Jebaneeza lit up again. “Lovely, just lovely. I can’t wait to see it. I’ve meant to for many years. I’ve visited nearly every shrine in this area, you know. But the shrine of Cuthlan-the one in the Green Sea, I’m not sure if you knew that, but it’s the shrine of Cuthlan. That’s his name. Cuthlan the Lame. Ah, yes,” she addressed Braylar again, “I see what you mean about nicknames. Or what was it you called it? Bynames? Bynames. Yes, they do seem mean-spirited, don’t they? Or at least not very complimentary. I’d never really considered it before. But even religious figures don’t seem to be spa-”
Braylar interrupted. “Have you been in the Green Sea before, Wrong Hand?”
She corrected him, “Jebaneeza Wrong Hand. Or just Jebaneeza, if it please you. `Wrong Hand’ seems, well, as I said, mean-spirited. Especially alone, like that, `Wrong Hand.’ But-”
“You’ve never traveled on it, yes?”
I imagine she was regretting approaching our wagon just then. “Yes. I mean no. No, I haven’t traveled on it. But my companion, as I believe I mentioned earlier, my companion has. And my family hails-”
“Your companion is a fool to lead you here. Unless you have a battalion hidden in that wagon.”
“Battalion? Soldiers, do you mean? No, of course not. Don’t be ridiculous.”
“And no weapons? Are none among you armed, or able to defend yourselves?”
“No. Why should we be? We’re on a pilgrimage, as I told you.”
Braylar shook his head. “The Green Sea is a dangerous place to travel. Or did your companion forget to tell you that?”
“No,” she said, then amended, “that is, he mentioned that it wasn’t entirely safe, of course. But he said we could travel unmolested, being on a pilgrimage. And I believe him. Our gods will protect us.”
Braylar laughed his ugly laugh and said, “Then you’re a bigger fool than he is, Wrong Hand.”
And then he pulled his crossbow from beneath the seat and pointed it at her.
She gasped and took a step back. She looked back and forth between the crossbow and Braylar, very quickly, before blurting, “What? How dare you?”
Braylar gestured at the wagon with the crossbow before letting it drift back to her chest. “Now tell your companions to unload the wagon in the front.”
“But we’re pilgrims! We have nothing of value!”
“Listen to me carefully, pilgrim. I’m stealing nothing. You will unload your wagon and we will unload ours. You’ll ride off in our wagon, we’ll ride off in yours. You’ll keep your goods, we’ll keep ours. Simple, yes? Now do it.”
She put her hands on her substantial hips and said, “Switch wagons? What madness is this? I’ll do no such thing.”
Braylar sighed. “You might have noticed, I have a crossbow pointed at your chest. Perhaps you’ve never seen one work before. Let me explain: If I press this trigger, it will send a bolt right through your lungs, possibly even out the other side. You’ll fall in the grass, gasping. A great deal of blood will pour out of the hole. And you’ll stop breathing. This, too, is very simple. Now, your fellow pilgrims might cooperate more readily if I shoot you dead, given over to terror or panic, but then again, they might not. Panic does queer things to people, and righteous wrath, worse still. Rather than cooperate, they’d probably object. And if they did, I’d probably have to shoot, bludgeon, or stab them too. Now, I have no interest in killing anyone today. But if you press the issue, I have no qualms about it either.”
She sputtered, “You would… you wouldn’t dare!”
I was appalled this was happening, and didn’t understand why it was happening, but I had no idea how to stop it from happening either. It occurred to me, albeit briefly, that I could try to wrest the crossbow away from Braylar, but I knew that would only end with me killed in one of several ways. And so I did the only thing I could: I attempted to make this happen as bloodlessly as possible.
I told Jebaneeza, “Unfortunately, he would. He’s a godless pagan, who shows no respect for anything that walks or crawls. And I doubt his short retainer on the pony is likely to take your side of things. I suggest you do as he says.”
She looked at me, aghast, and said, “You seemed so polite, so mannerly. How can you be a part of this? How can you allow this, this…” she searched for the right word, “this brigand to do this?”
I didn’t have a ready-made response. “He’s the one with the crossbow, m’lady. Now please, do as he says. If you do, I guarantee no one will be hurt.”
Of course, I had no power to guarantee anything, but she wasn’t mollified anyway. “You’re no better then! Not a whit! In fact-”
But Braylar didn’t let her finish. “Enough. Do as I say, and you’ll live to see your silly shrine. Contest me, and you won’t live at all. And your people will likely follow. And maybe out of spite, I’ll go back and burn that shrine to the ground and piss on it besides. So make up your mind. Now.”
There was a moment when I was sure she’d attempt to stand her ground, and Braylar would have little choice but to shoot her down or leave off the peculiar idea of swapping wagons, but I suspected that no Syldoon would back down in such a situation, and especially not this one. Jebaneeza looked back and forth between Lloi and Braylar, and finally pragmatism and self-preservation won out. She shook her head, turned on her heel and walked back to her wagon.
This all seemed like a sudden fantastic dream. I had a hundred questions, but when Jebaneeza got out of earshot, I looked at Braylar and asked the most pressing one, “Would you have shot her?”
He didn’t look at me, but kept the crossbow pointed at her as she began speaking to her companions in very animated fashion. “I would take no joy in it.” That was the depth and breadth.
I turned to Lloi. “And you?”
She shrugged her shoulders. “Told you already. I do what needs doing. That’s what I do.”
Dazed before, I became angry then, saying to Braylar, “What purpose does any of this serve?”
“Perhaps you forget. We were involved in an incident several days back. Some Hornmen were killed. I imagine this knowledge has been posted at border forts across the land by now. They’ll be looking for this wagon. Torn, blue canvas, spattered with blood. A spear hole in the seat. A huge bloodstain in the inside. Is it coming back to you now?” I didn’t respond. “Good. So we must be rid of this rig, yes? Now is better than later.”
“But this is no better than what the Hornman did to you. It’s extortion, or robbery, or-”
“It is neither. They’ll still have a wagon. And in fact, unless I grossly misjudge, ours is the newer of the two, and worth quite a bit more. Though, admittedly, it could use a little work.”
“But the authorities are looking for this one. If they find them in-”
“Start unloading our supplies, Arki. Now. Lloi will assist you.” She nodded and dismounted.
Before considering the weight of the words I said, “I want no part of this.”
He laughed but his eyes didn’t stray from the pilgrims. “You should have mentioned that during our first interview. Now, there are several witnesses that will happily identify you as a fellow brigand. At the very least you would lose a hand if caught. And what’s more, if we don’t do this thing, and the authorities, as you call them, do find us, you’ll be hung. Remember why we’re trying to offload this.”
I objected without thinking, “But the soldiers didn’t see me. They-”
“All but one. You are very forgetful. But even if he keeps his swollen lips closed, do you really believe that will save your neck? If so, you’re a bigger fool than the pilgrims.”
I stood up, and filled with some newfound courage, said, “I can go with them. The pilgrims. Right now. I can leave.”
Lloi looked at me, her expression mostly curious.
Braylar said, “And you’d find a bolt in your back before you got halfway there. I would rather not shoot you. Truly. But that’s exactly what will happen, just the same. You’re the third. What more is a fourth?”
“Third?” I asked stupidly, and then compounded with, “Fourth?”
“The first archivist was killed by an arrow no doubt aimed for me. The second I killed myself. For disobedience that bore a striking resemblance to yours just now. If I must hire a fourth, I must hire a fourth. I prefer not to-it’s a time-consuming process, and tedious in the extreme-but that’s entirely up to you.”
This chilled me, and I sat back down, lightheaded. But I didn’t have long to consider the implications before he ordered me to go in the wagon and begin unloading the supplies out the back. Lloi had already walked around to the rear and pulled the gate down.
Numb and uncertain, I did as commanded.
