said.
“Agreed,” Tuva said. “Nothing to do now but wait for them. Back to your places, you six. The rest of you, this isn’t a pleasure ride. We move forward.”
The group broke up. Ashok saw Kaibeth watching him. She smirked when she rode by.
“Hope you didn’t bruise your backside falling off that horse,” she said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen an emissary of Tempus felled by a cheap crossbow bolt.”
Ashok stared back at her and said nothing. He saw that she wore the symbol of Beshaba, goddess of misfortune, as a tattoo on her neck. The others in her group laughed as they returned to the front of the line. Ashok paid no attention. He should have known how it would be with the sellswords. To them, he was still Ikemmu’s champion, higher in rank and favor.
Beshaba had been Vedoran’s adopted goddess. He’d worshiped misfortune-or at least had given the appearance of worshiping it-until the day Ashok killed him.
Ashok had not witnessed Vedoran’s funeral rites. He’d been too weak from his tenday in the dark to see how the city bade farewell to the warrior. Had Uwan spoken on Vedoran’s behalf, coaxed his soul on to Beshaba’s realm? Something inside Ashok told him the leader would have prayed for Vedoran-whereas Ashok had done his best not to think of the warrior since the day he died.
Beneath him, the nightmare whickered restlessly and broke Ashok from his thoughts. He looked around at the landscape and felt again that sense of movement, of things watching him from vast distances. It was a strange sensation, this rolling motion. The wind stirred the grass, the river threaded rocks and weeds, and now the caravan joined the constant motion.
Part of the threat he felt was the ambushers. Ashok saw it in Tuva and Vlahna as well, in the way they rode their horses out east and west of the caravan’s path to scout. Every hour or so Cree or Skagi would venture out behind them, and more than once Ashok saw Kaibeth ride ahead to check the path.
As far as Ashok could tell, it was early morning when they’d come through the portal, but, as the day went on, the hills gave way to flat, open country. With fewer places for attackers to hide, the caravan crew relaxed a bit and eventually, Vlahna called a halt. The drovers hopped down from the wagons and waddled, stiff-backed, to check the horses. The other passengers immediately did the same. Ashok could see they were weary and grateful to be out of the jostling, bumping wagons.
“Before you get too comfortable,” Vlahna called out to them, “let me remind all of you that it’s not near dark yet, and that means we’ve many more miles to cover. This is a catch-your-breath stop-nothing more. We move out when I give the word and not five breaths after that.”
Low-voiced grumbling threaded among the crew, but it was mostly good-natured. Ashok got down from the nightmare’s back and led him to the river. He watched his and the stallion’s reflection as he bent to drink. Again he had to marvel at the variety here, the water plants that grew out from the bank, the green algae, and even a few bright yellow flowers that had survived the first of the killing frosts. Life was going dormant all around him, but there were still small signs of how different that life was from what grew underground.
He pulled one of the flowers out of the ground by its roots. As he examined it, he heard soft laughter coming from nearby.
Some of the passengers and guards had wandered down by the river. Ashok was aware of them, but he hadn’t noticed one of the humans watching him. She wore leather armor and a helm underneath which he could see strands of dark curly hair.
The physical appearance of the other races always struck Ashok, especially that of the humans. They were so much like the shadar-kai in stature and build, but they had markedly varied skin colors that changed according to their emotions or environment. When she removed her helm, Ashok saw this one’s face was dark and creased from where the helm had rubbed her skin. Of course, her eyes affected him most of all.
Human eyes with their three-sometimes more-colors fascinated Ashok. Black at the center blended to blue, brown or maybe amber, then the whites with their spidery red tendrils branching off in delicate rivers.
He didn’t realize he’d been staring at the human woman in silence until she chuckled again.
“Why do you laugh?” he asked her, feeling a stab of irritation. He’d been laughed at enough today.
“I forgot what you looked like,” she said. She surprised him by speaking the shadar-kai tongue-Common was the accepted language among the caravan crew-but Ashok thought she must not know what she was saying.
“I don’t understand,” he said.
She waved a hand. “Forgive me, that didn’t make any sense, did it? I’m trying to say that you’ve never been to Faerun before.”
“How do you know that?”
“I see the signs.” She plucked the flower out of his hand and tossed it in the river. They watched it float away. “You squint, you touch things as if they’re breakable, and you walk around in a daze. I used to go on caravan runs with new shadar-kai all the time, but it’s been so long since we’ve had one come through with us that it took me by surprise.” She stepped forward and extended her hand. “I’m sorry-I don’t mean to laugh. My name is Mareyn. I work for the Martuck family.”
She spoke quickly, with a crisp accent Ashok had never heard in Ikemmu. He clasped her hand. “I’m Ashok. The Martucks are traders?”
“Some of them are.” She glanced around. “The husband and wife are more than competent, but the boy would rather be anywhere else. I think his parents were hoping the caravan trip would put the fever in his blood, if you know what I mean.”
When Ashok merely looked at her, she smiled uncertainly. “You’re newer than new, aren’t you?”
“Back to your posts-we’re moving out!”
Vlahna’s call came from upriver. Ashok stood and followed Mareyn and the others back up a short rise to the wagons.
“We’ll talk again,” Mareyn said when he turned to head for the back of the caravan.
Ashok started to ask her what they were going to manage to talk about when he could barely understand her, but she was already gone. She took up a position with a crossbow in one of the wagons. Ashok saw the boy, the youngest Martuck, was there too. The two of them spoke for a breath, and though Ashok couldn’t hear what they said, he had a good idea what they were talking about when the boy turned to stare at him.
Ashok stared back until the boy turned a little pale and looked away. Skittish, Ashok thought. He mounted the nightmare and rode back to where Skagi and Cree waited. They were arguing, as usual.
“It won’t happen tonight,” Cree said. “No human force can get themselves organized that fast.”
Skagi nudged Ashok. “The one-eyed pup thinks we won’t see an ambush tonight. Needs his sleep, I guess. What say you, Ashok? Will we see them tonight?”
The caravan was moving, joining the flow of life again. Ashok did his best to go along with it, but he was still tense. “I hope we don’t see anything tonight,” he said. “We’re not ready.”
“Speak for yourself,” Skagi said sullenly.
Ashok sighed. “Fine, then. I’m not ready.” Mareyn had been right. He was too new. “There’s so much-I don’t know where to look, where to put my hands.”
The rain came two hours before nightfall. It started as intermittent drops, cold surprises splashing against their faces and necks. Ashok looked up at the sky. The dark blue clouds had turned black, and a crack of thunder sounded above their heads. A breath later, a torrent of icy needles came pouring from those clouds. The caravan was soon saturated.
Ashok pulled up the hood of his cloak to keep the rain out of his eyes, and the caravan crew hunkered down as best it could while still moving forward. The soft grass they traveled on would quickly turn to impassable mud. They would have to make camp soon or waste time and energy pushing forward through the muck.
He wiped the rainwater from his face. In the back of the last wagon, Ilvani sat with her head bent, her chin almost touching her knees. She hadn’t put her hood up, and the rain plastered her hair to her face.
“Ilvani!” He rode up to the wagon. The nightmare blew a hot, agitated breath, but otherwise it didn’t react to her presence. “Are you all right?”
She raised her head and, as if she’d only just noticed the rain, tipped her face to the sky and let the sleet hit her cheeks. Ashok let her alone for a breath before he repeated his question.
“It’s time to sleep now, isn’t it?” Ilvani said. Weary resignation descended on her body, bending her forward
