'What do you figure is so important about this cargo that it has to reach the city in such a short time?' Mika asked, suddenly losing his appetite and giving the remainder of his meal to Tam.
'Who knows?' answered Hornsbuck, easing the heavy beaten metal buckle that cinched the leather tunic around his ample girth. 'Guildsmen. Merchants. Pah! What kind of life is that for a man, mewling and haggling over cloth and foodstuffs and fancies that no one really needs. And for what, piles of coins! Fie! May the Great She Wolf take them all and lose them in the forest!'
'You think that's all it is?' Mika persisted. 'I wouldn't think that even a Guildsman would ask us to take this risk for profit alone. It has to be something more.'
'Don't go looking for trouble, lad. It will find you soon enough all on its own,' advised Hornsbuck, growing more mellow as he quaffed his brew. 'If there were something valuable on board, we'd know about it. Yon narrow- nose Guildsman would have told us to keep a special eye out, but he has not. This caravan is no different from a hundred others. Go to sleep, lad. Save your strength for the morrow.'
But Mika could not stop thinking, and long after Hornsbuck had lapsed into a nest of deep, rumbling, mead- scented snores, Mika lay awake, his arms laced behind his head, staring up at the night sky, pondering the problem.
Hornsbuck's analysis of the situation appeared sound, with one exception-the heavily laden, squeaking wagon. It
Mika had continued to observe the wagon all day long and noted that even though it was heavily weighted, it kept pace without difficulty, thanks no doubt to the extra pair of mules.
Although he could find no complaint with its speed, the shrill screeching of the axle signaled their presence to every brigand and rogue within hearing distance. What could the wagon hold that would weigh it down so?
Perhaps it was gold. Gold bars were very heavy and would certainly weigh a wagon down and cause the Guildsman to take great risks. No doubt it was being sent to ransom the supposed mysterious princess who had been kidnapped and was being held somewhere by who knows what variety of fiends. Mika would rescue her, slay the brutes, and have the gold-and the royal beauty-as his reward…
Or maybe it was precious stones being sent to Eru-Tovar to pay homage to a god some nobleman had offended. es, that was it. Enor was right. There was no princess. The dead messenger was just trying to sidetrack the Wolf Nomad and appease his gods. But Mika could think of no god who could not be honored in Yecha as well as Eru-Tovar, the gods being much the same, with the exception, Mika shuddered at the thought, of Iuz, demi-god of oppression, deceit, and pain.
Many of those who worshipped the dark god made their home in Eru-Tovar. But why would anyone make an offering to Iuz? Many answers, all unpleasant, immediately filled Mika's mind before he could turn his thoughts in another direction.
'Hornsbuck, you know that wagon, the one that squeaks…' Mika began, but only snores replied, erupting from the nomad's slack lips.
'Come on, Tam,' Mika said, determined to have a talk with the driver of the wagon. Maybe he could learn something about the cargo and either confirm or deny his suspicions.
Most of the drivers had abandoned their wagons and were lounging about the central fire finishing their meal. Some few were casting knucklebones with the nomads, thinking them dull country fellows, but Mika knew from long practice, that his fellow nomads could hold their own gambling with any race and likely emerge winners.
The men crouched on their knees in a circle that had been swept smooth of grass and stone and were throwing a pair of highly polished knucklebones, the ridges of which had been incised with various numbers. The idea was to bet correctly on which combination of numbers would land face up. Nomad pouches would be many grushnicks heavier by morning.
The wolves were curled up near their chosen humans, licking their rough footpads and grooming their thick pelts. Some were already asleep, noses tucked beneath their thick brushy tails.
The driver of the squeaking wagon had not joined his associates in their various endeavors but instead sat upon the hard seat of his wagon, alert and watchful.
'Ho, driver,' Mika hailed the man in a friendly manner. 'How went your journey today?'
'Well enough,' the driver said grudgingly, seemingly reluctant to pass even those few words.
'Good,' said Mika. 'But I think that you would do even better tomorrow if you did not have such a heavy load to pull. Share your load out among the other wagons tonight so that the weight is more evenly distributed.'
'No,' said the driver in a steady voice.
'What?' said Mika, startled. Drivers were generally no more than drunkards off the streets or out of the jails who agreed to take the job rather than rot in prison. They had little or no character and usually vanished into the nearest tavern as soon as they reached their destination. There, they drank themselves into oblivion until their funds ran out and they were tossed in jail once more, their only escape another driving job. None had the spine to stand up to a Wolf Nomad, much less defy one!
Mika gaped at the man, then repeated his request a little less pleasantly, thinking that perhaps the man had misunderstood.
'No,' the man said quite clearly, not at all intimidated by Mika's manner. 'My beasts are able to bear the load. They will keep up with the rest.'
'But you are very heavily weighted,' persisted Mika, wondering at the man. 'The axle squeals as though it is in pain. Aside from the fact that the strain might break the wheel and cause us to waste valuable time, the noise alone could easily attract just the sort of villains we seek to avoid.
'Do not be a stubborn man. I am commander of the caravan, and I am giving you a direct order to divide your load among the other wagons. Just what is it you carry that is so damned heavy?'
'No,' repeated the man for the third time as though he had not heard any of what Mika had said. 'I will not shift the load, and what I carry is none of your concern.' And his hand tightened on the handle of his knife.
Mika's eyes bulged and he took an angry step toward the man, his hand shifting to the handle of his own knife. Tam snarled and paced restlessly, awaiting Mika's command.
Mika reached out, intending to pull the man from his seat and thump him on his ears to improve his hearing, which was obviously faulty. But before he could do so, the Guildsman appeared out of the shadows at the rear of the wagon.
'What's the problem, now, Master Wolf?' he asked coldly, giving a sarcastic twist to the title, deliberately removing any hint of respect from his voice.
'I gave this man a direct order and he defied me!' Mika said in a strangled voice. TamTur started a growl that rumbled deep in his throat, adding his quiet menace to Mika's words.
'What's the problem, Cob?' the Guildsman asked, directing his question to the driver in a normal tone of voice.
'He told me to divide my load. I said no,' replied the driver, his hand still on the handle of his knife.
'Quite right,' agreed the Guildsman. 'This load is not to be touched until we reach Eru-Tovar.
'But it is too heavy,' said Mika, his face growing flushed. And he repeated his earlier arguments.
'No,' said the Guildsman. A sneer spread across the driver's face.
Mika started to speak, then stopped, a smile crossing his own lean features. No need to get into a fight that he could not win. Their voices had already attracted the attention of several nomads and drivers. After all, he thought smugly, there was more than one way to skin a rabbit.
'All right,' he said calmly. 'But be warned, if there
Late that night, after the last of the grumbling gamblers was sound asleep and the fire had burned down to embers, Mika rose from his bedroll as though he were going to relieve himself, and slipped into the darkness that lay beyond the wagons. He paused to make certain that no one had noticed or followed him, then quietly made his way round the perimeter until he was within two wagon lengths of his goal.
Stealth was a skill that Mika excelled at, somewhat surprising in a man of his great size. But he could rival even TamTur when he set his mind to it, and he did so now.
