The Mongoliad: Book Three

halfway.” He raised his arms again and looked at the company, rather pleased with himself.

Istvan chewed on the end of his mustache and glowered. Both Percival and Feronantus dozed in their saddles, oblivious to the alchemist’s wit. Eleazar was a half mile ahead, riding point, and of the remaining quartet- Vera, Raphael, R?dwulf, and Cnan-only Cnan regularly engaged Yasper. She liked the quirky Dutchman’s company; he had a lively insouciance and an inquisitive eagerness that made the long days and nights of their journey palatable. When she had made this journey west before, she had ridden along for many, many months, and she could recall very little of the journey.

Cnan stole a glance at Feronantus and Percival. They were alike in many ways, even though many years separated them. Feronantus was, in fact, old enough to have fathered every member of the company and, in some cases, of such an age that he could be someone’s grandfather. Percival was younger than the other Shield-Brethren, but it was his bearing and his vision that lent the impression of gravid wisdom, the sort that usually comes with having survived many hard winters. In fact, she was starting to think that he was not much older than she, and this realization had caused her some distress a few days back.

“I am quite serious, though,” Yasper continued, dragging her from her thoughts. “Where are we?”

“It’s not far now,” she replied, enjoying the consternation her words wrought on the alchemist’s face.

“Weren’t we supposed to meet that trader, Benjamin?”

“We are.”

“When? We didn’t meet up with him after the river. You found a note that we were supposed to go somewhere else. A rock, wasn’t it? Some sort of landmark that would be obvious. How many days’ journey was that supposed to have been?”

“Six,” she said. “But we were chasing Alchiq, remember?”

“I thought we were looking for Istvan.”

Cnan shrugged as if to say those two things were one and the same. “We went north when we should have been going south.”

Yasper groaned. “I knew we should have stayed closer to the trade routes.”

“We’ll be there soon,” Cnan assured him.

“You still haven’t told me where there is.”

“Soon.” She nodded toward the horizon. “Can’t you see it?”

Yasper whirled in his saddle, leaning forward like a hunting dog catching a scent. He even quivered a bit in excitement. “Where?” he said, a tiny quaver in his voice.

R?dwulf pointed, and Cnan marveled at his eyesight. She knew the rock lay in that direction; she had felt the gentle tug in her belly earlier in her day that said she was going in the right direction, but she hadn’t spotted the lone finger of stone jutting up from the steppe yet. She had been looking for it, and even though the air was crystalline in its clarity, she couldn’t see it yet. But, apparently, R?dwulf could.

“A day’s ride,” the tall Englishman said.

Raphael glanced up from the tiny journal he was constantly scribbling in. “Only then will we be halfway,” he pointed out.

Yasper stood in his saddle, straining to see the tiny dot on the horizon that R?dwulf could see. “Next time,”- he sank back down-“can we pick a target closer to home?”

Cnan caught Raphael looking at her, an oddly gentle look in his eyes, and she gave him a wistful smile before ducking her head and kneeing her horse lightly to get it to trot a little faster. Home, she thought. Where is that for a lost little leaf like me?

“Oh, my friends, I did not recognize you!” Benjamin leaped down from his horse and approached the Shield- Brethren’s horses. The trader offered them a wide smile and a wider embrace, hugging each one of them in turn, except for Istvan, who deigned to get down from his horse. “The steppe has changed you,” he observed. “Well, most of you.”

“Only on the outside,” Raphael quipped, disengaging himself from the trader’s hug.

“It is a very clever disguise.” Benjamin fingered Raphael’s plain cloak, and the gleam in his eye said he had felt the ridged texture of the maille beneath the simple homespun cloth. “From a distance, you look like Kipchaks or Cumans, not altogether unusual in this region, and this one”-he indicated Cnan-“always adds a bit of Eastern flair to your company. Up close, I would still think Cumans, what with your garb and your saddles. Most would not think twice about who you were.” He tapped his forehead. “But I have traded this route too long to not notice the little things.”

“We did not expect to confound you, Benjamin,” Feronantus explained. “We only hoped to become invisible to the dull-eyed so that our passage would not be remembered or hindered.”

“It is a good strategy,” the trader nodded. “When you did not arrive at the caravanserai as immediately as we had planned, I suspected your mission had waylaid you. When the survivors of your encounter with the jaghun started to limp through, I knew you would not dare to meet me there. Fortunately, knowing your companion,” he glanced at Cnan, “I suspected you might be able to find this place.

He slapped Raphael on the shoulder. “Oh, but I have been enjoying the wild tales that have preceded you. I have heard a number of stories about Western devils rising out of darkness, spitting fire, and walking across water.”

Raphael laughed. “I suspect the last may be overly embellished.”

“It was not my place to dissuade these people of the errors in their stories. I am but a humble trader,” Benjamin said. “I would not dream of interfering with the fabrication of local legends.”

“What of Graymane?” Feronantus asked. “The one called Alchiq.”

“An elusive ghost, that one.” Benjamin’s face lost some of its levity. “As I came east, I made inquiries and heard very little. The few who spoke of him tended to whisper their rumors, as if they were worried he might hear them. Though I cannot imagine how, as everyone agreed that he was hurrying east, leaving a trail of dead horses in his wake. He asked many questions too as he rode-too many, in my opinion. He heard few satisfactory answers, which have led others to wonder about the cause of his ferocious curiosity.”

“How many days ahead of us?” Feronantus asked.

“Enough.”

“Aye,” Feronantus sighed. He raised his eyes toward the impressive spire of the rock. “We will rest and resupply tonight; tomorrow, we will acquire fresh horses and ride on. Friend Benjamin, I would ask a boon of you. We had hoped to utilize your expertise on our journey, sheltering ourselves in the midst of your caravan, but I fear your need to stop and trade will only hinder our pace. Events, I am afraid to admit, have left us bereft of not only one of our numbers but also of time. We must get to the Khagan before Alchiq can reach and warn him. If we cannot beat him there, we must hope that his warning is delayed or otherwise ignored. Otherwise…”

“Yes,” Benjamin mused, resting a finger on his lips. “I see your predicament. My caravan can offer you more invisibility than you already possess, but it will, alas, move at a rate that will not be to your liking. If I were to abandon my cargo to one of my caravan masters, he would, most likely, rob me blind and leave my camels in Samarkand.” He shook his head. “Hardly a suitable end to a trade caravan that has gone back and forth along the Silk Road for nearly three generations.”

Feronantus said nothing, and Cnan leaned forward to scratch her horse along its mane. She-and the rest of the company-had become accustomed to their leader’s long silences. It was rarely due to an extended bout of thinking on Feronantus’s part, but more for the sake of others in the conversation. Feronantus had already considered, rejected, and postulated several possible solutions, and in his mind he had already settled on the most suitable answer. He was simply waiting for the rest of them to come to the same conclusion.

Cnan found her own readiness to follow Feronantus’s conclusions without convoluted mental peregrinations of her own both comforting and unsettling. She was allowing herself to become complacent with the company, letting them do her thinking for her.

“No decision need be made immediately,” Benjamin said. “Come. Let us eat and rest. We have much to discuss before the morning.” He beckoned to the company as he strode toward his camp.

Cnan grinned. Benjamin was a very adroit trader. He had neatly avoided Feronantus’s trap.