‘What? No. No. Don’t tell me.’
Jaer’s voice trembled slightly, but she was matter-of-fact. ‘It’s a chained captive, Medlo. Will you buy her for me?’
‘With what? A song? I emptied my purse buying passage on that-’
Jaer was tugging at her waist. ‘I didn’t see fit to tell you, but I have gold enough. Here. Buy the woman.’
‘Buy her yourself,’ he hissed. ‘I need not be party to this foolishness. Why should we add another female to our party to raise avarice among the acolytes? By the Powers, birdling, have some sense!’
‘I will buy her myself. But to do so, I will need to speak, which will attract attention.’
‘Oh, Lords,’ stormed Medlo in hushed fury. ‘I no sooner get us out of one trap than you get us in another. Give it to me.’ He went off toward the auctioneer leaving Jaer to twist her feet in the dust and pray that no guards come upon her with their sneaking hands, for she would surely kill the next one. In a few moments Medlo returned, leading a figure hastily shrouded and clutching assorted bundles to itself. ‘Walk on south as we were going,’ instructed Medlo, his voice strained. ‘Don’t stop to say anything. Walk, tum-te-tum-tum. Dead march. I think they’re coming after us….’
Indeed, several of the Temple people were following them, but as Medlo turned away to the south, the bare faces stared after them only for a short time before turning away. They trudged away over the first long hill before Medlo handed Jaer her purse, unlocked the chains on the woman’s arms and legs to let them drop into the dust, all the while venting fury upon Jaer. ‘Stupid, idiotic, showing of gold in a place like that with no story thought up to explain it and half the town looking over my shoulder with greedy eyes.’
The woman stood, gazing at them from her eye holes, saying nothing.
‘Well,’ Medlo said. ‘You wanted her. You’ve got her.’
‘I wanted to free her,’ Jaer said uncertainly. ‘The quest book said …’
‘I read it, remember? Hokum!’
‘What you think doesn’t matter….’ Jaer’s girlish voice broke.
The woman turned toward her. ‘You be womankind?’
Medlo snorted. ‘Oh, she be anything your heart desires, slave girl.’
‘I have a name, scornful. I am called Jasmine.’
Medlo snorted once more, and the three stood glaring at one another, three featureless robes on a dusty road, unread and unreadable. Finally, Jaer sighed deeply. ‘Jasmine … I brought you because I have taken oath to follow a certain quest, and my guide book says that three captives must be freed. This man, Medlo, thinks I am silly, or stupid, or mad. Maybe I am. Now that you’re here, I don’t know what to do about you. You can come with us, if you choose… unless there is somewhere you would rather go.’
‘She was going into slavery, birdling! She was going to be some dirty old man’s bathmaid, or some nasty woman’s tiring girl. Or she would have been sold to a Hynath Town brothel. Do you know what a brothel is?’
Jaer snarled at him: ‘I know well enough, Medlo. The old men did not neglect my education. They knew well enough what dangers I would run, and they cared enough for me to warn me against them. I know what they were selling her for, but she may still have somewhere else to go.’
Jasmine interrupted. ‘I have somewhere else to go, but my way to it is closed for now. If I go back to Hynath Port, a woman alone, they will take me and sell me again. No. For a time I will go with you. I have no choice.’
Even Medlo could think of nothing to say after that.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
THE CITY OF BYSSA
Year 1168-Winter
Jaer insisted, of course, that they go east. Medlo pointed to the cliffs and tumbled stone in that direction, the impassable wilderness of pinnacles and piled rock left over from some ancient lava flow. ‘Sud-Akwith might have come here to find his fabled sword,’ he snarled at them. ‘But lesser men have trouble walking there.’
‘Well, then,’ said Jaer reasonably, ‘find us a better way.’
‘There is no better way,’ Medlo said. ‘In order to go east, we must first go south to the mouth of the Del, and then up the river as far as Byssa. Byssa is one of the worst places to go in a time when bad places abound. These last years there is more harrying than ever before. The black wagons are everywhere. As the weasel waits at the burrow, they wait. They scare me.’
‘You didn’t act scared when we met,’ Jaer said.
‘I wasn’t travelling toward Byssa when we met. I did not have one female with me, much less two. I had a simple trip planned, north up the River Sals through Sorgen. Not to Byssa. Never to Byssa. Not with a creature like you.’
He stalked away, leaving Jasmine to whisper at Jaer, ‘What does he mean, a creature like you?’
Jaer tried to explain, only to encounter questions which she could not answer, which led to more questions. At last Medlo stopped them.
‘If you are going to talk, talk, talk,’ he said, ‘then let us have something hot at least to wet our gullets.’ He went off to find driftwood, leaving the two behind a sheltering dune half covered by razor-edged grass. Jaer took her orbansa off, threw it upon the sand and sat upon it. When Medlo returned with an armload of wood, he stopped to stare at her. He saw a plain, rather broad face, with wide brown eyes and a large mouth. The skin was a medium tan, the nose unremarkable. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘you’re not particularly appealing, but you are unmistakably female. Not
