watching her, each trying to draw strength from the other. “We have to get away from here,” he said, obviously trying to force his depressed mind to think.
A glimmer! “Maybe we can steal some horses.”
“They would catch us.” He thought of his race with Skilla, and the Hun’s promise. “They’d send a hundred men.
It would be too humiliating for Attila to let us succeed.”
“I wish there’d been a real plot,” she said fiercely. “I wish Edeco had killed Attila.”
“I wish a thousand things, and find it as useful as spit.
Our only hope would be a head start, to go when they’re distracted. If Attila left on campaign—”
“It’s too late in the year for that. There’ll be no grass for the cavalry.”
He nodded. This girl was smart and observant. “So what should we do, Ilana?”
She thought furiously, knowing word of this conversation would reach Suecca. Yet this lonely and forlorn man was her only chance, unless she wanted Skilla. Despite Jonas’s despair there was something good at his core in an age when goodness was in short supply. “We should be ready for that distraction,” she said firmly. “My father was as lucky in business as he was unlucky in war, but he said luck was preparation that waited for opportunity. We need to know who we can trust and which horses we can steal. Who can help us, even a little?”
Now
It was dangerous to take Zerco into my confidence and yet who but the dwarf could help us? I was furious at the crucifixion of Rusticius and felt guilty at my own survival. I knew Zerco had no more love for Attila than I did. Indeed, the dwarf was both intrigued about the idea of our escape and thoughtful about its practicalities. “You can’t outrun them, even with a diversion,” he said. “They’ll catch you at the Danube, if nowhere else. But you might outthink them. Go north instead of south, for example, and circle to the west.
You need horses—”
“Roman, for endurance.”
“You saw the Arabians they’ve captured for breeding.
The Germans have big horses, too. The woman is going to slow you, you know.”
“She’s Roman.”
“This camp has a hundred captive Romans. What she
Hoist your brain above your belt a moment and tell me what she is to you.”
I scowled. “Something Skilla wants.”
“Ah! Now that makes better sense. All right, then. You’ll need to take food so you can avoid farms and villages as long as possible, and you’ll need light weapons. Can you shoot a bow?”
“I was practicing until made hostage. I admit I’m no Hun.”
“It will be useful for hunting, at least. Hmmm. You’ll need warm clothing because winter is coming. Coin for when food runs out. A waterskin, hooded cloaks to hide your identity—”
“You sound like the commissary of a legion.”
“You need to be prepared.”
“You’re so helpful that I’m suspicious.”
The dwarf smiled. “At last you’re learning! Everything has a price. My help, too.”
“Which is?”
“That you take me with you.”
“You! And you talk of Ilana slowing me down?”
“I’m light, a good companion, and I’ve been where we need to go.”
This sounded like madness. “Can you even ride a horse?”
“Julia can. I ride with her.”
“Another woman!”
“You started it. Do you want my help or not?”
Ilana and I waited in an agony of impatience. The days were growing shorter, the land yellow and sleepy. Already there was a chill to the night and the first leaves petaled the Tisza.
When the weather turned, the barbarian tracks became soup, and travel became difficult. Yet one week and then another slipped by, and no opportunity to leave presented itself.
Hereka and Suecca kept sharp watch on us.
Twice we managed to meet for quick reassurance. The first time was at the river, dipping water and murmuring quickly before breaking apart, each of us trusting a person we scarcely knew. The second time was in a ravine through which a seasonal creek fed the river, its bottom dense with brush. Some Huns coupled there, I knew, away from the eyes of their parents or spouses. Now I drew her near to whisper.
These meetings had made her more precious, not less. I found myself remembering moments I didn’t realize I’d recorded: the way the light had fallen on her cheek by the river, the wetness of her eyes when she stared up at me on the wood cart, or the swell of breast and hip when she filled her jars at the river. Her neck was a Euclidian curve, her clavicle a fold of snow, her fingers quick and nervous with the grace and beat of a butterfly wing. Now I looked at her ear that gleamed like shell amid the fall of her dark hair, the parted lips as she gasped for breath, the rise and fall of her bosom, and wanted her without entirely knowing why. The idea of rescue and escape magnified her charms. To her, I was a comrade in a dangerous enterprise. To me, she was . . .
“Has the dwarf assembled our things?” she asked anxiously.
“Almost.”
“What payment does he want?”
“To go with us.”
“Do you trust him?”
“He could have betrayed us already.”
She nodded, her eyes glistening like dark pearls. “I think I have good news.”
“What?”
“There’s a Greek doctor named Eudoxius who Attila sent as an envoy. He’s returning and is only a day’s ride away, according to gossip. Some think the Greek is bringing important news, and it has been a while since the community feasted. Men have been sent to hunt, and Suecca has started us cooking. I think there’s going to be a celebration.”
“A Greek doctor?”
“Another traitor, fled to the Huns. It’s the end of the summer, and there’s an abundance of
I kissed her.
It surprised her more than I thought it would, and she pulled away, not certain whether she welcomed my advance, her emotions playing across her face like the rippling of a curtain.
I tried to kiss her again.
“No.” She held me away. “Not until things are settled.”
“I’m falling in love with you, Ilana.”
This complication frightened her. “You don’t know me.”
She shook her head, keeping her purpose in mind. “Not until we’ve escaped—together.”
*
*
*
The news that Eudoxius brought back was secret, but his return excuse enough for a
