As Evvy rode over to the beggar with his neck scarves, Rosethorn murmured, “Without the pack he carries …”
Briar replied, “Could the long hair be a wig? It’s a good one.”
“The rags on his feet and hands could be as much to cover scars from his chains as to keep him warm,” Rosethorn added. “But the blind eye?”
“Oh, that’s easy,” Briar told her. “This beggar we knew, back when I was with the Thief Lord, he would take the white lining of eggshells. He’d cut pieces of it to the right size, then punch a hole in them with a pin to see out of. It made me go all over goose bumps to watch him put them in his eyes, but he made money. It’s the beggars that have something wrong with them that get the coin.”
“Let’s invite this one to supper,” Rosethorn suggested.
“Let’s. I’d like to know what he’s doing out here.”
Briar kept an eye on the beggar all that day as they progressed along the road. There were no inspections. It seemed that those who were hunting for the emperor’s missing captive did not think he would be heading west.
Yet again they camped outside a caravansary. The beggar was the only other person there to use the well and fire pits set up in the shelter of the wall. Briar started supper and Evvy saw to the animals while Rosethorn went in search of him. By the time Briar had a thick, hearty soup bubbling over the fire, Rosethorn returned triumphant, the beggar in her wake.
Briar looked at them. “What, you aren’t towing him by the ear?”
Evvy frowned. “Howcome you always do that to us and not to him?”
Parahan gave Briar and Evvy a sheepish look and a wave. His big satchel had lost its cover of rags and revealed itself as a couple of packs. These he put by the fire, as well as his staff, before he went to the well with an empty bucket. Once he filled it, he began to wash. The wig came off; the eye coverings came out. Rosethorn sent Evvy over with a cloth and a jar of soap. By the time Parahan joined them, all that remained of the beggar was his robes. He sat downwind of them to correct for the scent of his clothing.
“I don’t understand,” Evvy complained, once they had eaten enough hot food to be pleasant to one another. “Why are you going the same way we are?”
“It’s simple enough,” Parahan told them. “A man has to eat. I haven’t a copper to my name, and if I try to go home, I doubt that I’ll get there. I imagine my uncle has his spies out looking for me by now, or he will soon. Weishu will pay him to get me back this time, to show the Yanjingyi nobles that no one can thwart the emperor and get away with it.”
Evvy shuddered. “If it looks like the emperor will get you, kill yourself first.”
Parahan nodded. “I have seen what he’s done to others. Trust me, if I know I cannot escape, I will not let myself fall into Weishu’s hands a second time.”
“And the eating part?” Briar prodded.
Parahan shrugged. “Gyongxe will be hiring fighters soon. The temples have plenty of money and treasure from pilgrims. I’ve seen the list of the jewelry my family has sent to the temples so the priests in Gyongxe will pray for my ancestors. They can afford me. I may be rusty, but I used to be considered a good warrior. It would have been even nicer if I could lead troops, but I’ll take what I can get. They won’t know I used to be a general.” He grinned at Rosethorn. “Maybe you’ll put in a good word for me if I don’t make it to the temples dedicated to my own gods?” Less cheerfully he added, “I imagine I’ll be able to give you a demonstration of my skills at the border.”
“What do you mean?” Evvy had been about to serve herself another bowl of soup. She sat back down instead. “What about the border?”
“He’s planning a war with Gyongxe,” Parahan replied. “You don’t think he’s left the border with the remaining eastern pass wide open, do you?” He looked at Rosethorn. “What I don’t understand is why you people are here. Why didn’t you just send some magical message to Gyongxe and go home as you planned?”
“Just because we have magic doesn’t mean we can fly,” Evvy told him scornfully. “And even if we could talk through plants or stones, there’s no one in Gyongxe who could hear us!”
Rosethorn raised a finger in admonishment. “That we know of.”
Evvy rolled her eyes. “Yes, teacher. I have to be precise, teacher. That we
“Do I want to know what
“No,” Briar assured him. “Not with it being night and all.”
The big man looked at Rosethorn. “You shouldn’t have brought them.”
She rubbed her temple with her fingers. “You have my permission to send them back.”
Parahan looked at Briar and Evvy, taking a breath to speak. He hesitated when he saw the blazing light in their eyes and the hard set of their mouths. “You saw only one of Weishu’s armies.”
“The God-King is our friend,” Evvy said. “Dokyi is our friend. Rosethorn is going, which means we are going.”
Parahan sighed. “Then we should sleep. It’s always better to go to war if you’ve had proper sleep.”
They offered to rearrange things in the morning so that Parahan could ride, but he was far too tall for the ponies, and he protested that his dignity forbade his entering Gyongxe on mule-back. With his packs redistributed to the mules, his stride was long enough that they were able to keep pace with one another without losing too much time. They left before dawn so none of those who had seen any of them the day before would suspect that the tall man walking alongside Rosethorn was the same bent beggar they had passed during their own journeys.
The four also improved their pace simply because there were ever fewer travelers. By the time the sun dropped behind the looming mountains and the evening cold set in, they were alone.
There was no caravansary when they decided to make camp, only swaths of ground left bare by those who had stopped in the same places before them. Considerate travelers had left piled wood and stacks of dried dung for campfires. Rosethorn chose a spot with its own stream, well situated against a stony cliff that protected them from the wind. Even with summer on the way, the Drimbakang Lho got cold at night.
Parahan disposed of his stinking rags. From one of his packs he produced the same general sort of tunic and breeches they wore. He hadn’t been able to get boots that would fit him, he said, so he donned long socks and sturdy leather shoes from the same pack. Evvy set the gate stones and released the “chickens.” Once they were out of their “crates,” the cats took on their normal appearances. Parahan, caring for the ponies and mules after his change of clothes and a cold wash, shook his head in amazement. “And these are
Evvy scowled at him. “They’ll cook you and eat you if you tell,” she said, repeating an old lie about Trader habits.
“I’m old and stringy,” the man replied. “Don’t be cranky, Evvy. I thought you liked me.”
“That was before you got us into this mess,” she grumbled.
“The gods would have found another path for us to enter this mess,” Rosethorn said as she stirred the pot. “Can’t you tell fate when it bites you?”
“No,” Evvy and Parahan said at the same time.
“She has to talk like that,” Briar said. He was mixing and baking flatbread on a heated rock. “She took religious vows and everything.”
Once they were seated with their meal, Parahan sighed. “Warm feet. I had forgotten what warm feet were like. Now, I need to ask, how are you three fixed if it comes to a fight?” The three looked at him. “Evvy, stay back with the animals. Rosethorn —”
“What part of ‘mage’ did you not understand?” Briar reached into the sling on the ground next to him. Taking out a seed ball, he flipped it to the edge of the firelight closest to the road. It burst, immediately sinking roots into the ground. The vines shot up and out, sprouting their long thorns as they grew, spreading around the ground where they struck. By the time they stopped they were three feet in height and covered a circle of three feet in
