ourselves back to town and try again.' At that time I hoped no more than to get ourselves out of the situation.
'But …' she objected in confusion.
I had a sudden inspiration. 'Shush. We were warned these are not people to take lightly. The bird must have gone astray, or a hawk taken it. There is nothing more to be done here today.'
'A bird?' the girl piped suddenly.
'Only a pigeon. Good day to you.' I put my arm about Starling and turned her firmly. 'We did not mean to bother you.'
'Whose pigeon?'
I let my eyes meet hers for a moment. 'A friend of Nik's. Do not let it concern you. Come, Starling.'
'Wait!' the girl said suddenly. 'My brother is inside. Perhaps he knows this Nik.'
'I would not wish to bother him,' I assured her.
'No bother.' The bird on her hand stretched out his wings as she gestured to the door with it. 'Come inside out of the cold for a bit.'
'It is a cold day,' I conceded. I turned to confront the whittler just as he was emerging from the line of birches. 'Perhaps we should all go inside.'
'Perhaps.' The girl grinned at my shadow's discomfiture.
Within the door was a bare entry hall. The fine inlaid wood of the floor was scuffed and had gone unoiled for some time. Lighter spaces on the walls showed where paintings and tapestries had once hung. A bare staircase led to the upper floor. There was no light save what came in the thick windows. Inside, there was no wind, but it was not much warmer. 'Wait here,' the girl told us, and entered a chamber to our right, closing the door firmly behind her. Starling stood a bit closer to me than I wished. The whittler watched us expressionlessly.
Starling took a breath. 'Hush,' I told her before she could speak. Instead, she took my arm. I made the excuse of stooping to adjust my boot. As I straightened, I turned and put her on my left side. She immediately took hold of that arm. It seemed a very long time before the door opened. A tall man, brown-haired and blue-eyed, came out. He was dressed like the girl in leathers. A very long knife hung at his belt. The girl came on his heels, looking petulant. He had rebuked her, then. He scowled at us and demanded, 'What's this about?'
'My mistake, sir,' I said immediately. 'We were seeking one named Nik, and obviously we have come to the wrong house. Your pardon, sir.'
He spoke reluctantly. 'I've a friend with a cousin named Nik. I could give word of you to him, perhaps.'
I squeezed Starling's hand for silence. 'No, no, we wouldn't wish to trouble you. Unless you'd like to tell us where we could find Nik himself.'
'I could take a message,' he offered again. But it was not really an offer.
I scratched at my beard and considered. 'I've a friend whose cousin wished to send something across the river. He had heard that Nik might know someone who could take it for him. He promised my friend's cousin that he would send a bird, to let Nik know we were coming. For a fee, of course. That was all, a paltry matter.'
He gave a slow nod. 'I've heard of folks hereabouts who do such things. It's dangerous work, yes, treasonous work, too. They'd pay with their heads if the King's Guard caught them.'
'That they would,' I agreed readily. 'But I doubt that my friend's cousin would do business with the kind of folk who'd get caught. That was why he was wishing to speak to Nik.'
'And who was it sent you here to seek this Nik?'
'I forget,' I said coolly. 'I'm afraid I'm rather good at forgetting names.'
'Are you?' the man asked consideringly. He glanced at his sister and gave a small nod. 'May I offer you some brandy?'
'That would be most welcome,' I told him.
I managed to pry my arm free of Starling as we entered the chamber. As the door shut behind us, Starling sighed in the welcome warmth. This room was as opulent as the other was bare. Rugs coated the floor, tapestries lined the walls. There was a heavy oak table with a branch of white candles for illumination. A fire blazed in the huge hearth before a half circle of comfortable chairs. It was to this area our host led us. He snagged a glass decanter of brandy as he passed the table. 'Find some cups,' he peremptorily ordered the girl. She seemed to take no offense at it. I guessed his age at about twenty-five. Older brothers are not the kindest of heroes. She handed the whittler her pigeon, and gestured both of them out before she went to find cups.
'Now. You were saying,' he offered when we were settled before the fire.
'Actually, you were saying,' I suggested.
He was silent as his sister came back with cups. He passed them to us as he filled them and the four of us raised cups together.
'To King Regal,' he suggested.
'To my king,' I offered affably, and drank. It was good brandy, one Burrich would have appreciated.
'King Regal would see folk like our friend Nik swinging,' the man suggested.
'Or more likely in his circle,' I suggested. I gave a small sigh. 'It's a dilemma. On the one hand, King Regal threatens his life. On the other hand, without King Regal's embargo on the Mountain, what livelihood would Nik pursue? I heard all that his family's holdings grow these days is rocks.'
The man nodded in commiseration. 'Poor Nik. A man must do something to survive.'
'That he must,' I agreed. 'And sometimes to survive, a man must cross a river, even if his king forbids it.'
'Must he?' the man asked. 'Now, that's a bit different from sending something across the river.'
'Not that different,' I told him. 'If Nik is good at his trade, the one should no more tax him than the other. And I'd heard Nik was good.'
'The best,' the girl said with quiet pride.
Her brother shot her a warning glance. 'What would this man be offering to cross?' he asked quietly.
'He'd offer it to Nik himself,' I said as softly.
For a few breaths the man looked into the fire. Then he stood and extended a hand. 'Nik Holdfast. My sister Pelf.'
'Tom,' I said.
'Starling,' the minstrel added.
Nik held his cup aloft again. 'To a bargain in the making,' he suggested, and again we drank. He sat and asked immediately, 'Shall we speak plainly?'
I nodded. 'The plainest possible. We had heard that you were taking a group of pilgrims over the river and across the border into the Mountain Kingdom. We seek the same service.'
'At the same price,' Starling chimed in smoothly.
'Nik, I don't like this,' Pelf broke in suddenly. 'Someone's tongue has been wagging too freely. I knew we should never have agreed to the first lot. How do we know …'/P>
'Hush. I'm the one taking the risks, so I'll be the one to say what I will or will not do. You've naught to do but wait here and mind things while I'm gone. And see that your own tongue doesn't wag.' He turned back to me. 'It will be a gold each, up front. And another on the other side of the river. A third at the Mountain border.'
'Ah!' The price was shocking. 'We can't …' Starling dug her nails suddenly into my wrist. I shut my mouth.
'You will never convince me the pilgrims paid that much,' Starling said quietly.
'They have their own horses and wagons. Food supplies, too.' He cocked his head at us. 'But you look to be folk traveling with what's on your backs and no more.'
'And a lot easier to conceal than a wagon and team. We'll give you one gold now, and one at the Mountain border. For both of us,' Starling offered.
He leaned back in his chair and pondered a moment. Then he poured more brandy all round. 'Not enough,' he said regretfully. 'But I suspect it's all you have.'
It was more than I had. I hoped, perhaps, it was what Starling had. 'Take us over the river for that much,' I offered. 'From there, we're on our own.'
Starling kicked me under the table. She seemed to be speaking only to me as she said, 'He's taking the others to the Mountain border and across it. We may as well enjoy the company that far.' She turned back to Nik. 'It will have to take us all the way to the Mountains.'
Nik sipped at his brandy. He sighed heavily. 'I'll see your coin, begging your pardon, before we say it's a
