple,' Ki took up the tale, making her husky voice deep with solemnity, 'is a great metal box, containing one of the twelve secrets of the Windsingers. If it could be brought to light and put in the hands of honest folk, they could prove how the Windsingers have forsaken their sacred trust, how they have become greedy tyrants instead of the selfless servants of the world. Think of the honor that would fall to the hero who could bring such a restoration to the world. Long would the name of that teamster be remembered, heralded as the savior of. . .'

'Enough, enough,' Vandien conceded, smiling ruefully. He rubbed a hand over his mouth and chin, and then smoothed his moustache. 'So I was taken in by some kind of a game. But what has she to gain from it? Or is she just an old crazy who approaches strangers?'

'Oh, no.' Ki sipped at her liqueur, and touched a finger to the edge of the bowl before her. She snatched it back. 'Still boiling hot. It'll be a while yet before we can eat. You may as well hear the whole tale. It isn't entirely a joke. There is an ancient Windsinger temple, and during an earthquake that part of the coast did sink, taking the temple with it. The moon knows how long ago that was. The temple may have had a bell, and some claim to have heard it ring during a storm. There may even be a metal chest hidden in the temple. The people of False Harbor seem quite sincere in believing it is there. And every four or five years, a month comes that offers an exceptionally low tide. They can predict its coming, and they do their best to hire a teamster. Some night this month the temple will be partially exposed by the sea. At least what's left of it will be. And some fool teamster will be out there butt deep in cold water, trying to raise that metal chest.'

KI sipped from her glass. The liqueur had a sweet fruity flavor, with an aftertang that stung her nostrils, not unpleasantly. 'What are we drinking, anyway?'

'Burgoon.' Vandien leaned forward to refill his own glass. 'That's what it sounded like when the T'cherian server told me, anyway. She wanted to heat it up to a boil for me, but I told her I'd try it cold. She's referred to me as a barbarian ever since.'

'I wonder how much heat it would take to scald a T'cherian palate?'

'Why hasn't anyone ever managed to haul the chest out?' Vandien demanded suddenly.

'Damned if I know.' Ki shrugged. 'That part of the story I've heard a number of ways. One, that the chest isn't there at all. Two, that the chest is there, but cleverly hidden. Three, that even if you find it, it's too damn heavy to haul out. Four, and most likely to me, is that the Windsingers don't want it found or hauled out. About the time that the tide goes all the way out, a big storm hits, with a freezing wind. Makes it very unpleasant to work out there, but some fool always tries. I understand that False Harbor has made the event a sort of festival time. The teamster never gets a coin out of it, of course, but if he gives it an honest try, the village treats him well enough. A good room and decent meals, that sort of thing.'

Vandien tested his food with a fingertip. 'Well, at least it won't be a complete loss. We should be able to work it for a couple of days of room and board.'

Ki snorted. 'Vandien, I'm not going to drive my wagon clear to False Harbor for the sake of a room and a meal. And I am definitely not going to make a fool of myself by wading around hip deep in salt water on a stormy day. I still can't figure out why they would approach you with the offer. Unless... since you've been here, have you seen any other Romni?'

'I saw Rifa, and that dancing bear she consorts with... Ki,' he continued in a different voice. 'It wasn't just the money she offered. There was another matter.'

'Rifa. Of course. She'd find this funny. I bet they asked her to use her team, and she refused, but set them onto you, to put you in a spot. She'd guess that you wouldn't know a thing about False Harbor.'

'It wasn't just the money.' Vandien mumbled it this time, with a quick sideways glance at Ki. But she was not paying attention. The drunken tinker in the other room seemed to have switched tables, for his voice, raised in an obscenity, came from just outside the room. Ki glanced at the doorway in disgust. She had moved to this room to be away from the tinker and his diatribe against the Windsingers; she did not wish to hear it. His tales of woe would be usual ones: the rain taxes were too high for a small merchant like himself; the taxes burdened the farmers until they couldn't afford even his simple wares; the Windsingers were bleeding the farmers of their hard-won crops. They were old tales and familiar. Ki could not think of any place her travels had ever taken her that she had not heard the same groans. But usually the complainer had the good sense to whisper them quietly to close friends, not bellow them out in public like a stricken bullock.

She glanced back to a silent Vandien. He had drawn his belt knife and was slowly stirring his food with it. T'cheria used no eating implements, and furnished none in their dining places. Ki drew her own short blade and speared a chunk of the food in her bowl. Steam wavered up from the greenish cube, and she blew on it cautiously before putting it in her mouth. She instantly wished she hadn't. Whatever it was, it tasted like low tide smelled. She swallowed it whole to get it out of her mouth. Not even a gulp of Burgoon could cleanse her mouth of the taste. She turned with a tart comment for Vandien on his food choice, only to find him still staring into his bowl, and stirring it moodily with his blade.

'Stir with a knife, you stir up trouble.'

'Romni superstition!' he snorted.

'What more did she offer, Vandien, beside the money?'

Slow color rose in his face and then faded. Idly he fingered the scar down his face. 'Nothing of great import, I suppose.' He stabbed a chunk of green stuff and put it in his mouth. Ki watched him expectantly, but he chewed and swallowed with no change of expression.

'But what was it?' Ki pressed. He wasn't finding Rifa's stupid joke amusing. Vandien usually bore a joke well, if he could not find a way to turn it back upon the instigator, and Ki could not fathom his injured attitude. She continued to fix him with a green-eyed stare as he ate three more mouthfuls. At last he spoke.

'I did give her my word, you know. We touched hands on it.'

'And what else?' Ki demanded, sure there was more to it than this.

'Isn't that enough, dammit? I've seen you lay your life on the line to keep from breaking your word.'

'But Rifa intended it as a joke, Vandien. I'm sure of it.'

'Perhaps. But it was not a joke to the woman that made the offer, nor to me when I gave my word. Ki, what harm could come of us taking it on? Even if we failed like all the others, we would have...'

'Made total fools of ourselves,' Ki finished for him. 'Look, I've a team to feed and a wagon to maintain. I can't manage that on a room and board basis.' Ki paused. 'There's more to it than that. I don't take those kinds of jobs, Vandien. I haul freight. I sometimes buy, haul, and sell likely merchandise. But I don't do salvage, especially when the ownership of the salvaged item is in dispute. Do you think the Windsingers would be thrilled to have that metal chest hauled up and examined? Do you think they like the idea of anyone even attempting it? A teamster has to keep the goodwill of those in power; or at least be unnoticed by them. I do very well at being unnoticed, Vandien. I don't want to change that by hauling up some Windsinger relics and turning them over to a half-crazed crone who wants to prove that Windsingers are blasphemies against nature. By the Moon, Van! Remember, I'm a Romni! That makes me target enough!'

Ki paused for breath. But Vandien was not looking at her. He had a half-scowl on his face that made crowsfeet at the corners of his dark eyes. Ki knew that when his face relaxed, those same lines would show white against his tanned skin. But there was no hope of that just now. He was listening to the drunken tinker's litany from the next room.

Ki wished they hadn't gotten into this. But she couldn't give in, couldn't let him start taking on jobs for her without even consulting her, couldn't let him drag her into things he didn't know the depth of. Damn his impulsiveness. Her careful planning of each day's travel frustrated him. He was ever willing to push on to the very edge of nightfall, hoping to find a 'better place to camp.' How many times had he teased her to try an unknown shortcut, only to meet with her stolid refusal. Well, let him sigh over her caution. Let him laugh and tease her about her wariness, calling it 'bogey fears.' He hadn't grown up Romni, moving from place to place, living only by tolerance and chance. She spoke softly.

'Vandien, my friend, the ill will of the Windsingers could follow us anywhere we might choose to go. It would not be a simple mistake, an excuse me, please and backing out of their territory. There are no limits to their influence. Once they had marked us we would never know a day of fair weather again. No one would hire me, nor buy goods from me.'

Vandien had finally turned to face her, his eyes meeting hers. But the damn tinker was making so much noise that Ki had to raise her voice to be heard. Around her, T'cheria were beginning to scuttle from the room. They considered it an insult to be disturbed while they were feeding. Ki didn't care what they thought. She would make Vandien understand her. It annoyed her that he was obviously half-listening to the noisy tinker. She took both his hands, raising her voice yet again. But the tinker's voice still overrode hers.

'And I say, burn them! Burn your crops in the field and scatter the sheared wool of your flocks. Let them whistle for a share! They want the best that your sweat and blood can bring them, and what do they give you? Only the rain and the gentle winds that are the right of any creature that walks the face of the world! Burn them in the fields, and let them sniff smoke and weave ash for their share! Keep only what you need for your own families. Let them suffer a winter of privation, such as the many you have known. Maybe then...'

Vandien seemed awed by the man's hysterical cant. Ki squeezed his hands and half-rose, shouting to make herself heard. 'Only a fool would oppose the Windsingers! And I'm not a fool. Let someone else be a hero. I just want for us to go our quiet way, unnoticed by them. Vandien, there's you and me and the team, and not much else I care for. But, dammit, I care for that a lot, and I'll go a long way to protect it. Leave the Windsingers alone,' she shouted at him, 'and they'll leave us to live in peace.'

To her sudden chagrin, Ki found herself bellowing into a silenced common room. The T'cherian diners were gone. Angry faces, Human, Olo and Kerugi, clustered in the low doorway, staring at her. Her raised voice had not only reclaimed Vandien's attention, but captured that of everyone else in the inn. The tinker was glaring at her, pale eyes peering around a hank of greasy hair. His wet mouth worked as he sputtered for words. Ki's stomach fell away. He, and everyone else in the room, thought that she had risen in body and voice to oppose him. An Olo draped on its Kerugi's shoulders twittered into the silence.

A T'cherian in the corner dropped her serving tray and scuttled out a low door into the kitchen. Ki glanced after her, wondering at her haste. Vandien was struggling to his feet beside her. He jostled her roughly as he stooped and seized the edge of the sand table. With a heave he upended it, spilling sand and food in a cascade across the floor. His strong fingers closed on the shoulder of her blouse, tearing it, as he jerked her to the floor behind the table. The first missile hit the table with a solid thunk. Bits of broken pottery and splats of stew flew over the top.

Vandien's hand went to his hip and came up empty. Even if his rapier had been there instead of on its hook in Ki's wagon, it would have been little protection against flying pottery. Their short belt knives were useful for bread and cheese but little else. As three mugs and a serving dish hit the table, she and Vandien ducked at the same moment, rapping their heads together.

'Damn,' muttered Ki, rocking back on her heels as she saw sparks of light. Several low cries of triumph came from the entryway. Whoever had thrown the mugs felt they had scored. Ki peered around the corner of the table. No one had ventured into the T'cherian room yet. They all preferred to throw from the shelter of the doorway. A metal pitcher arched toward her. Ki ducked back as it clanged against the front of the table. Her eyes flew to Vandien's. 'What are we going to do?' she demanded angrily as she saw his grin. 'They've gone crazy!'

It was just like him to be merry at a moment like this. 'I don't know, but I promise never to stir with a knife again. What did you have planned, when you so aptly stirred them up?'

'I was talking to you!' In spite of herself, she felt her mouth twisting up into a wry grin to match his. 'If you had been listening properly, I wouldn't have had to shout.'

'The tinker caught my ear.' Vandien reached quickly around the end of the table, managed to snag his food dish. He sent it spinning across the room. It shattered against the door frame, and their opponents momentarily vanished. 'It seemed to me that what he was saying was just as applicable to us as farmers and weavers. But...' he cut in swiftly as Ki's face darkened and she lowered her brows. 'Now is not the time to renew that discussion.' Ki groped around her end of the table and came up with her glass. She took hasty aim and hurled it. From the other room came the scuffling of feet as more ammunition was gathered. Vandien went on speaking calmly. 'Your words were the perfect catalyst for the situation. Not one of them wanted to agree aloud with the tinker, for in their hearts they knew the foolishness of opposing the Windsingers. But he made them feel guilty and cowardly for such thoughts. Just when they would have had to agree with him, or slink off with their tails between their legs, here comes Ki to stand up and voice their craven opinion for them. Thus making it possible for them to take out all their frustrations on us, instead of turning it on themselves or the Windsingers.'